#stuck in the middle my fucking BELOVED

[useless-moss]

Shipping everything is both a blessing and a curse cause on one hand there's plenty of fanfics and art about vigcup or dagcup or the ot6 but then when my brain decides to scream RYKER X DAGUR or VIGGO X DAGUR at 11:00pm on a Sunday there's only one good fic for me to read and I'm left wanting to claw my hair out

[sollucets]

its a relevant announcement to make here (maybe) that i AM thinking about ocean eyes still, and again a lot recently

ever since my laptop keyboard full broke (among many other reasons, detailing which would be Too Personal For Here) my desire for writing has been. ehhh. and it still kind of is Eh but. but something i have learned about this time of year and my brain in myself is that so many lovely and strange and beautiful things get flattened down to eh if i let them. so. agh i am trying again

[sceletaflores]

working it out (on the remix)

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.

—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.

word count: 5.5k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.

tftw series masterlist!

Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room. 

Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.

He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on. 

You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.

You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.

You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.

He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.

Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.

Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.

“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”

“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.

Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.

You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.

Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.

‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.

“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”

“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.

Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”

Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”

Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”

Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”

Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”

“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.

Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”

Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.

The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.

It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.

You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.

You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.

“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.

You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks. 

“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile. 

“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.

You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.

You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.” 

Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”

“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”

He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.

“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”

His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.

You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.

He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.

Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.

Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.

You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.

Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.

Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."

You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.

“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.

“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him. 

Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.

He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.

Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head. 

A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.

We doing this or what?

Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”

He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."

You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."

Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.

“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.

Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.

You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.

Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.

Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock. 

Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”

You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.

Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.

Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question. 

Do you want this?

You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.

Fuck yes.

Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.

Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.

“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.

“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."

Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.

“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.

You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.

Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.

Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.

Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.

The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged. 

Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”  

You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.

Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.

A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.

“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.

The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.

It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.

They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.

“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–” 

You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.

“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.

“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy

“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.

“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”

You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers. 

You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.

Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.

“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust. 

Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’. 

They come together, and you can feel it.

You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.

Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.

“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.

Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs. 

There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”

Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.

Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."

You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.

"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious. 

You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.

Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”

Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.” 

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.

The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

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[wordsinhaled]

thinking about how much crowley and aziraphale have been getting slammed for their poor communication and on the one hand... absolutely, i agree 100%. they have so much work to do in that department, they are always missing each other when it comes to seeing what they each want from the other and expressing it clearly. but on the other hand... like... encompassing six thousand years into a conversation? six thousand years of knowing each other. six thousand years of gravitating toward one another

like... the bit that really gets me, in crowley's confession, is - "...and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. i mean, the last few years, not really" - this implication that like... at least on crowley's part... since they saved the world together he's allowed himself to be more open in how he feels about aziraphale. that in his mind he's already long since chosen Their Side, they've chosen their side in their behavior towards each other, and they've talked about... our car, our shop, but even before that...

we see in the minisodes, the way they already act. they're a pair that shows rather than tells all the time and it's so abundantly clear that everyone around them can see it, is constantly asking about it, assuming it, reading it on them like they're an open book - with everyone but each other.

but like how do you put into clumsy human words how much love you feel for someone who stood next to you while you created the stars? who helped you create them? how do you say openly how you feel to the one person who understands you and your nature better than anyone else, who indulges your every whim because they want to see you happy while everyone else says you were built wrong, you're too indulgent, you're too soft but you're perfect for him, specifically, because you stood at the beginning of the universe together?

like how are they supposed to talk about that? especially when it's so forbidden to talk about that?

there are so few words that truly feel like they properly encompass what love truly and genuinely means? what loving someone TRULY means? how it's giving up your onliness and entrusting yourself into the hands of another, now you're not just you, now you're you but the world is brighter and sharper and more beautiful because of another? how we're all stuck on a spinning rock in the middle of space in the middle of the universe in the middle of the galaxy in the middle of eternity just little grains of sand and then there's another little grain of sand in the scheme of things, but it's the most important one ever created because of how happy it makes you?

but multiply that by six thousand years

so like of course you fucking cry and you stare at each other with tears in your eyes like you're absolutely ESSENTIAL to one another. but like how do you make it work in words when you don't know if there are even words for the prospect of existing without one another? and you have this absolutely incandescent and fragile thing between you that everyone understands to exist, you understand it to exist too, and sometimes it is scary as fuck to admit that you need someone. it is terrifying and uncomfortable and vulnerable and we're just people who live maybe 100 years on this earth? a blink of an eye compared to six thousand years of shared existence?

like...? truthfully i don't think i could talk about it easily either because oh my god that's fucking terrifying. that six thousand years of your comfortable and beloved shared existence could go up in smoke with one misplaced word. like no fucking WONDER he can't get the words out. and no fucking wonder, it's easier to couch things in terms like group and team and everything when you're on the verge of falling apart into a million pieces because the other half of your soul wants to leave you behind. it's easier to say come with me, work with me, be my second in command, than to admit he's first in your heart and mind every second of every day since you saw him bringing light at the beginning of the universe???

just... you know? they need a fucking break. they need a vacation. they need a cottage in the south fucking downs

[jyoongim]

Hello!

I would to request if its alright.

Prisoner Human Alastor x Police!Reader.

Alastor were captured by police and was sent to jail and Reader was a professional police also she is virgin because shes too focus on her job even when she was in colloge she never experienced it.

Sorry im bad at explaining but like they fucked in alastor cell in middle of the night because Reader was assign to watch Alastor since hes the biggest criminal in the town.

So llike i dont know how reader ended up in his cell ummm you can just make a reason for it since i dont know how she also inside his cell and getting fuck

So like Reader Hate love when alastor fuck out of her brain for the first time and Instead of Escaping from the jail Alastor just Find a Toy to play with.

This been on my mind pleaseeee im on my knees just for this😭😭

THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY GIFT TO YALL

WHOOP WHOOP THATS THE SOUND OF THE POLICE!!!!

It’s giving Mrs.Officer by lil Wayne hahahaha 

themes: 18+! NSFW, fem!reader, human!alastor (criminal of the LAW), so many laws and regulations broken, flirty banter? Jail cell sex, slight dub con, manipulation, subjugation, Loss of virginity, handcuffs, black mail, humiliation, gun play, mention of murders,  toxic relationship?

Five years ago

“Alastor DuPont, you are charged with the Bayou Murders! You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…” you snarled at the man, as you slapped your handcuffs on his wrists, hoisting him up from the ground and forcing him to the cop car.

A strained laughed escaped his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, white teeth showing “never would have thought you would turn on me doll hehe. How unpredictable…I like that in my women ya know?”The lanky man grinned as you slammed the door, his breath fogging up the window. His deep brown eyes were wild as he maintained a calm composure. You narrowed your eyes at him “remember that it was me who put your ass behind bars”

His eyelids dropped, his crazed smile almost splitting his face “oooh doll I’ll never forget you”

Present Day

The prison was in an uproar when the higher ups found out who they’ll be housing.

Alastor DuPont.

New Orleans Most Beloved Radio Host…was a serial killer.

And you were the unfortunate soul who was his guard.

You looked over the paperwork of your new charge, brows furrowing as you read the arrest and charges.

Disgusting scrum! You thought with a sigh, setting down the papers on your desk.

”Why is he being transferred to my floor? Ain’t that conflict of interest?” You asked the Warden, an older man in his sixties.

You were the officer who had worked the Bayou Murders case, the officer who caught Louisiana's notorious killer and arrested him. 

You were just a rookie back then, fresh out of college and putting your all into your work. You were always at the office working late and gathering evidence. Your coworkers often joked that you had no sense of fun, always refusing to go out with them for dinners or parties. You were obvious to romantic advances and often threatened to write a report for misconduct for your male officers actions.

You often heard some of the male officers describe you as ‘Stuck-up, picky, prude’ but you didn’t see an issue with that.

You took your job serious, there was never room for error in this line of work.

You were very by the book. 

You saw everything in black and white.

Control and Regulations was your game.

Which is why you were tasked guarding some of the worst criminals in the city.

That now included Alastor.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Just treat him how you do the other inmates. You’re my best officer here to handle something like him” The warden said. You were the best for this. You took a deep breath “Fine, but I want a raise” you grumbled, smiling.

—————————————————————————————

“Inmate 666 rise n shine! put your hands through the open slot” you commanded. You stood outside the steel padlock door, waiting for hands to appear to be cuffed.

Nothing.

You knocked on the door again, a warning.

You huffed, “Last chance inmate! Or I’m dragging you out!”

Silence.

You cursed under your breath and looked to your backup guard

”open the door” he looked worried but followed your orders.

The security door whirled opened and you stood in the open doorway, you hand hovered over your baton as you approached the figure laying in bed, worst case he killed himself; best case…you kick his ass out of bed. “DuPont!” You sneered, kicking the edge of his bed. The figure stirred, groaning at the bright light pouring in the small room, he stretched, joints popping and made a move to sit upon the bed.

He rubbed his eyes, reached for his glasses and finally looked at you. A smile appeared on his face “Well i must have died and went to heaven” he drawled standing up.

You took a step back out of instinct. You scoffed at him ”you wish now put your shirt on and hands behind your back.”

Alastor let out a chuckle as he reached for his shirt.

Your eyes roamed his exposed skin. Smooth, skin riddled with scars. For a lanky bastard he had quite the muscle definition.

He was handsome, the type of guy you would have happily let chat you up.

But you were the truth behind that smile.

”so what pleasure am i owed that I get to see your pretty face after so long?” He asked like he was talking about the weather. You didn’t answer him as you locked the handcuffs and nudged him towards the open door to start walking.

———————————————————————————-

“You will be provided three meals a day. One hour of outdoors activities and you’ll have recreational if you earn good behavior, but i highly doubt that. Am I clear?” You ask as he stared at you with a stupid smile. You frowned “get that smile off your face DuPont.” He only smiled harder “I can’t help it. I enjoy being in your presence my dear” 

You leaned across the table, eyes hard as you got in his face.

”listen to me you irritating prick! In here I rule. You listen to everything I say and pray I am in a good mood to deal with your shit. I can make what remains of your life hell on earth. Do I make myself clear?” You hissed.

Alastor leaned back, an amused look on his face, shrugging “Crystal”

”Good”

You walked him back to his cell after he ate and uncuffed him. Walking out you slammed the door shut and waited to hear the lock before moving to make your rounds.

”I do hope you have a good night my dear” you hear him say as you walk down the corridor, ignoring him.

—————————————————————————-

Alastor sighed as he sat on his bed. A low chuckle escaped his throat. Oh how he missed you. 

When he met you five years ago, he knew you were the one for him. There was something about you that gave him a thrill. 

He admits he didn’t count on you being a police officer; you had fooled him flawlessly. 

His cock twitched in his pants. Those pretty eyes that once held warmth were ever so chilling. 

How he couldn’t wait to break that cold demeanor of yours.

He just had to bid his time and after all he had all the time in the world with you.

————————————————————————————-

You were focused on some paperwork when two male officers popped their heads in your office.

”hey a couple of us are going for a night out you coming?” Max asked with a smile as Danny was behind him with puppy eyes.

You didn’t even look up from your work “ill pass but maybe next time guys” you hear the groan before leaving.

You shook your head lightly as you finished filling in your notes.

You looked at your watch, it was almost time to patrol.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor could hear the footsteps of the two male guards that occasionally visited his floor.

”she never wants to hang out. Fucking bitch thinks she better than us or something?” A voice whined.

”oh you know how she is. Work on the brain. She wouldn’t be so strict if she loosened up a bit hahaha i would love to fuck that.”

Alastor grimaced. Disgusting trash 

He might have been a certified lady killer, but he was still a gentleman. And lowly scrum like them didn’t even deserve to think of you that way.

You were his.

And he’ll make sure of that.

A dark smile crept on his face just at the thought.

———————————————————————————-

It was fairly quiet tonight. 

You found yourself standing outside Alastor’s cell.

”You gone say something cherie or stand guard all night. I promise I have no intention of escaping.” He purred.

You frowned “I have nothing to say to you”

You heard him laugh “really? You had a lot to say five years ago”

He was baiting you, you knew this, but your temper was hot

”You are despicable you know that? You think you so smart, but you know something Alastor? You got sloppy. Tell me. Why? Why did you kill all them girls?” You hissed, now facing the door.

You hadn’t even realized his hands were out in the slot until his large hands grasped yours.

You tensed and went to tug your hands out of his, but he firmly kept a grip.

”why? What kind of question is that? The answer is simple.” His thumbs rubbed your hands.

”No the answer was stupid. You commited those crimes, killed those innocent women for pure fun? They should have sent you to the Ward.” You said angrily.

Alastor smiled, through you couldn’t see it

”Maybe but I’m completely in my right mind I assure you. The reason for all the mess? Simple…they weren’t you” he bent down to press his lips to your knuckles.

You ripped your hands back, eyes wide “you’re sick”

He hummed, rolling his eyes.

”doesn’t change how I feel about you darlin”

He was surprise to hear the lock to his cell and the door open to reveal you.

And you were angry.

Your face was balled into a frown “It was never about me! You think I would believe that shit!” Your hand pulled your gun, aiming it at him “You’re nothin’ but a liar and a killer. Ain’t no love in that dark heart of yours. You are incapable of love.” Your lip quivered slightly, giving way to your emotions under the glare you held.

Alastor walked up to you, right up to your gun pressing against his chest, his hands were up, but he was still craning his head down at you “is that what you tell yourself about me dear?” 

That sharp smile on his face, his eyes wide “then kill me. Pull the trigger and serve justice.”

His eyes were analyzing you. You were panting, chest constricted in your uniform, cheeks flushed with anger but your plump lips wobbled.

One of his hands gently wrapped around the gun, lowering it as he pressed against your body. The other taking hold of your chin.

He lowered his head til his lips were but a whisper away, ghosting yours lightly “What i feel for you darlin, love ain’t got nothing on it”

Your brain seemed to catch up with the situation you were in and you tried to reestablish control, but Alastor had already sunk his claws in you.

Your eyes widened when his lips slammed on yours, your hand with the gun whipped to hit him across the head, but he caught it and used the momentum of your body to twirl you around and pin your arm against your back, making you drop the weapon as you wince in pain.

His lips were at your neck, nose brushing against your ear

”never drop ya guard dear, didn’t they teach you that?” He taunted.

You struggled against him as he pushed you down on the small bed, pressing you down with his weight. 

You thrashed about, body filling with panic as you couldn’t throw throw him off you.

Alastor grunted as you kicked at him, narrowing his eyes as he pressed his full weight against you.

”easy doll easy. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Well too much hehehe” his brushed his nose against yours, trailing his lips to kiss your cheeks and jaw.

With his hips fixed between your parted thighs, he pressed his hardening length against the softness of your covered mound.

Large hands cupped your breasts, and before long you heard a tear. Your eyes widened as the cold air met your chest and gasped asho Alastor quickly made work of your bra. He let out a hoarse groan as he kneaded the tender flesh, mouth wrapping around a perky nipple, causing you to gasp.

He nipped and tugged the soft nip before lavishing it with his tongue, like an apology for the harsh treatment. ”I knew you’ll have the prettiest pair of tits. So full and soft. I can’t wait to see them bruised up from my teeth”

You clenched your teeth as you tried to ignore the rather pleasant sensations running through you. With your gun somewhere, all you had was your physical strength. You might couldn’t overpower him, but you could use his weight against him.

Taking the distraction of Alastor focusing on sucking at your chest, you tightened your legs around his waist and used his relaxed posture to flip the two of you over. With your arms free, you pressed your arm into his neck, thighs holding his hips down as you tried to regain your composure.

You tried held your elbow into his throat, glaring at him as he just smiled up you.

Alastor lazily placed his hands on your hips as he raked his eyes over you.

You were disheveled, hair fizzy and face flushed. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and another emotion. Your lips were swollen and your neck was slowly turning red. With your uniform ripped, your tits were fully exposed, nipples perked and littered with bites.

 You were beautiful 

“I am going to walk out of here and pretend this didn’t happen. You are going to stay right here until I close that door and lock it.” You said sternly, but Alastor wasn’t listening, he was grinding up into you slowly as he trailed a hand up your front, finger fondling with your ripped uniform. You went to slap his hands away when he cupped your breasts but the cold air that met your entire body made you freeze.

”That’s much better don’t you think?” He mused, fingers tapping your hips as he palmed your ass cheeks in full.

You quickly sat up, ready to get off him, when Alastor followed you up, arms locking you against him. He whispered in your ear, voice low and deep “oh you’re so precious. I can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy of yours baby” he kissed your shoulder as he pulled your panties to dip two fingers inside you.

You pushed at his chest, trying to shift your hips away but the motion made you fall back and you grunted as you fell to the floor.

Alastor sucked his fingers, moaning at the taste of you. He sat looking at you, grinning as he moved towards you. You scrambled back, wanting to put distance between the two of you, but Alastor long legs carried him to you and he wrapped a hand around ankle and dragged you back towards him, taking top mount to prevent your from flaring about like a fish.

Tears welled in your eyes as he quickly made work of his pants, freeing his weeping cock. You pressed your hands against his chest, which he took in one hand and held them over your head. He hummed a tune as he pressed his lips to your cheeks, peppering your face in kisses before locking his lips onto yours. You tried to jerk your head away but that didn’t deter him, as he bit down on your lips, crying out, your mouth was invaded by his tongue.

You barely had time to counter, when your breath hitched in your throat, feeling an unknown pressure between your thighs.

A staggered gasp turned into a pained cry as narrow hips thrusted up into you, sheathing his cock to the brim.

Alastor laughed into your mouth, licking at your teeth “Oooh? So I’m your first hehe I’m honored.” He slotted his mouth against yours as he snapped his hips against yours, wanting you to quickly grow accustomed to his brute pace.

The sound of sticky slaps and muffled moans radiated through the cell. Your legs rested on either sides of Alastor’s hips, shaking as he rocked into your body.

“What would the other guards think if they found out you let a dangerous killer fuck you? Hmm? This breaks so many laws baby. Hehe fuck you feel good. You take me so good ha! I knew you could.” A soft whimper bubbled out your throat. Your mind was fighting, but your body was welcoming the unwanted assault. 

Your tongue lolled out your mouth as Alastor’s cock dragged along your insides, making your back arched as he hit a nerve that had you moaning.

Your soft moans spurred the man on as he angled his hips, pounding you into the cold floor.

Oh how long he had imagined fucking you. You were like nothing he could have imagined. Your tight cunt clinged to his dick as he bullied it through your walls.

He caught sight of your discarded gun and grabbed it, resting the cool metal against your skin. Your eyes widened, body freezing despite the jolts from his hips.

His brows quirked when your cunt clenched “Scared or horny baby?” He chuckled darkly, leaning back onto his knees, pulling you with him. 

He let out a soft moan as you sunk down on him, uttering dirty praise and encouragement. “You gonna ride me baby? Hmm? You gonna let a killer stretch this pussy out? Ill make you feel so good baby” he rocked up into you, softly thrusting.

You rested your head into the crook of his neck, shaking as Alatsor’s hands rubbed your back. The gun slowly trailing up your skin. One hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back, as you felt the tip of the gun at your chin.

Alastor cooed as he pulled you down into his thrusts, making your jaw clench “k-kill me bastard” you hissed,  eyes clenched feeling his cock bury into you with a wet squish.

Alastor’s body vibrated as he let out a laugh “Kill you? Oh darlin no. then there wont be a pretty face to look forward to see everyday. I have no desire to paint the walls red with your blood haha no I want to paint your walls white” 

You leaned into his body, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his skin and out of anger for the onslaughter of pleasure you sunk your teeth into his neck.

Alastor’s cock twitched as his hips snapped into yours as a response. 

Fuck! He eyes rolled slightly into his skull “careful baby. I hate to put a baby in you so soon” he chuckled.

Then the light bulb went off in his head

On second thought… 

————————————————————————————-

You shouldn’t be doing this as much. 

This was so wrong! On so many levels. 

Many many violations. 

Hell you could lose your job!

You almost hoped that another guard would come by and see what was happening so you could get out of here…but that wasn’t going to happen.

This is your floor and yours alone.

”OooH fuuuuccck, p-please! don’t… stop” you whined, throwing your head back, body leaned back with your arms trying to support your body as Alastor rammed up into your pussy. You hadn’t given much thought to sex, but he must be what girls in college use to call ‘packing’. His dick felt like it was splitting you in two, hitting that spongey nerve just right.

The man let out a gruff laugh beneath you, one hand on your hip to bounce you on his cock and the other holding that stupid gun against your clit. The cool metal sending shocks through your cunt. ”Oh you’ve made such a mess darlin” he tsked, eyes focused on his cock disappearing into you. A frothy cream coated the base of his cock, making both of your inner thighs sticky.

“But you’re so pretty when you’re messy.” He smirked, tilting his head

”I-I hate you!” You cried as he pinched your clit, slowly drawing tight circles on the bud. He hummed, kissing up the column of your neck “But your cunt says otherwise” he purred as he started pulling you down harder into his thrusts. Your eyes rolled as loud moans and whines left your throat. You might didn’t realize, but you had been fucking him back since the very beginning.

All that pent up frustration and tightly bound moral code snapping the second his cock breached your virgin walls.

Your cunt fluttered around him as he sucked a tit into his mouth. He released the sore nipple with a pop,tonguing it as he watched your face distort with pleasure as he had you met his thrusts.

“You’re everything I imagined and so much more” he whispered. He couldn’t help but admire you like this.

You opened your mouth to say something snarky, but he caught your lips as he sped up his pace, swallowing your gasps as he hit the sweet spot that had you mewling.

He felt your cunt clench and contract, allowing him deeper access to nirvana.

“Don’t you wanna cum baby? Because i know i do fuuck! Be a good little slut for me baby” Alastor hissed, feeling his dick twitch.

Your orgasm must have been approaching because you started to push against him, hips trying to raise and get off his dick.

Oh you weren’t going anywhere.

A gasp escaped you, your eyes wide as he tightened his hold on your hips “N-no no no no Alastor stop! Dont!” You pressed your hands against his chest to try and lift off him, but to no avail.

He laughed in your ear wickedly ”you are going to cum on my cock whether you like it or not baby ”

He wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to take the full force of his thrusts, wanting to break you from his cock.

You whimpered, eyes clenching as you buried your head in his shoulder. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you tense and hips grind into his to instinctively ride out the pleasure 

“I’m cumming ooh fuck fuck fuck! Alastor!” You whined loudly, body slumping as you shook against him.

Alastor kissed your shoulder as your cunt fluttered, hips stuttering and with a groan he cummed inside you, pressing you down to take all his dick as he painted your walls.

His dick twitched before he pulled out of you, smiling as his cum slowly leaked out of you as you slipped off his lap, glaring at him as he smiled at you.

Your eyes widened as he pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket.

”I think your boss would be very surprised to hear you fucking a criminal heheh”

tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the device, but he held it out of reach, opting to grab your hair and pull you flush against his cum covered cock.

”but don’t worry my dear, no one will know your little secret…as long as you play nice” his teeth split through his smile as he tapped the tip of of his dick against your lips.

”After all I wouldn’t want to lose my assistant again after breaking her in finally don’t you agree?” He hummed as he pushed his dick into your mouth, sighing as you gagged around him.

“That’s my good girl”

He never forgot about you. 

How could he?

You were his favorite doll after all….

—————————————————————————————-

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[bwabys-scenarios]

Adoration or Obsession?

Yandere!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: mentions of past choking, Kurapika is pretty unstable and clingy, possessive/obsessive behavior

A/N: this is based off of this ask, so if you want context, go read that first!! Just wanted to show the aftermath of that situation, because Kurapika is very intent on trying to make it up to you… he just loves you :(

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, I have three. SFW, NSFW, and YANDERE. Just reply with which one/s you want.‼️

YANDERE TAGLIST: @adissonsss @lightshowerrr

Kurapika had been a bit distant after the incident at first, avoiding you unless it he needed to tend to your injuries. It seemed his rational side was trying to tell him to give you space to recover, to heal without him breathing down your neck…

But you wouldn’t be there, stuck in his home against your wishes if Kurapika always listened to his rational side.

So in the middle of the night, just two days after ‘the incident’s you could the empty side of your bed sink under someone’s weight, and soon after hands wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against a warm chest.

“I’m so sorry…”

You knew it was Kurapika who had entered your bed, but you hadn’t expected to feel tears soaking into your shirt and neck as he clung to you tightly. “So sorry, my angel… I knew you were just saying those things out of frustration, and yet…”

You could feel his arms stiffen when your breath hitched slightly as he kissed your neck. The bruises he left were still tender, every touch making you writhe in pain.

“F-fuck, it hurts doesn’t it? Oh my love…”

His grip tightened, and he wrapped his legs around you, clinging to you for dear life. Before he kidnapped you, Kurapika had been your dear friend, someone you loved with your entire heart. You knew how terrified he was to lose you, the last person he had.

And the knowledge that he could have been the very one to take your life away had him shaking in both anger and fear. He had taken you away for a reason, to keep you safe from those who wished to harm you.

And yet he had been the one putting his hands on you, someone he had dedicated his life to protecting. He still couldn’t get the sound of you choking out of his mind, the sight of the light starting to leave your eyes as you stopped fighting him.

He still had claw marks on his hands from your desperate attempts to survive. Kurapika would have a constant reminder of his actions, of what he did to you, his beloved.

“Kurapika…”

His attention was drawn to you when you spoke up, your voice soft and hoarse due to your injuries. “Yes, my love?”

“I’m… I’m sorry…”

Kurapika went deadly silent. The fear in your shaky voice was enough to tear his heart into millions of pieces. He had never wanted you to fear him, Kurapika wanted you to love and need him more than anything.

“No, no no no… don’t apologize, shh… I know you didn’t mean it, I shouldn’t have… I…”

He started to choke up, his heart racing and his eyes scarlet as he remembered seeing your nen energy growing weaker.

You weren’t a nen user, you could t control it like he could, and you were going to die. Kurapika had nearly killed you. If he hadn’t of snapped out of it in that moment and let you go so you could breathe, you would be dead.

“You’re… you’re fine. You’re with me, everything is okay.” Kurapika said, trying to reassure himself more than anything. He began to rock you back and forth, cooing softly as he pressed kisses into your cheeks and temple.

“You’re mine, and I’ll take care of you. I would… I will never hurt you again. Ever.”

Though a bit afraid, you were able to fall asleep soon enough from the gentle rocking. It helped that he was using his nen to help ease the pain in your neck, healing it slowly, day by day.

When you woke up, Kurapika was awake, bags under his eyes as he watched you. His hands were petting you, caressing your face and running over your hair. “You’re awake…”

He sighed in relief, relaxing against the bed. You rubbed your eyes, and noticed his were red and puffy from crying. Kurapika just looked exhausted overall.

“Did you… sleep?”

He looked away from you, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. “… a little. But…”

Kurapika couldn’t sleep much, worrying that somehow you would die in the middle of the night. So he stayed up, watching over you until you woke up.

“… I need a shower…”

You sat up and walked towards the bathroom door, a bit disturbed when he followed you. “Um…”

“Shh…”

He walked in with you, turning on the shower and grabbing you a towel. “I… won’t look. But I’m staying in here while you shower.”

His words left no room for arguing, so you undressed and got into the shower. You were too tired to complain, and too afraid of what he might do if you asked him to leave. You could tell he was unstable now, and you couldn’t predict what he was thinking or going to do when he was like this.

And it scared you.

Kurapika knew he was being clingy and selfish, but he just couldn’t shake the fear that if he left you alone for even a second, something bad would happen.

As soon as you were dressed, he was back to clinging to you. Before he had taken you away, when the two of you were madly in love, you would have been incredibly happy to have all of his attention on you.

But now all you wanted was to be left alone. He was smothering you, keeping your body flush against his as he breathed in the smell of your shampoo.

He just wanted to know that you were still here… that you were still all his.

Kurapika wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. “… I’m sorry, (Name).”

You didn’t respond, simply holding onto his shirt.

“I’m sorry I can’t love you like a normal man could. You’d probably be much happier with someone that didn’t keep you locked up in a cage like some sort of exotic animal. Someone that wasn’t so scared to lose you that he hurt you himself…”

He held onto you so tight you winced.

“But I’m selfish.”

Tears dropped onto your head, and he choked up. “I’m so selfish (Name), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I’ll never be able to let you go.”

You weren’t really sure how to feel. On one hand, there was a time where you had loved Kurapika more than anything… but on the other, he was now your captor, keeping you from being free.

Still… you buried your face into his neck. Even captive birds wanted their owner’s comfort sometimes, and they even could give some comfort back.

“Don’t cry… let’s… just go back to bed.”

Despite the fact it was early morning, he didn’t protest, carrying you back to bed and pulling the blanket over your bodies.

“I love you…”

The words were soft, full of affection and a hint of guilt, as if his love was something shameful and scary. You nodded, laying you head against his chest as he held you tightly.

“Love you too…”

[banj0possum]

Can we get a zombie horde with a gn! Reader where their abusive family finds them again?

after years of inactivity im fucking back ! sorry for the long long wait but at least im able to put out a few more fics !

Zombie Horde!Reader's Abusive Family Finds Them Again

CW: verbal abuse, abusive family, (mentioned) being rejected food

💀 You haven't always been alone in your travels, in fact, you were with your family when the outbreak happened. But to be fair, you never liked your family..

💀 They would always bully you, boss you around, even put the blame on you whenever something bad happened, the torment didn't end even when there were zombies banging on your doors!

💀 In fact, because of the virus, they got even more cruel to you.

💀 They would take away your food rations for any small mistake you did, make you take the night watch for days on end, even send you out to get supplies just because 'you talked back that one time'!

💀 You couldn't take it anymore and left, knowing anywhere would be better than being stuck in a house of people who did nothing but torture you.

💀 You thought you were safe from them, cuddled up with Ribs in your bed as the others wandered around the abandoned mall, but it all came back when you heard a familiar voice shout out your name from the distance..

💀 "(Y/N)?! I know you're here you runt!"

💀 It was your dad...

💀 Ribs sat up as soon as he heard it and snarled, crawling out of bed and going out to see the commotion.

💀 Your heart raced as you followed him, but it was hard to walk with your body trembling at the thought of seeing him or any of your family again.

💀 "Jesus there's four of them!" "What are you waiting for you stupid bitch?! Shoot em!"

💀 It seems your mom was also there..

💀 You run the broken escalator and see the horde fighting with your family, gunshots ring throughout the mall as you see your beloveds blasted with bullets.

💀 You weren't scared though, they were dead after all, but it was still heartbreaking seeing them get hurt.

💀 You pick up a nearby rock and throw it at your dad to get his attention away from the boys. They all look at you, your family glaring at you while the horde coos at your presence.

💀 "(Y/N) you come here right this fucking second we're coming home!" Your mother shouts at you, walking over angrily and grabbing your arm strong enough to leave a red ring.

💀 Bo fumes and pulls her of you "You stay away from my mate ya hear me?!" he growls.

💀 "It talks?!" She yelps as your dad comes over as well. "Mate? Don't tell me you're hangin out with these monsters! Are you that much of a dumbass?!" he scolds you.

💀 You shrink, knowing whatever you say will make things worse..

💀 "Why you little whore.." Your dad growls, about to slap you, but Screw runs over and pushes your dad away, sending him back a few feet.

💀 Ribs and Soda smile and clap as Bo and Screw help you up.

💀 "You ok darlin?" Bo asks you in a sweet tone. "Is your arm ok? Does is hurt? Do you need a bandaid? I have a pink one with a cat on it.." Screw looks at the mark your mother gave you.

💀 You smile and assure them everything's ok.

💀 "Fucking freaks..(Y/N) do you hear me?! Get your ass up and let's go!" Your dad yells at you again as he stand up.

💀 "They're not going anywhere mean guy!" Ribs growls at him.

💀 Your mom is to the side next to Soda, she sneers at him and he looks back at her, giving her the middle finger, making her scoff and look away.

💀 In a shaky tone, you ask how they found you. You've cut off contact with them for months, there was no way they could find you..

💀 "Hah! Your dumbass thought you were just some person in the middle of nowhere? Half the state knows about your little talkin freak boyfriends!"

💀 You look down in shame as Bo and Screw comfort you "I think it's about time you folks leave..." Bo says, glaring at your parents.

💀 "Oh no you're not kicking us out! We came all this way to get this ungrateful little leech back! We gave them shelter and this is how they repay us?! You should've learned your place and stayed put!" he berates you. You finally snap and yell back at him, telling him all the things you've endured in their household, how you were treated like dirt every day, how you were much better off without them.

💀 Finally you firmly tell them to leave, pointing to the exit as you look at him with no fear left in your eyes. He scoffs "Fine..go get killed on your own then! Don't come to us for any fucking help!" he yells as he leaves, your mom in tow.

💀 Ribs laughs at them as they leave while Soda smiles at you.

💀 After the whole interaction, you were completely exhausted, the boys huddling up with you to calm you down.

💀 You give them all well-deserved kisses for protecting you, they all coo and chirp at the affection and kiss you back.

💀 "Do you still want that bandaid?" Screw asks you softly.

💀 You say yes.

this one was pretty short but expect more fics to be sent soon ! love you guys and remember that youre awesome and amazing !

[coryosbaby]

:¨ ·.· ¨:

`· . Be my daddy

(Dark! Dbf! Joel miller x reader)

A/N: tryna get my swag back u guys. Also if there r any spelling mistakes I’m sorry 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Thinking ab creepy n pervy Joel making you grind against your teddy bear in the middle of the night after sneaking into your room.. n then fucking your brains out after <3

Warning: 18+, somnophilia, pervy behavior, slight dubcon, possessiveness, overall dark themes// age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 50s), masturbation, cum play, grinding, daddy kink, spit, breeding kink, spanking, choking, size kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, dbf! Joel my beloved <3

Joel was always quite impatient.

And after a long night of drinking and watching the new football game with your father, he’s become tense. As fun as it is to sit and conversate with his best friend, his head is reeling now. He notes to the man beside him that he’s going to bed. A nod, as your father agrees the same.

And a few minutes later, as Joel leans against the closed door inside your bedroom, he watches you with his cock in his hand.

Of course, like the good girl you are, you had decided to go to bed early. You were on a college schedule, after all. So Joel hadn’t seen you all night. Not being able to catch sight of that familiar head of hair, tits out and ass bouncing under those short skirts you love so much, frustrated the man to no end. He grunts as his thumb moves over the slit of his girthy length, as he watches the way your breasts heave with each passing breath you let out. He’s surprised he hasn’t been caught yet. He’s been doing it every night that he comes over, after all.

He knows it’s wrong. But fuck, you’re so delectable; your curves are absolutely stunning, your lips perfectly full and plump, your thighs plush and soft. He can’t resist watching you. And it’s as if you want him to do this. You know he lives next to you, you know that he can see inside your room from your window that has no curtains, can watch you change and masturbate and do whatever the fuck else. You’re just begging for him to fuck your tight cunt.

It’s a wonder that he hasn’t done it sooner.

He moves a bit closer. Just close enough to be near the foot of your bed. The thought of you catching him like this gives him a thrill. His cock kicks when you turn over onto your side to face him. Your eyes are still shut, your brain still sleeping numbly.

“There she is.” Joel manages to breathe out through his sharp inhales. You look like an angel to him.

Your nipples are hard through your silky white slip. Joel can notice them now, as they make two small lumps in the fabric. Your tits are pushed together from the position you’re in. And Joel’s favorite part: your legs are stuck in between the fat of your thighs. It’s always been the kind of position you’ve laid in, as the warmth from your legs pussy brings you a sort of comfort. Joel can feel himself nearing his high.

And since he’s already doing it, what’s so wrong about moving a little… closer?

Bringing his strong arm down, he holds onto the wall as he kneels down on the edge of your bed. He’s so close now, your face a mere few inches away from his cock. He continues to stroke the skin of his shaft, watching your full eyelashes and pretty lips.

“God,” he murmurs. You can’t hear him, but that doesn’t stop Joel from running his mouth regardless. “Gonna cum all over this slutty little face, darlin’..”

And he does just that. His abdomen clenches, head thrown back as he begins to squirt warm ropes of semen all over your face. He lets out a very loud groan.

And of course, finally, that wakes you up.

When your eyes peel open, the first thing that comes to mind is that..

Your face is fucking wet.

That’s what you gather. So, you bring your fingers up to wipe- Elmer’s glue, maybe?- out of the sockets of your eyes. And when you look up, you see Joel.

A confused and disgruntled “what..?” Sounds from your mouth, and then when you see Joel looking down at you, you begin to take sight of him. He’s still jacking his cock.

“Joel?”

The man’s mouth falls open, another wave of pleasure rippling through him. He’s getting hard for the second time in a row. Your brows furrow as you look down. It must be too dark and you must be too tired to fully grasp what act your dad’s friend is commiting.

“Joel.. what’re you doing?” You sleepily mumble. It’s quickly replaced by a gasp of surprise when his hand goes up to grope your breasts, his rings cold against the bare skin of your collarbones. He becomes desperate, practically clawing at your soft body to get a taste of you. His tongue goes up to the apples of your cheeks. He kisses you there, soft. And then, the soft muscle inside his mouth runs along the ridges of your skin. His own cum connects to his lips in a sticky white string.

“Sorry baby,” he groans. “ couldn’t help myself...”

His thumb runs across your bottom lip, legs resting in between your spread ones, and he kisses you. You’re awake now, with enough brain power to register what’s actually happening. But if you’re being honest, you don’t want him to stop. Your hands shyly go up to his hair, still a bit disoriented. His messy locks are soft underneath your fingertips as he begins to slip his jizz soaked tongue into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, heat beginning to gather in a pool between your legs. You can taste his cum as it evades your taste buds, musky and salty. Pulling away, you can feel his cock press against your thigh.

“Did you…” looking down, his stiffness is right there. Wet and hard and incredibly prominent, now. A small whine escapes you. “Joe…”

“‘M so hard for your cute little face, darlin’…got me gettin’ it up twice.”

That makes you mewl, as his mouth moves down to your neck. Your virginal hands shakily grasp his hair. On a particularly harsh tug, Joel groans. You think you’ve hurt him and done something wrong, and your nervous mouth begins to spew apologies. “Joe.. never done this before, ‘m sorry..”

Joel moans, maneuvering your body so he’s on his knees and in between your spread thighs. Your innocence makes his brain turn to mush.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetness. You’re such a good girl.”

He says it as he slips off his shirt, exposing his broad chest and muscles to you. A hard working man, Joel Miller is definitely built to hold things the way he wants them. So when his pants are finally removed, he uses his strong arms to lift your body and move the both of your upper parts towards the end of the bed. There’s more space, now, less stuffed animals and things.

There’s a moment of stillness, and then your hands are wrapping around a familiar furry object as you land down onto the mattress. It’s your stuffed teddy bear, the one Joel had gifted you for your birthday last year. It’s pink, with a bright red bow wrapped around its neck and a pair of black button eyes. You had named it Teddy, and it’s your favorite plushy.

Joel’s eyes move to your hand around it, and he smiles, amused.

“Does my baby want her teddy bear? Hm?”

His voice is teasing, but he brings it away from your grip and lifts himself away from your body. You whine, trying to grab his hands and put them back on you, but the man doesn’t budge.

“No,” he says. “I want you to use your teddy. Do you think you can do that?”

Your face flushes. It’s vulgar and filthy to suggest such a thing, but you want Joel to be proud of you. You’re hesitant, though. You’ve never done this before, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you quietly ask, “Can you teach me?”

Joel isn’t one to deprive you of a good lesson. “Of course.”

And that’s when he’s flipping your nightgown up to your chest. Your tits are exposed, along with your bare pussy hitting the night air. There’s no point in wearing underwear in this hot weather, after all. The sudden movement surprises you, and you’re quick to try and conceal yourself. Joel just laughs at your shyness.

“You’re beautiful, darlin’. Don’t do that.”

With hesitation you bring your hands away from your most private parts. Joel’s eyes turn dark, expression laced with lust. “Spread your legs for me.”

It’s a demand, and when your face heats up and you begin to slowly undo them, the man rolls his eyes and yanks them apart with his own hands.

His eyes practically roll back at the sight of your pulsing cunt. You’re soaked, juices dripping down the expanse of your pussy lips, practically swollen and begging to have a cock between them. Your clit is poking through, and Joel might be going crazy but he swears he can see the cute little pearl throbbing.

“God, look at that..” his finger ghosts over your slit, and then he’s using to of his fingers to expose your unused hole to him. “My little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Little cunt is so small, too… don’t know if my big cock can fit in such a tiny little pussy.”

The force of his words makes you gush, and you shake your head at the thought of not being able to take him. He chuckles at your reaction. You exhale shakily, watching as his fingers still toys with your body. But then he grabs the teddy bear and begins to ghost its plastic nose over the inside of your thigh.

“Teddy’s gonna show you how to play with your pretty pussy. And I’m gonna watch. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You’re aching, and you’ll do anything to relieve it. And even though this all happened so suddenly, you can’t help but be happy that Joel is giving you this much attention. He’s been around for years, has been there with you through everything, and now that you’re all grown up you can let him take what he wants.

“Yeah, d—“ you pause, and the look on Joel’s face makes you flush with embarrassment. “—Joel. Yeah…” You stutter. A smile forms on his handsome face, as he presses Teddy’s nose right up against your clit.

“You can say it, honey,” he murmurs. “I’ll be your daddy. Use your holes and breed this little pussy just how I like. Don’t that sound nice? Daddy fucking his cum into your little belly?”

You clench at his words, your face practically on fire. You begin to grind against the bear’s nose.

“T-Talk to me more…” you say. Joel smiles, watches the look of frustration appear across your face when he lets go of the plushie and lets it rest against your cunt with no pressure. “Daddy, please!”

“I will, honey. But you have to make yourself feel good, for now. I’ll fuck you when you’ve earned it.”

You mewl as you bring your palm down and press the bear’s nose back against your clit. You begin to move your hips, twisting and turning the stuffed animal in a way that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. Joel puts his cock back in his hand and jacks himself off with vigor as you practically fuck the bear with your pussy.

“Feel good, baby? Teddy’s nose on your little clit?” Joel murmurs. “Look at you, gorgeous—“ a grin spreads across his face, almost sadistic. He twists his wrist and practically drools down his chin when your doe eyes look up at him, desperate and pleading.

“Wonder what your daddy would think if he figured out you found a new one.”

That shouldn’t make you drip down your thighs, but it does.

“D-Don’t say that, Joel—” you exhale sharply, as your face takes on a look of frustration. The bear isn’t doing enough for you. “Maybe I should find someone else if you aren’t going to fuck me..”

That comment makes Joel mad, and his expression turns dark. With a rough hand he uses your thighs to flip you over onto your hands and knees. Your eyes widen at his sudden change in demeanor, and his palm comes down hard on your left cheek. You gasp, burying your head in your blanket. The teddy bear is thrown next to your face as Joel harshly gropes your ass.

“Don’t tell me what to do, little girl,” he growls. “I’ll say what I damn please. Now hold onto that teddy bear while I split your little cunt open. Because I’m the only one who can.” His breath is hot on your ear, a bit of fear beginning to sweep into your psyche (and maybe a bit of arousal beginning to drip onto the bed). “You understand me, bitch? You’re mine.”

You nod, as much as you can in your position. And when you feel the tip of Joel’s length press against your hole, you begin to stutter.

“W-Wait! Daddy, I-I don’t know if I’m wet enough…”

“Oh, you’re wet enough, baby.” Joel infers, as he looks down at your glistening snatch. “Trust me.”

And when he pushes in, the burning stretch makes your eyes widen. Although not as uncomfortable as you originally expected it to be, he’s still above average; this would be hard for any experienced woman to take, let alone a young virgin like yourself. You cry out, pussy clenching around the cock penetrating your womb. Joel’s eyes are rolled back, sweat beginning to drip down his forehead as he tries to keep himself still.

“Gotta loosen up, baby,” Joel moans. “Gonna cum quick if you keep clenchin’ like that.”

“Can’t help it, daddy, ‘m sorry..” you cry, as he presses in more. After a moment you feel his hips press against you, his cock fully in. He rests there, waiting for you to ask him to move.

“Good?” He murmurs, questionably. You can feel every vein, every ridge of him inside, and it makes you nod dumbly.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” he praises. He makes one shallow thrust of his hips. It feels odd to you, and a bit painful. But on the next few thrusts, it has your toes curling in carnal pleasure. He feels so hot and warm, and when he grabs your throat from behind and bends you towards him, he presses a kiss to your neck.

“Doin’ so good. Doggy is the hardest position too, baby. You’re such a quick learner.”

And that’s what you like about Joel. He pushes you over your limits, makes you succeed them, go farther than before and then makes you feel amazing about it. In your hazy mind, Joel is practically a god right now.

“T-Thank you, daddy..”

A strangled moan comes out as he picks up his pace and begins to pound you at a rapid rate. The sound of skin on skin feels the room as Joel’s thighs slap against yours.

“So— fuckin’ good for me,” he growls. “Good girl. Going dumb on her daddy’s cock like the desperate little slut she’s supposed to be.”

Your eyes roll back, and he grabs your throat and squeezes hard. Your juices drip down his aching prick and he watches as your cunt swallows him whole. He chuckles when he feels you clenching him unusually hard.

“Gonna cum, darlin’? Or do you need me to touch you some more?”

“Need…” your eyes flutter shut, as you go brain dead on his cock. There’s a small string of desperate pleas of the man’s name in between your sentence.“Need you to touch my clit— Please, daddy, t-touch my clit! Make me cum!”

And then Joel’s fingers are coming down to your slick pearl, rubbing it between his two fingers as you release all over him. Your juices are gushing, squirting all over him and the bed, and Joel honestly doesn’t know how you can be any more perfect. He moans as you cream on him, and with a few more thrusts he’s filling your womb up with his seed.

The only thing left is you and Joel’s shared harsh breaths. Your legs shake as you stay buried in the mattress. It’s too hard to get up right now.

And that’s when you hear the loud voice beginning to come from outside as someone bangs on your bedroom door.

“Y/N! You better not have any boys in my house this late! I can hear you from downstairs! ”

You and Joel freeze. It’s your father, on the other side of the door.

And when the man looks across the hall, he catches sight of the empty and deserted room that his best friend has been staying in for months. You and Joel look at each other with wide eyes as your dad begins to scream, enraged.

“Joel?! Are you in there?!”

[sluts4matt]

Can you do one where y/n is inlove with nate since she was 14 but she's the sturniolo tirplets little sister and her best friend is in love with nate now she's 19 and still in love with him, she is dating this bot but he's not so nice to her and nate gets mad at him and one night y/n gone to nate while he was in LA and tells him that her boyfriend broke up with her because she didn't want to lose her virginity to him, nate is there for her so she kisses him realizing she betrayed her friend and brothers but nate tells her he likes her back they go on a couple of dates and 8 mouths later y/n loses her virginity to her high school crush meanwhile they have sex y/n best friend comes over and her best friend and her brothers didn't know they were dating till they hear her moan/or nate and y/n feels like bad friend but none of them actually care

SECRET

pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo

summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.

warnings: none

word count: 1631

authors note: a miniseries, whaaat. i am so fucking sorry this took me as long as it did @mssturniolo, next chapter in a few days most likely.

having feelings for your brothers' best friend had always been a no go. or at least that's what the movies always taught me, i found myself loving the trope from a young age, before i truly understood what liking a boy meant.

now i know, and am in fact involved with the same beloved trope of all of my favorite movies.

the feeling was planted when I was fourteen, my mom and brothers brought me to watch a friends hockey game. his blue eyes and blonde curls captivated me basically immediately. of course, i knew about the infamous nathan doe, he had been nick, matt, and chris' best friend since middle school.

i just hadn't had an actual conversation with him until he skated up to our area. nick, matt, and chris had all been freshmans' in high school while me and nate were still stuck in the eighth grade.

he had skated right up to us, the biggest smile i had ever seen, which i had thought was impossible because of the contagious one chris almost always wore. "hey guys'," he grinned, "hey erika," he said, the name falling from his mouth as if he had spoken it a thousand times before.

my cheeks flushed as i nodded and gave him a small wave. the butterflies felt instant and like they weren't gonna go away. the buzzer rang, signaling for everyone to get in their positions.

we watched as nate skated away on the ice, the silver blade of his ice skates carrying him away. "always such a sweet boy," i heard my mother marylou state from beside me.

after watching the game and watching nate score the winning goal, we all made our way out of the arena, nate quickly joining us. he swung an arm around chris' shoulder as he fell in stride beside me.

"you guys did good," i state, ignoring the heat i felt going to my cheeks. "yeah?" he asks, his boston accent thick, and i can tell he wants me to keep talking. "yeah, it was pretty impressive," i say. "im glad you thought so," he replies, and his smile is even wider now.

i feel my face heat up more as the words 'he's talking to me!' repeat in my head. "you guys staying the night?" he asks, turning to the three boys who all looked basically identical.

"can we?" the three of them ask, practically jumping up and down. "of course!" marylou answers, and the four of them start cheering.

my alarm blared, bangs coming from my door. "hurry up erika," i could hear nicks agitated voice, "you're gonna make us late," he continued with a groan.

i looked over at my phone, seeing that my alarm had been going off for ten minutes now. a gasp left my lips as i got up, frantically moving around my bedroom.

i pulled the first clothes from my drawers that my hands landed on, pulling my pajamas off and replacing them. i quickly put on deodorant and brushed my teeth before brushing through my hair. i applied a few layers of mascara to my eyelashes, watching the black envelop them and make them longer and bolder.

i heard nick groan once again, as i walked to my door. i opened it being met with his eyes staring down at me, "what's the point of an alarm if you don't wake up to it?"

"hurry up," chris sang from the bottom of the stairs, "we have to go get nate."

a smile was brought to my lips, before i quickly replaced it. nate and i had gotten closer in the past two years, most of our freshman classes were with each other so we grew accustomed to each other's company.

he always came to our house after practice or games, sometimes he would just show up unannounced to hang out, typically with the boys, sometimes me if they were busy.

he was an incredibly sweet person, he was always helping around the house and never expected anything in return. he was also extremely funny and had a great sense of humor and could make even the toughest situations funny.

"bye mom," the four of us stated, walking out the door. me and nick got in the back of the van while matt and chris sat in the front, matt being the driver.

nick started a conversation with the three of us, one that i mostly tuned out, only catching a few words here and there. the drive to nates house was short, like always.

matt parked by the curb and i watched chris pull out his phone to send nate a text. not even a minute later nate was walking out of his front door, a black baseball cap sat backwards on his head, his blonde hair peaking out slightly.

he wore a grey sweatshirt and black jeans, a bag slung over his shoulder. a wide grin appeared on his face as he saw the car, running and throwing himself into the back.

"morning," he smiled towards us all, scooting in beside me. "morning," we all mumbled, giving tired smiles. "why are you so happy," nick grumbled, leaning his head against the window.

"because we get to go to school, where they'll teach us, and fill our heads with knowledge," he said, grinning. "okay, now the truth," i giggle, poking his side.

his hand grabbed my finger, holding it. a smile stayed on his face, as his thumb grazed over the back of my finger, sending goosebumps up my arms. "i just have a good feeling about today," he answered. "okay psychic," chris joked, not taking notice to nate's hang wrapped around my index finger.

"well im glad you're so happy," matt added, smiling at nate. "are you guys excited for homecoming?" nate asked, looking at us. "no," me and matt respond at the same time, neither of us were one for big crowds and god knew that's what homecoming would be.

chris and nick on the other hand, had already bought tickets and were planning their outfits. chris was planning to take some girl named juliette while nick was trying to figure out how to ask his best friend to go as friends.

no one knew who nate was going with, at least not me. he didn't talk about it much in all honestly, today had been the second time i've heard anything from him about it in a month.

"who are you taking again?" chris asked, turning back to the three of us. "ava," nate smiled, causing my heart to drop. ava michaels was pretty, i had always envied her.

the way her skin looked flawless and clear all the time, her clothes, everything. her eyes were a deep blue color, and her hair was a dark brown color, almost black. her lips were plump and naturally pink, she was known as one of the prettiest girls in our school.

"lock it down bro, we'll be popular forever," nick joked. "it's not a date," nate chuckled, "just friends," he added, causing me to let out a breath i hadn't realized i was holding.

out of the corner of my eye, i could see nate look over at me, though i chose to ignore it. the rest of the drive was silent, except for the occasional joke or two.

when we finally arrived, matt parked the car in his original parking slot, putting it in park before he turned the key over, shutting the ignition off.

the four of us unbuckled and exited the vehicle, following the stream of kids entering the school.

the day seemed to move by in a flash, and i had found myself in the library, sitting next to nate, waiting for the bell to ring so the librarian could tell us what our english teacher had planned.

"did you do the homework?" i heard nate whisper. i looked over at him, his head was laying down on his crossed arms. "yes," i state, already pulling the paper from my bag so he can copy the answers.

i watched his eyes widen slightly, before a small smirk fell onto his lips. he sat up, scooting his chair closer to mine. his knee brushed against mine as he copied the answers, the touch sending a shiver down my spine.

he was close enough that i could smell his cologne, and i had to admit that i liked it. "thanks," he whispered, putting his paper away as the librarian began speaking.

"welcome, welcome, mrs. wilson called out sick very last minute, not giving us time to find a substitute," she explained.

"so instead you all will be working with a peer partner, groups of two, mrs. wilson says she doesn't mind who you work with as long as you're quiet and respectful," she finished, a smile appearing on her face.

"any questions?" she asked, but no one raised their hand. "perfect," she grinned, "get in groups of two," she said.

"hey partner," nate grinned, and the butterflies in my stomach erupted. "hey," i smiled, feeling a blush fall onto my cheeks. "so what do you wanna do?" he asked, his knee bumping into mine again, this time purposefully.

"shakespeare?" i suggest, and he nods, a smile on his lips. "what's your favorite play?" i ask, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper. "romeo and juliet," he smiles, making me smile as well.

"i knew you were basic," i joked, and his jaw dropped. "im not basic," he defended, a fake gasp escaping his lips.

i laughed, rolling my eyes as i wrote the title of the play on the paper. "we could compare and contrast the original play with the movie," he suggested, and i nodded, writing.

"good idea, let's start."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @catalina-island @stars4chratt @gbaabyyyy @monkeyscientist22

[pattypanini]

Danny Wagner x Reader

Last Encore

^my photo btw 🤭^

Summary: A special someone catches a glimpse of your sign at his concert. Little did you know how the night would end.

Word Count: 6.7k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is @mar-rein12 and I's second Danny oneshot. After seeing Danny in concert I've been losing my shit. It's hard to see in the photo but the man made eye contact with me not only here BUT LIKE TWO OTHER TIMES. I have not recovered and yes I'm making a oneshot because I'm delusional! Enjoy our second Danny oneshot, Last Encore.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, penetrative sex, oral (f + m receiving), praise, LOTSSSS of dirty talk, slight submissive/dom, flirting, choking, slapping, spitting, let me know if i missed any!

 Y/N’s POV

You finally got barricade. After so many years of attempts, you always happened to end up a couple rows back in the pit, but not this time. 

You are right in the middle, front row, able to get a perfect view of your beloved Danny. He was your favorite. You first started listening to the band in 2020 when you had seen an edit of Sammy. You looked up their band, listened to their music, and discovered their sexy drummer, Danny. 

All of them were attractive, of course, but something about Danny drew you in more than you thought possible. Maybe it was the curls, or the prominent nose, or his sculpted body. Maybe it was all of those things, but his talent is what stuck out to you the most. 

After buying the tickets you had planned what you were going to wear and a sign you could bring that would get Danny’s attention. 

You knew that Danny would be sporting his silver chain top and black pants so you wanted to match. You chose a silver sparkly tube top that pulled you together in all the right places, paired with a black leather mini skirt and matching leather boots.

You had also been thinking about what your sign would say for months. You made the words nice and clear so he would be able to see it from all the way where he was on stage. 

Greta Van Fleet Pit ☑️

Barricade ☑️

Bang the hot drummer? ⬜

You knew it would get attention and that nothing would come from it but you have to shoot your shot. 

So there you stand, dead center as they are in the middle of playing Highway Tune. You’re holding your sign out in front of you in hopes that Danny would see it, singing along and dancing to the music. You’re smiling like an absolute idiot, just taking in the beauty of all of them and the amazing music they are producing. 

Your eyes flick over to Danny, which has happened a lot since the start of the show. He makes eye contact with you very briefly, quickly looking away to focus on his playing. You feel the nerves bubble up in your stomach. He looked at you.

Fuck. That’s all you needed tonight to be satisfied. A few songs go by and they make it back up to the main stage after the acoustic set, you’re still holding your sign out hoping he’ll read it. He sits back down at his drums as Fate of the Faithful begins to float through the arena. Your eyes scan all the men and your eyes land on Danny yet again. 

You’re focused in on where his gaze is landing as he scans the barricade. His eyes land on you and the way his eyes are moving you can tell he is reading your sign. A huge smile spreads across your face. He looks away and shakes his head playfully, smiling to himself. The show continues on, you watch Danny catch a glimpse of you every now and then.

You mentally thank yourself for wearing such a low cut shirt. No doubt if you ever had the chance to check off that third box you’d take it in a heartbeat. As the show goes on, your staring contest with Danny was becoming more prevalent to you that it wasn’t a mistake. A fan with a ‘shot for a drumstick?’ sign finally got Danny’s attention and the light in that girl's eyes when he started walking towards her made you so happy. He walked past you, went to the girl and took their shot together. 

When you think he is going to continue up the row of people to get back to the stage he turns around and walks back in your direction. Instinctively you shoot your hand out much like all the other people. You nearly crumble into tiny little pieces when his hand collides with yours. His touch lingers a little longer than it should have and he shoots you a flirty wink. 

You clutch onto the bar in front of you to stop your legs from giving out. All this just when you thought it couldn't get any better.

The show wraps up, they all bow and walk off stage. You can’t control the happiness you were feeling. You stand there in utter disbelief with the amount of attention you got from Danny tonight. You decide you should probably head out considering you had to get up for work the next morning and lived a couple hours away from the arena. 

As you begin to exit the pit a security guard taps you on the shoulder. “Maam I’m going to need you to follow me.” As the large man starts walking towards the back of the stage a million thoughts go through your brain. 

Were you going to get in trouble about the sign? Or did you do something wrong?

You were so worried that you thought you should ask the guard what you had done.

“Excuse me, but if you don’t mind me asking what did I do? Am I in some sort of trouble?” You say trying to keep yourself on your feet from falling. 

“You were requested by one of the members to come backstage.”

You keep your mouth shut, nervousness beginning to take over your body. You can feel your hands start to anxiously shake, shaking the poster along with them. He leads you over to a dressing room, and leaves you standing alone in front of the door. You swiftly knock on the door and try to stuff the nerves away. Before he opens it you make sure you look okay and scoop your tits up a little more than you’d like to admit. You fluff your hair out to give it a little more volume when you hear the doorknob start to rattle. 

When the door is open you are met with 6 feet of pure sexiness. Without saying a word his eyes lead you into his dressing room. You take a step in and he grabs a towel off his vanity and drags it through his sweaty hair. 

“You don’t just have to stand there gorgeous, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable” Oh my god his voice was like velvet. He was talking to you. YOU. No one else. You accepted the seat in order to not pass out on the floor.  You sit there in total silence, unable to form any words. 

“For such a vulgar sign, you're not saying as much as I thought.” He continues running the towel through his hair, before draping over the back of his chair. 

“I just don’t know what else to say, I mean I really don’t understand how this is happening right now. Why did you ask for me? If you were offended by the sign I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to…” You fiddle with the rings that adorned your fingers. 

“Calm down. I didn’t bring you back because of the sign, well it was but not because it offended me. You’re a gorgeous girl and I wanted to talk to you.” He takes a seat beside you on the couch, his knee grazing yours. “What’s your name, beautiful?” He looks at you awaiting an answer. 

“Y/n.” You say, in your small, shaky voice. 

“Pretty name for such a pretty girl, but she’s just so shy.” He reaches a hand to your face and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Tell me more about yourself so I can hear that beautiful voice of yours. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Philly. But I have family out here so I came up to see them and go to the concert, which was amazing by the way.”

“I’m so happy you enjoyed the show, this was the best one so far on this leg of the tour.” He gives you a warm smile and you just simply smile back at him. A couple moments of silence pass before Danny speaks again. “Y/n, what do I have to do to help you loosen up? Let your guard down for me babydoll.” He runs his finger lightly over your cheek. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “I’ll make sure you are calm and ready for later, you want a few drinks?”

A shiver travels down your spine as you gulp, “Um what do you mean later?”

“Oh gorgeous, you can’t just be as sexy as you are with a sign like that and not expect me to see it. Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I mean. Unless that sign was a joke, was it a joke darling?”

“Um… no.” Your gaze travels down to your hands resting in your lap, shaking your head. “It was not a joke.” 

“Look me in the eyes when you talk to me.” He grabs a hold of your face and turns your head to look at him right in his beautiful brown eyes. “Say it again.”

“I-I wasn't joking.” 

“And what weren’t you joking about?” He looks at you expectantly, and you are loving this little game he is playing with you. 

“My sign..” You whisper.

“Your sign that says what?” He just wants to hear the filthy words come out of your innocent mouth. 

“Wanting to bang the hot drummer.”

“And who’s that hot drummer baby? Look me in the eye when you tell me.”

“You, Danny. You’re the fucking hot drummer.” You look him dead in the eye and just know he wants his ego stroked just like he wants his cock. 

“Yeahhh, it sounds so good to hear it come out of that pretty mouth of yours.” You see his eyes travel down your face and to your lips. “Bet you want to say so much filthy stuff but you’re too scared to, yeah?”

“Danny…” Sure you’ve pictured him saying all these types of things to you, but when he’s right in front of you… actually saying them. You squeeze your thighs together to help relieve yourself even if in the tiniest way possible. 

“What darling, tell me what you think about. All your dirty little thoughts. You have me right here in front of you, I won’t judge, just make them come to life.”

“You really want to know?” You tease him back with a raise of your eyebrow. 

“Fuck, yeah I want to know.” Danny lets go of his grip on your jaw, and you give him a mischievous smile. You figure there is no point in hiding anymore, you want to give him what you know he wants. 

You lean your head down to whisper softly in his ear, “I want you to fuck me like the little slut I am for you.”

“For me?” His jaw hangs slack as he pretends to be scandalized, a hand dramatically clutched over his chest. “Wanna make that happen darling?” He whispers to you.

No way this is happening, it must be a joke. Your eyes widen at his words, waiting for him to tell you he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but he never did. His eyes only grew darker, filled with lust and a need for something. And that something was you. 

“If you’re just trying to fuck with me I’ll leave now.” You start to make your way off the couch, when you feel his hand pull you by your arm back down.

“Why would I be trying to mess with you dear, you see anyone else back here?” He asks sincerely, rubbing your hand softly.

“Then why me, there were 15,000 other girls out there. You're telling me you chose me for a reason and not just to bring me back here, get me flustered and tell me to leave.”

“I mean normally if I bring a girl back it’s a chat maybe a blow job and they leave. But come on darling you're gorgeous, and a gorgeous girl with a sign like that is just begging to be brought back here. If I’m wrong you can leave, but I think after what you told me you’d rather be back here.”

Your breathing starts to calm down. You still don’t understand how and why you're back here.

“You want me to be honest y/n.” You look up to him, not knowing what he could possibly say. “I’ve seen you before. At the philly show a few months ago, and a concert from last year. I’ve seen you many times and was too scared to bring you back. But after tonight seeing your sign it made something go off in my head and I needed to talk to you.”

There’s no way he’s confessing this to you. This is something straight out of a dream you’ve probably had before. You’re trying to wrap your head around it but you can’t. “Danny I don’t get it though.”

“What is there not to get. You're a perfect girl who loves my band. Why wouldn’t I notice you? I would be fucking insane if I didn’t take the opportunity that was presented to me. I know you want it too, darling.” 

“So what’s gonna happen now?” You stupidly ask him, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

“I’m gonna take you back to my hotel room and fuck the shit out of you.” 

“I- okay um do you want me to wait for you to be done and leave with you or..”

“Darling, as much as I’d like for that to happen, if anyone sees me leaving with some random girl from the concert tonight it would be everywhere. What you're gonna do is wait outside and in 10 minutes a car will pick you up. They’ll bring you to my hotel room and give you a room card. Can you do that for me babydoll?”

You nod your head frantically and Danny reciprocates that with a mischievous smirk. He knows the effect he has on you, but you don’t care. You’re about to fuck Daniel Wagner, nothing could stop you now. You stand up grabbing your poster and bag and make your way to the door. Right as you go to grab the door you're twirled around to face him. 

“I’ll see you soon y/n.” Placing a kiss onto your cheek.

“See you Danny.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You turn back towards the door and open it to walk through. 

Excitement and thrill was pulsing through your veins as you walked outside the arena, and waited for the car just as Danny had said.

After about 13 minutes, not that you were counting, a black SUV pulls up right in front of you. You weren’t one to get into random cars, but with the circumstances at play you were going to do anything. 

“Y/n?” The driver asks through the open window.

“That is me!” You smile at him, waiting for him to grant you permission to hop inside.

“Hop on in, I’ve got the room key for you.” He holds it up in front of him. 

You grasp onto the car handle of the passenger's seat, opening it  and sliding in. You try your absolute best to wait the 7 minutes it takes to get to the hotel.

—

Once you arrive, you thank the mystery driver and make your way up the elevator. You assume that he is there waiting for you already. You swipe the card on the door and twist the handle, walking inside.

It's a nice hotel. A very nice hotel, might you add. Definitely not what you were used to that's for sure. As you step across the marble flooring you spot a little note on top of the wooden dresser. 

Hey darling,

I am back. I just needed to run to Sam’s room to grab something. Hop in the shower awhile, I’ll be there to join you in a minute. 

Nothing sounds more appealing than a shower right now. You stare at the note, deciding you should obey him. 

You drop your purse and sign on the table and make your way to the bathroom. When walking in you take a moment to admire the large shower with a rain shower faucet. You slip off your shoes and concert outfit and turn on the shower. The hot water rains down onto you and you lean your head back, letting the water soak you and your hair. You use some of the hotel shampoo and wash your hair liberally after the hot atmosphere you were in. 

You take a look around for body wash and can only find a bottle that was not provided by the hotel. A large bottle of body wash scented in musky vanilla. It must be Danny’s. You had no other choice but to use it since there was nothing else available. In the midst of your washing you hear the hotel door open and shut quickly. 

After a few moments, you hear the bathroom door creak open.

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear his voice. “Hi beautiful.” When the glass door opens you see that he is only in his blue gingham boxers. You must have stared for a moment too long because your attention is brought back to reality when he starts to pull them down to the floor. 

He steps inside of the shower, completely bare. You don’t realize your jaw is hanging open in awe until Danny says, “Pick that jaw up darling, there's so much more you have yet to see.”

He stops in his tracks right in front of you staring up and down your body, taking you all in. He gives you a questioning look, silently asking if he was allowed to touch.

“God, Danny. Please, just fucking touch me already.” You practically beg, and maybe you sound desperate but you didn’t have a single fuck to give. 

“So hungry for me baby, just you wait till after.” He grabs the bottle of body wash and squeezes some onto a new wash cloth. “Can I wash you darling?” He asks, leaning down towards you to kiss your neck. “Even though I can tell you already did, I don’t mind. You smell delicious, it makes me wanna take you right here.” 

“Then do it, take me right here.” 

“So goddamn desperate baby. Wait a little, we will get there, I promise.” Danny drags the washcloth over your collar bones and arms. He turns you to face the shower wall. You hear the wash cloth be thrown out the door and two hands are replaced on your body. His hands drag over your hips and around to the front of your stomach. The anticipation was killing you. His large hands are brought up to your chest as he cups your tits giving them a light squeeze. He pulls you back and presses you against his stomach. 

“Fuck Danny.” You feel his dick press against your ass as he grows harder. 

“I know darling, tell me about it. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers into your ear, squeezing your tits harder making you wince. 

“I’m thinking about how bad I want you to fucking touch me!” You snap at him.

“Little Miss shy girl isn’t so shy now, is she? She's getting very mouthy with me.” His voice is low and pierces right through you and your core. 

“Danny…” you whine out, aching for more.

“I am touching you babydoll. No need to whine like a pathetic little baby.” He chastises you, still with a firm grip on your chest. 

“You know exactly what I want Daniel, and you’re not fucking giving it to me. Just give it to me, God.” You push your ass back onto him harder, forcing a groan out of him. 

You take his moment of weakness to turn around and plant a feverish kiss to his soft, pink lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in so your fronts are pressed together. His hands rest on your hips, slowly slithering them around to rest them on your ass. 

He pulls away from the kiss making his way to turn the water off, very quickly. He guides your hips as you step out of the shower together. You reach for a towel when suddenly you’re scooped up draping over his shoulder. He walks out of the bathroom over to the king sized bed. 

He throws down onto the bed, as you're still dripping wet. 

“Danny, I’m still we-” 

“I thought you wanted me to touch you so bad?”

“I do…” You say as your confidence is faltering. 

“And I’m about to grant you your wish darling, just relax for me yeah?” Immediately after he is done speaking his fingers are gliding through your slick folds, teasing around your entrance. 

You let out a gasp when you feel him make contact with your cunt. He moves his fingers up to your clit making quick, tight circles on it. 

“Is this what you do to all the girls you bring back Danny? Tell them to get in the shower, sprawl them out on the bed and fuck them, then tell them to leave. You made me feel special Danny, or am I just like every other groupie?” You say in a testing tone, staring up to him.

“Oh babydoll, you’re just like them. Same driver, same card left out, same routine. But you yourself you're special. You drove me crazy seeing you in the crowd. Show me why you should be treated differently y/n. What makes you so special?” Swiftly inserting a digit into your soaked pussy. 

“You say that to make me feel like I’m the same, but I know damn well if I was just some other girl you wouldn’t have made it as secretive. Because those girls are disposable to you, you fuck them and go not caring who knows about the girls. So why am I being kept a secret? What makes me so different Danny, tell me.” You reach down to his stomach, feeling his happy trail on the way down. You firmly grasp his cock and slowly stroke it. 

“Fuck.” His head falls forward and his free hand that wasn’t inside of you, reaches out to roll your nipple between his knuckles. 

“You like that?” You taunt him, trying you best to gain your dominance back. 

“I do. But you know what would be so much better?”

You peel your eyes open awaiting his response. 

“Have my cock in that smart ass mouth of yours. Finally put it to use other than just being mouthy.” With that Danny grabs your hair and motions you to the ground. “So show me y/n, show me what makes you as special as you think you are.”

You immediately accept his challenge, guiding his dick into your mouth. You wrap your plump, kiss-swollen lips around his length and begin to bob your head up and down. You stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth with your hand, your other hand reaching around to grab at his ass pulling him closer to you. You hear an animalistic groan release from the depths of his throat. 

You release his length from your mouth and let it slap against his stomach. You cup his balls with your hands and slowly lick them and trail back up the shaft, pressing a kiss into the tip. You go directly back to sucking him, taking as much of him as you can, and you can feel his body start to shake above. 

“Darling, slow down. I- I won’t last if you keep going like that. Fuck.” His hands grasp onto your wet hair, throwing his own head back in pleasure.

You take him out of your mouth and pump him with your hands. “Is this how you react to all the other girls, can you not last long with anyone Danny? You just fuck them until you’ve had your fill and leave them hanging?”

“No, not at all angel. I always make sure my girls are satisfied. But you are getting so much more than that, you know why?” He looks down to you with his perfect brown eyes. 

“Why?” Kissing his dick while waiting for a response. 

“Because you're different. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t want to. Usually I take the girls that throw themselves at me. I noticed you, I wanted you. Now I finally have you, so I’m going to show you why I brought you here tonight.”

He pulls you up by your hair again, placing his large hand between the valley of your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He leans back, taking a look at your soaking core. “So wet baby, I barely did anything. You like me telling you you’re special?” He swiftly slaps your wet pussy, on instinct your body tenses up and you bring your legs back together. “Yeah, my special babydoll likes that, don't you? You like being praised. Spread those perfect thighs for me again.” He gently pries open your thighs, once again revealing your wet cunt to the chilly hotel air. 

He reaches to the drawer next to the bed and pulls out a familiar square foil. 

“Danny you don’t need to use it, I’m on birth control. If I’m fucking you I wanna feel all of you.” He grins and throws the foil back into the drawer.

“What a slutty girl. You want me filling you up with my cum? Or are you lying and not on the pill, you trying to have my babies, darling? You probably love the idea of that don’t you?”

“I’m not a crazy chick Danny, although having your babies has crossed my mind before.” You give him a playful wink before pulling him into a kiss. Your moment of bliss was soon interrupted by his cock being shoved deep into your pussy. 

“Oh fuck Danny. You’re so fucking big.” Your back aches away from the white sheets beneath you and hands clawing onto his back.

“God you’re so wet for me baby. Did sucking me off get you soaked? You did such a good job, almost made me cum before you started to smart mouth me.” His right hand grabs your jaw and opens your mouth. Having any time to react he spits straight into your mouth, closing it right after and sealing it with a kiss. “Now keep that mouth shout, unless it’s those pretty little moans coming out.”

His hands return to the sides of your head as he begins to slowly work up the pace of his thrusts. He was hitting all the spots perfectly. He was made for you. 

“Danny oh my god, don’t stop please. You feel so good.” You moan out before biting onto his shoulder. 

“Oh fuck y/n. You’re gonna be the end of me. You feel so fucking good around my cock darling.” His thrust became hard and more precise. He is quickly learning what little spots on your body make you lose it. He grabs onto your tits for leverage as his cock pistons in and out of you. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, babydoll.” 

“You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen darling. I saw you in that little slutty top of yours tonight. You were probably hoping I would see them pouring out, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Danny.” You try your best to keep your voice steady. But you knew exactly what he was talking about. You kept checking throughout the show making sure your tits were scooped up enough, hoping he would see. 

He saw right through your lie. A sudden slap was struck across your cheek. “Tell me the truth y/n.”

“Why were you even looking? For all you knew I could have been 17 or something.” He looks at you with a knowing look. “Or did you know how old I was Danny?” He looks away with a guilty look on his face. “Did you find my insta?”

“Why would I look at your insta, I didn’t even know your name.”

“That’s what you say. You wanna start telling the truth Danny? You made it very clear earlier that you had seen me before. So start spilling.” 

“No thanks, but I’ll spill my cum into your pretty pussy y/n if you shut up and let me fuck you.” He begins to sink back into you but you quickly stop him needing to know the truth. 

“No, tell me now. I want to know Danny.”

After a moment of staring each other down waiting for the other to speak Danny breaks the silence. “Yeah I found your insta so what. Doesn’t change the fact that you had your tits out for me tonight does it?” “It doesn’t. I’m sure you didn’t mind though, did you?” You let your fingers travel into his hair, feeling all his wet curls. 

“I didn’t mind one bit. But I wanna see them better, babydoll.” He quickly wraps a hand around your back and flips you on top of him, now straddling his cock. “Get to riding baby, unless you don’t wanna get filled up.” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You sink down onto his dick, starting to slowly move up and down on his length. Your tits start to bounce right in his face, before he leans forward and connects his mouth to your hardened nipple. He lays back down and grabs your hips, and begins to bounce you harder and fast down onto his cock.

Being filled was an understatement. You felt like he was overflowing your cunt. You always assumed he would be big but this was something else. The noises escaping your mouth was something you wouldn’t wish anyone to ever hear, but based on Danny’s facials he was loving every minute of it.

“God damn y/n, you sound so fucking pretty for me.” His hands grip tightly on your hips, beginning to thrust his own hips up to meet yours. “You want it harder babydoll, I think you can take it.”

“Yes harder Danny please I need more.” You whine to him, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re such a whore begging for my cock. You do that for all the other guys you're with or is mine just too much to handle?”

“Just-” He gives a particular powerful thrust knocking the air from your lungs, “-you. Just you, Danny. So big…” Your head falls back in pure ecstasy. 

“Aw I know baby, tell me about it.” He says in a whiny voice that makes you feel some sort of way. “Your taking my cock so well, such a good fucking girl.” As the hard thrust continues your hands make their way from his shoulders to his throat. 

His eyes widen at your movements and quickly shut after your fingers tighten around his neck. 

“Fuck y/n. Such a kinky girl. If I would have known you would be tied down to this bed right now.” His eyes are so dark now they almost look black. 

“Not too late for that Danny.” You say squeezing his throat with your hand a little tighter while simultaneously clenching around his cock. 

“Mmmm, tighter.” He whines out. You have no choice but to give him what he wants as you tighten your grip even more. You really take a moment to take in the situation at hand and soon enough…

“Danny, I’m so close.” You speed up your movements on his dick, searching for your release. 

“Me too, darling, me too. Just keep going so I can fill you up with my cum. I wanna see it leaking out of you.” 

That was enough to push you over the edge. With a few more bounces you were reaching your climax, screaming Danny’s name for the whole hotel to hear. A few short moments later, his climax follows. Curses and pornographic moans are flying freely, if anyone walks by the door they would know exactly what was taking place. 

He leans you back onto the bed, once again hovering on top of you. His hands trail down your body, all the way to your pussy. Two fingers quickly shove into you with no warning. 

“I told you I was gonna fill you up, but it looks like this tiny little pussy of yours can’t handle it all. I’ll help it back in for you, does that sound good?” He curls his index finger up into your g-spot, giving him the response he wanted. 

With a few more pumps he retracts his fingers from your soaked pussy and brings it up to your mouth. “Open.” Opening your mouth for him he pushes his finger deep into your throat. You close your mouth around the finger, letting him pull it out with a pop

“You taste so good Danny, makes me want more.” You reach your own hand down to your core, swiping a digit in between your folds, and licking up whatever cum you collected. 

“Fucking hell y/n. You’ve gotta be the hottest girl I've ever met.” You’re both still trying to catch your breath, your chests both heaving.

Danny rolls over and collapses by your side, he turns his head to look over at you. “ I have a fun little idea, if you’re down of course.” 

Your eyebrow quirks up at him, interest piqued. “What did you have in mind?”

“There's a sauna downstairs, I’d love for you to join me.” He gives you a soft smile. 

“Are you just trying to be nice or do you actually want me to join you?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I was just trying to be nice. I would have just sent you home with an uber.” He reaches an arm around your waist pulling you into him. “Plus I really have liked our night so far darling. I don’t want it to end just yet.”

“Well in that case, I’d love to join you.” You smile back at him. 

He takes a moment, studying your features. “You’re so beautiful Y/n, even have the most gorgeous smile. I could see it from all the way where I was sitting on stage.” He sits up off the bed and lends you a hand to get up. 

“I don’t know what to wear though, I don’t have a bathing suit.” You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you up. 

“Just put your bra and panties back on and walk down in a towel.” He reaches into the bathroom and puts a towel on the bed. You put on your strapless bra back on and slip into your thong. You watch as he covers his lower half with the fluffy, white towel. 

You reach for yours on the bed wrapping it tightly around your torso. You both quietly walk together to the sauna. 

Once you arrive, you walk into the humid and steam-filled room. Thankfully the sauna was empty, you didn’t want anyone seeing you in just your tiny thong.

You sit down on the wooden benches, Danny sitting right beside you. You let your muscles relax and let your eyes close on their own accord. As you lean against the wall behind you, you feel a large hand grab onto your thigh.

“You look so fucking sexy. You should take another layer off darling, the door is locked.” Danny reaches a hand behind you, swiftly unclasping your bra off your chest. You can’t help but let your jaw drop with how fast he was able to undress you. “Better pick that jaw off the floor darling, or else I’m gonna have to use it for something else.”

Your legs squeeze together hoping to get some type of friction. Your core was already soaking your panties that you only had on momentarily. Danny stares you down, waiting to see what your next move would be, but you couldn’t be the one to break.

“Fuck it.” Danny grabs your neck and pushes you down onto the wooden bench. He doesn’t even bother to pull your panties off of you. Instead he pulls them to the side giving him a view of your already wet pussy. He drops his towel and leaves no time to line himself up with your cunt. He slides into you, making you moan in satisfaction. 

“Shit Danny, that's right, fill me up. You’re so big.” A devious smirk washes over his face, before grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders. The new angle allows him to get even deeper than you thought possible. You feel his tip brush against your cervix. 

“Oh, God. Right.”He thrusts into you. “Fucking.” Another thrust. “There.” You were quickly crumpling beneath him. 

“Who’s making you feel good baby, tell me.”

“You.” You whimper under your breath.

“Say my name fuckdoll, who’s making you feel good?” He slaps his hand on your outer thigh.

“Fuck Danny you, you make me feel so fucking good. You fill me up so good oh fuck-” Your words were feeding him, and his pace was becoming sloppy. You knew he was nearing his end. “Yeah, cum in me Danny, fill me up with your cum. Need to feel it again” Your pussy clenches around him, making his hands clutch around your ankles harder. 

After a few more thrusts, loud sinful moans fill the hot room. Your waves of pleasure shortly followed Danny after he unloaded in your pussy. 

Once you come back down from your highs, you just simply look at each other without even saying a word, both rendered speechless. 

“God y/n. How am I gonna move on from this night?” He says through heavy breaths, taking your ankles off his shoulders. 

“How are you going to move on? I’m the one that should be asking that.”

“Like I said before, I’ve had my eyes on you y/n.” Danny grabs your towel and bra, placing them back around you. “Let’s go back up to the room.” He lends you a hand off the bench and leads you quickly back to the room in hopes no one would see your barely clothed bodies. 

After returning to the room you begin to grab your outfit from the concert and cloth yourself, preparing to get an uber and leave.

“Why would you wear that to bed?” He says to you as he begins putting on sweatpants.

“Well I’ll change when I get home.” Danny gives you a confused look, which makes you realize what he is implying. “Oh- did you want me to stay? I assumed you just brought me back up to get my shit and leave. I was gonna get an uber.”

“I’d like for you to stay y/n. Unless you have somewhere else you need to be.” He says beginning to walk over to you.

“I mean I was supposed to be home tomorrow but home can wait.” You place your bag back onto the table and stand in front of him. 

“And don’t think you’re going to be leaving without me getting your number first.” He scolds you with a pointed finger and raises his eyebrows. “Come join me in bed now, babydoll. I’ll get you something to wear, but first…” Danny walks over to his bag, grabbing a sharpie and uncapping it. 

He brings the sharpie to your poster, checking off the last unmarked box. “Now all of your list is complete.” He walks over to one of the drawers and reaches out a GVF shirt and boxers. “You can wear these if you want, and keep them.” Danny crawls into bed, and you quickly follow him after changing into the large shirt and boxers. 

You crawl into bed, not understanding how this was all real. 

“Hey Danny.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for tonight, I would argue it was better than the concert.”

“I would say that too babydoll.” He wraps his large arms around you pulling you in tight. “Good night, angel.”

“Good night, Danny.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 15

So... just one more chapter to go. I've experienced a wide range of emotions with this fic and to be honest, I'm grateful it's nearing the end.

I still will do the final book, just not sure when. As always keep an on the #boy with a bat, tag.

We finally get the moment you've all be waiting for. Robin and Steve on the floor of the bathroom.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Eddie spotted the Russians in military gear first. Two beefy guys with huge fucking guns and looks that would absolutely kill. Then he spotted two little blue sailors ducking into the theater. As far as he could tell, the soldier boys were looking for his friends, which meant the little idiots found their secret base.

“Found him,” Eddie hissed into the walkie talkie. “Only there are bad people looking for him. Please advise. Over.”

“You two together?”

“That’s a negative,” Eddie whispered. “Subject has ducked into the theater and the two bogies are in the food court and little ole me am stuck in the middle.”

“Is there a way you can lead them away from Steve without putting you in danger?”

Eddie chewed on his lip a moment and then said, “I don’t think so.” His lip quivered and a little sob escaped.

“Hey, hey,” Wayne said soothingly. “It’s going to be fine. I want you safe just as much as I want Steve safe, all right?”

Eddie breathed in deep and then let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, I’m really worried now. Even though I’ve seen him, it’s somehow worse than not knowing.”

“It only feels that way now,” Wayne murmured gently. “Just keep an eye out for both our boy and those Russkis, you hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Eddie replied weakly.

“I found out our beloved chef of police hasn’t been in town for the past couple of days either,” Wayne said, his tone grave.

“Shit!” he hissed. “This is beginning to look like an actual fucking conspiracy and I hate those.”

“I’m heading to the Sinclairs next,” Wayne said, “There has to be something–” there was the screeching of tires and then, “Holy fuck. I nearly ran over the younger Byers boy and the Sinclair kid. It doesn’t look good, Ed. They look like they’re gearing up for war.”

“Get them here as quick as possible,” Eddie said, “I have a feeling that what those shitheads are up to, it has to do with what’s going on here.”

~

Wayne let out a long piercing whistle got all the kids attention. “You need to get to the mall, I can get you there faster than on foot.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Lucas said politely, “I don’t think you want to be involved in this.”

Wayne scoffed. “Look kid, I’ve see a lot of horrible shit in my time, and I don’t know much, but I do know that Steve is in trouble and you guys are the only ones who can help him. So maybe cut the bullshit and get in the god damn truck.”

They all looked at each other and then nodded.

Mike pointed to El. “She’s hurt, can you help me get her in the truck?”

Wayne immediately hopped out of the truck and walked over to her. “I’m guessing any suggestion to take her to the hospital would met with resistance if not outright hostility?”

El and Mike looked at each other for a moment before El said. “I like him.”

Wayne laughed and bent down to pick her up. “I’m going to lay her on the back of the bed of the truck, you can stay with her if you like.”

Mike nodded and hopped up to the truck to help him get her situated. Once he was sure they were comfortable he hopped back into the driver’s side.

“Um...” Will said nervously, “how did you know they were at the mall? Dustin just contacted us, we just found out.” He left out the part that El had read Dustin’s mind to find out he was there.

Wayne glanced at him sidelong. “Your answer is on the other end of that walkie talkie.”

As if on cue the walkie talkie squawked to life. “Uncle Wayne, I just spotted the subjects going into the bathrooms by the theater and the bogies have moved off past the carousel. I’m going to make contact.”

Wayne grabbed the walkie talkie. “Sounds good, Ed. I have the sheep and am on my way back to the mall.”

“Eddie!” Will exclaimed excitedly.

“Baby Byers!” Eddie cried back. “I’m guessing things are freakier than Russians under the mall.”

Will went on to explain what was happening in town and what the plan was.

“Yeah, that’s pretty freaky,” Eddie said solemnly. “But between you and me we can deal with freaky, right?”

Will smiled and Wayne fought down a smile of his own. It was good to see his boy make Will feel better about the situation around his disappearance. Will had been called a freak a lot after that, and that was what they called Eddie too. But Eddie learned to own up the moniker and now he was helping Will feel the same.

~

God Steve hated puking. It was the worst. Right after concussions and being told by your very drunk girlfriend that she never loved you.

“Let’s see if the drug is still in us,” Robin suggested, leaning up against the wall.

Steve slid under the stall wall and into hers. He looked at her and breathed a sigh of relief. She was shaken but unharmed.

“When was the last time you peed your pants?” he asked, going for silly instead of trauma mining or secret finding.

“Today,” she admitted and then let out a gasp. “Yup! It’s still in there.” She covered her mouth with a giggle.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what? You peed your pants today?”

Robin held up her finger and her thumb and put them close together. “Just a little. When they were interrogating you.”

That made sense he supposed, with a wince. He was pretty terrified himself. He nodded and then waved at her to ask him something.

Her expression got soft. “Have you ever been in love?”

Steve was little surprised by the answer if he was honest. Which considering the drug running through his veins, he had to be.

“Twice,” he admitted softly. “The first was Nancy Wheeler.” It actually physically hurt to say that. He had loved her. Despite what she thought about her cheating and his sexuality.

“Seriously?” Robin said with a laugh. “Miss Priss?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Turns out, not so much.”

She was fierce and tenacious and everything Steve wished he could be, but wasn’t.

“The other is this most amazing, weird, talented person imaginable,” he muttered. “I never thought I’d fall for them, but fuck I thank whoever every day that I did. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without their support.”

“Steve...” Robin muttered. “I appreciate it, but if you really knew me, you wouldn’t like the person I am.”

Steve blinked at her for a second and then tilted his head. “Huh?”

“There was a reason I was so mad at you when you first started working at Scoops,” she murmured. “Last year in Mrs. Click’s history class. You would come in late, make a mess of the stupid bagel you ate, and all the while, she was looking at you instead of me.”

“Who? Mrs. Click?”

“No!” Robin huffed, kicking her foot against the toilet. “Tammy Thompson. She was looking at your stupid hair and your stupid smile and I would just go home and scream into my pillow.”

Steve blinked for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You thought I was talking about you?” He laughed again. “God, I thought I had terrible taste! Tammy Thompson is a dud.”

Robin’s mouth dropped in shock. “No she’s not. She’s going places. She can sing.”

“No she can’t,” Steve teased and broke out into song.

“You sound like a Muppet!” she hissed, kicking at his thigh instead.

Steve snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s it she sings like a Muppet!”

She burst out laughing again. “All right dingus, if you weren’t talking about me, who were you talking about?”

Steve picked at his nails for a moment. “Eddie Munson.”

Robin’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. “If we weren’t under the stupid truth serum, I would tell you to fuck off. Are you gay?”

“Yeah,” he said not looking up from his nails. “He was so kind to me after the whole shit with Hargrove and Nancy and he just makes me feel like a full person again. And he knows about all this bullshit, too. Because I told him.”

“So you and Eddie, huh?” she asked softly.

Steve nodded again.

Just then the door to the bathroom swung open and standing behind Dustin and Erica was Eddie.

“Hey, darlin’,” Eddie said, leaning against the door frame. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

Steve blinked up at him with a dopey smile. “Like what?”

“You puking your guts out.”

Steve’s smile broke out into a wide grin.

~

Eddie blinked at the flying car. Of all the things that he’d heard about, that was definitely not one he ever thought he would ever see. Not that he was complaining about the rescue. Of course not, that would be rude. And Uncle Wayne did not a raise him to be rude.

Then Super-girl collapsed in pain and a wiggling, squirming thing could be seen under her skin. Jonathan bent down and was going to cut it out but his hands were shaking too bad.

“Out of the way,” Eddie bit out. He grabbed the knife and pushed Jonathan to the ground. He turned to the brave girl. “You ready?”

She nodded once.

With the flick of his wrist the thing burst from her skin landing a couple of feet from them. Thankfully the opposite direction Jonathan had fallen but still gross.

Eddie turned green and scrambled to get away. Everyone else froze at the sight of the thing as it tried to get to El again.

BANG!

Eddie looked up to see Wayne with the rifle and Hopper and Joyce flanking him, with a small weaselly looking guy, peering around Joyce.

“Jane!” Hopper cried and ran to her.

She held him close and whispered, “Why didn’t you kill it?”

Hopper chuckled and turned to face Wayne and Joyce. Then he turned back to her. “I’m a good shot, sweetheart, but Wayne is the best and there were just too many people around and I didn’t want to hurt no one.”

El thought about it for a moment. “Thank you.”

Wayne nodded slowly and lowered the rifle.

Everyone filled everyone else in. Mind Flayers were real. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. And by cool he absolutely meant terrifying.

Dustin and Erica offered to show Joyce and Hopper to the Russian base.

Hopper looked down at Dustin with the absolute despair of an adult who knows the answer to the question but absolutely has to ask it anyway.

“Why does it have to be you and Erica and not Steve and the other girl?” he asked after drawing his hands down his face.

“Because Robin, that’s the girl by the way,” Dustin said cheerfully, “were drugged and really don’t remember anything about how we got out.”

Hopper lifted his eyes skyward and put his hands on his hips, pursing his lips. Yup. That was the answer he thought he was going to get.

Murray stepped up. “You can do it through a walkie talkie kid,” and handed him his. “I’m not going to let a couple of eight year olds walk into that mess. Especially now that we know what’s going on.”

“I’m eleven you bald headed freak,” Erica sassed back, hands on her hips.

“Besides,” Dustin said, looking smug as hell, “we know walkie talkies don’t work beyond a certain point so they would be absolutely useless.”

“Yeah,” Erica agreed. “We only went down in the elevator and the walkies wouldn’t work.”

Dustin rubbed his hands together. “What you need is someone who has seen their com room, has a communications tower big enough to get to you below the mall, and knows the way there.”

“Oh wait,” he said with a smug grin. “You have me!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and they both rolled their eyes as Hopper ran his hands over his face again.

“We’ll need a head start,” he said ignoring all the groans around him. “And a car.”

Steve held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, the Russians took my keys.”

Hopper shook his head. “Now that we know it’s Billy, your car would stand out too much.”

“I’ve got my van,” Eddie said, raising his hand.

Hopper scratched his chin. “And do you think that Billy would recognize it?”

Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah...”

“Do I want to know?” Hopper asked with a raised eyebrow.

Max opened her mouth to reply but Eddie cut her off with a hard, “No.”

Hopper looked Eddie up and down and then nodded. “Right, you’ll take the car I ‘borrowed’ instead.”

He tossed the keys to Steve who caught it one handed.

Everyone went their separate ways, with the five of them, Robin, Steve, Eddie, Erica, and Dustin, heading out to find this car.

Steve threw out his arms and sighed. “This is more like it.”

It was a suped up yellow hot rod convertible with the vanity plate of TODFTHR

Robin raised an eyebrow and sneered, “The Todd Father?”

“Steve’s her daddy now,” he purred.

Eddie started laughing. “Honey, we aren’t playing who’s your daddy right now, but we are sooo going to talk about that later.”

“What does that even mean?” Dustin asked, scrunching up his nose.

Eddie grabbed the keys out Steve’s hands.

“You probably have a concussion and at least double vision,” he huffed before Steve could protest, “I’m driving.”

Steve sighed and let him take the keys.

“Back seat, Buckley,” Eddie huffed, sliding into the car as Erica got in and Dustin hopped over the door.

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, sliding next to Erica as Steve hopped into the passenger seat.

~

Part 16

Tag List: THREE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

10- @w1ll0wtr33 @samsoble

[lady-bess]

Miller's Mountainous Adventure Park - A Secret Springs Activity!

Joel Miller x F!Reader Words: 1.8k Mature (references to sex - minors DNI please!) Tags: Joel Miller!Adventure Guide, Rope Climbing, Tree-top Assault Course, Protective!Joel, Flirty!Joel, Shameful Flirting, Joel is an ass-man in my canon, References to Sex, Reader is definitely scared of heights, and Joel fkin knows it, Explicit Language.

My contribution to @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs project! Submitting a short one-shot showcasing our beloved Mr. Miller being a treetop adventure park guide for week four's prompt, 'See, Stay, & Do'. Big thanks to our mayor for giving me this prompt! Enjoy! 🥰

A/N: This was heavily based off a recent trip to a similar adventure park I went to not long ago, in which I sustained rope burns on my arms from going down the zip-line a bit too quickly. I also got stuck in the middle of one of the horizontal lines and was suspended mid-air for a good 20 minutes while a member of staff had to come rescue me. Alas, it was not Joel who turned up...

Miller’s Mountainous Activity Park

“Climbing walls, bungee jumps, and zip lines - Miller’s has it all! Come along for fabulous views, a day of laughs, and fun challenges for all!”

The advert for this place seemed appealing at the time when you booked it. You’d been wanting to challenge yourself to try different things, instead of your usual tendency to resign yourself to your own little bubble of introvertedness. That’s what this whole trip was about, anyway. Booked on a bit of a whim after your recent breakup, you had told yourself that this time you were not going to allow yourself to wallow in self-pity, and instead you’d have fun as a singleton. 

But now, several rounds of activities later, you felt like you were ready to throw in the towel and say fuck new experiences. You were tired, exhausted after an afternoon of group orienteering activities, climbing walls, treetop walkways, and rope courses. Your legs felt like they were about to give way after you’d just climbed your eighth rope ladder in the last hour, and you’d never felt so unfit in your entire life. 

Which was great for your self esteem, as you stood panting at the top of the platform, panting like a dog in heat. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” you whispered to yourself while you caught your breath, but you took relief in the fact that it was almost over. Standing up tall, you were finally at the highest point of the course. From here, you could see out across Secret Springs, and admire the views - the tops of every building, filled with all the independent businesses you’d ventured to throughout your stay here this summer; the rolling hills and stunning views that surrounded the town; and even the mayor’s office, who you understood took great pride in the community they’d built - a pride you felt with them. You knew that the pain from this activity park was fleeting, but the memories you’d gain from being here were forever. 

Part of you never wanted to leave. 

“Y’allright, darlin’?” came a sultry drawl from behind you that made your hair stand on end. You jumped slightly, then turned to meet eyes with the instructor who had been taking you and the rest of your group around the whole park - Joel. 

“Sorry, just admiring the view!” you said, smiling sweetly at him. He nodded, stepping closer to you, holding onto his guidelines and keeping them secure. 

“You sure that’s all it is, doll?” he asked. 

Your eyes danced down to watch him fiddle with the clasps on his safety lines, twisting the caps on one line at a time before re-attaching it to the line you were also fastened to. He coughed subtly when he noticed your wandering gaze and a lack of response. 

“I-uh, yeah! Why?” you asked. 

Joel shrugged, chuckling to himself as he finished detaching his lines from the rope ladder safety guideline and securing himself next to you on the platform. He was now able to get closer, and he approached you slowly, bringing one hand up to rest on your shoulder in a kind of comfort. 

“Just a hunch. I’ve done a lot of these tours - you wouldn’t be the first person to chicken out of doing the final zip wire,” he said, a small grin on his face. 

He clearly loved his job, but he perhaps loved watching how you squirmed underneath him even more. Even in spite of how unfit you felt, and who knows how God awful you looked after hours of physically demanding challenges with a group of people you didn’t know, Joel had kept close to you the entire time. At first you thought it was just because you weren’t here with anyone else, with the rest of your group being made up of couples, or small groups of friends. But the more you’d gone round the course, the more he’d hung back to chat with you; all the while throwing in small physical touches, flirtatious banter, but never overstepping. 

You’d be lying if you said you hated it. In truth, it was rather welcome. 

“Oh! That…,” you trailed off, your eyes now moving to dare look down at the final challenge remaining. You’d been so distracted by the views that you’d completely missed every other person already completing the 200-metre zip wire that stood between you and finishing the course. It was now just you and Joel stood here in the trees, the distant chatter of the rest of the group unbuckling themselves from their harnesses and heading off being just a faint noise. 

“Yes, that,” he chuckled, “Nervous?”.

“A little, I guess. But I’ll be fine! You go ahead, Joel. I’m sure the rest of the group are waiting for your instruction,” you smiled. Joel squeezed your shoulder slightly harder and shook his head, his eyes never faltering. 

“They’ll be fine. My brother is on hand at the bottom to get everyone out. You, darlin’, are my priority,” he said. 

You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was the anxiety of the oncoming zip line, or horniness from that damn pet name he seemed to only use for you, which somehow lit a fire underneath you in a way your ex had never quite managed. Either way, you were nervous. 

“I am?” you stammered. 

“Yeah,” he drawled, “That okay?”.

“Y-yes,” you swallowed, hard. Even if he did just mean from a professional point of view, that he couldn’t legally leave you up here alone, you didn’t feel like that was where he was coming from. 

“Good,” he said. “Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal for ya,” he said, his hand now dropping to the fastening on your harness. His fingers glided over the buckles, tugging them slightly to make sure they were still in their proper place after so much activity. The force moved you ever closer to him, and suddenly you found yourself mere inches from his body. The only thing that snapped you out of the trance of watching Joel, and made you realise he’d asked you something, was the sound of your safety lines clanging together on the guideline above you. 

“How so?” you asked. Joel winked at you. 

“You get your cute butt down that zipline in the next two minutes, and I’ll take ya out for dinner, darlin’,” he chuckled. 

You couldn’t hold back the small giggle as Joel began detaching your safety lines one by one to the main zip wire, taking extra care in making sure that they were attached properly. He’d given everyone a crash course on fastening their own lines before you even started, and everyone had got the hang of it by the time you reached the main course - so this extra attention was definitely not because he didn’t think you could do it. No, he wanted to make sure you were secure himself. 

And something about that was quite arousing. 

“I have a cute butt?” you asked, acting like you weren’t relieved you’d picked the good leggings to do this course the second you’d seen how cute your instructor was. Joel laughed lowly behind you, with you now facing the descending zip-line, him tugging on your lines to make sure you were fastened in properly. 

“Sure, that’s what you focus on,” his words skimmed the shell of your ear, and his strong hands landed on your waist from behind. You sucked in a breath at the closeness, and the feeling of warmth that seeped into your body from his touch. It was a kind of comfort mixed with a desire to say screw dinner, come back to my hotel. 

“Yes, you have a cute butt. But you also have a beautiful smile, a gorgeous laugh, and a personality I’d very much like to get to know a bit better,” he said, his voice now lower and almost a whisper behind you. “Is that alright?”. 

“Joel, I’m only here for another week, and then I’m gone. What’s in it for you?” you asked. 

“Darlin’, I’d like to make your last week here the most memorable. Pay no heed to ‘what’s in it for me’. I wanna spend time with ya, and live in the moment a bit more, starting with taking you out tonight. How does that sound?”.

The smallest bit of guilt crept into you at the thought that Joel was willing to spend the next week with you only to then potentially never see you again. There was a nagging voice in your head that still wanted to say no to him, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about the ‘what ifs’ and what would come after you would leave for home next week. 

But then you remembered why you came here. To push yourself, to live outside your comfort zone - the old you might have insisted on saying no, but you did wonder how many opportunities you’d missed in your life by playing it safe. 

“Okay,” you said, “I’d like that, Joel.”

You turned your head to smile at him, and were greeted with his soft brown eyes firmly on yours. He flashed a cheeky grin back at you, then leant in and quickly gave you a peck on the cheek. The scruff of his facial hair brushed against your soft skin, and it was over far too soon. 

“Good,” he chucked, “Now, off you go!” he said, tapping your ass and pushing your lines down the zip wire, setting you on course for the ground. You screamed and laughed as your body dipped off the platform and you were sent careering down the line at a rate of knots, the wind rushing through your hair and the horizon disappearing behind the treetops as you got closer to the landing platform on the ground. 

You could hear the faint laughter of Joel in the distance as he unclipped his wires and got ready to go down after you once you’d landed, and even while rushing down the line you could feel your cheeks burn as a teenage-like crush began making itself known. It might not be anything, but you wouldn’t know until you tried. 

You crash landed at the bottom of the line, your heels digging into the bark-coated flooring to slow you down, but you still unceremoniously landed on your ass. With nobody around, you let yourself flop down onto your back, still attached to the line, and let out a laugh. Your whole body ached, and you’d now definitely need a shower before going out with Joel tonight. But you didn’t care about that. You were happy. 

And, for the first time, you felt free. 

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[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

An excerpt from my unfortunately likely very belated birthday fic for @wynnyfryd my beloved:

It’s not like there’s a definitive set of tracks that Eddie’s on the wrong side of, but there’s something about being in Loch Nora, driving through the suburbs of these rich-y rich neighborhoods that made his skin crawl. Like he’s wearing a huge neon red sign that says I’m not supposed to be here. But there are a few things he’ll venture out to Doucheville for.

The main one being money.

Okay — the only one being money. But who was he to turn down practically double his normal rates simply because Heather Holloway was too prissy to meet in the woods? Whatever, for that much extra cash he’d throw in home delivery just this once.

Of course, because nothing in Eddie’s life is fair or easy, it backfires. Not in the lack of payday kind of way, he thinks, patting the thick roll of cash newly stuffed into his back pocket. That part had gone just fine. Heather had played her part of the stuck up cheerleader and Eddie the scummy drug dealer and yada yada everybody went home happy.

It backfires more in the almost crashed his van into a tree and died simply because he’s a horny idiot kind of way.

Because the universe apparently decided that Eddie, who’d literally promised himself that he was no longer going to be an obsessed freakazoid over Steve goddamn Harrington, must be tested, must truly suffer. Why else would right now be the exact moment in time he drives past the guy while he's clearly on a run and sporting a pair of nearly indecent length running shorts coupled with a — jesus h. christ — a Hawkins High Marching Band t-shirt cut into a crop top revealing a gloriously thick treasure trail. And muscles. So many muscles.

The universe clearly wanted Eddie to die.

And now Eddie has to sit here, rubbing awkwardly at the bruise he definitely feels blooming on his forehead from the unfortunate whack it’s taken against his steering wheel. Because, as mentioned — idiot. He has to sit here while Steve fucking Harrington peers into his open window with this unfathomably sweet look of concern on his stupid angelic face that makes Eddie, for a moment, kinda wish he was dead. Especially because his brain decides, “There was a squirrel!” is the best thing to blurt out when Steve asks if he’s okay. The hasty, “I mean, I’m fine,” Eddie adds after definitely helps sell it a lot. He can tell by the way Steve’s brow is all furrowed in a stupidly cute stupid way.

“I dunno, man,” Steve says (and Eddie definitely does not stare as he watches a single bead of sweat drip down the slope of Steve’s throat, over those pair of freckles Eddie absolutely hasn't thought about sinking his teeth into), "I kind of have a lot of experience with head injuries and that looked like it hurt. Are you sure –"

"Why do you care?"

Steve's worried expression crumples into something steely that just makes Eddie feel like even more of a dick than he knows he's already being. "I just know how shitty concussions can be, sorry for worrying about you, I guess --"

Fuck. Eddie sighs. It would be so much easier if Steve was the jerk Eddie'd always thought he was instead of what he's really turning out to be, which is such a fucking sweetheart that Eddie can't help but want to do a lot of really, really not sweet things to him. "Shit, no -- I'm being an asshole. Maybe chalk it up to that possible head trauma you're worried about?"

Steve is quiet for a moment, but then that look of cool detachment disappears, and he smiles, all gleaming white teeth, and it feels like watching the fucking sun splitting through storm clouds or some shit. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie blinks and sees that Harrington's got his middle finger up, flipping him the bird with such a smug little smirk on that pretty face that Eddie can't help it. He laughs. "Cute."

"You really think so?" Maybe it's the heat. That's gotta be it, Eddie thinks, watching how Steve's cheeks flush, watches as it spreads down past his throat, past those tufts of chest hair poking up teasingly past the stretched out collar of his borrowed t shirt.

The t-shirt Steve had so clearly borrowed from Robin. Robin, who was supposedly Harrington's girlfriend. The image of Robin from earlier in the cafeteria that day wearing Steve’s letterman jacket flashes across his mind and he has to bite him own tongue to stop himself from wincing.

Eddie's gonna throw up. Maybe he does have a concussion after all.

[toomanytookas]

The Gift

Dieter Bravo x f!afab!reader

Rating: 18+ only please

Summary: Dieter designs a special room for you in the house that you are building together.

Important note: This is set in the world of @schnarfer’s If Wishes Came True trilogy. If you haven’t read it (where have you been? Go! Read it!!) you will likely be a bit lost.

Word count: ~3k

Content: Angst and fluff, the angst is pretty much all in the past but we do sit with it for a while here (this is dedicated to Al, after all), consumption of food and alcohol, references to/presence of drugs but they aren’t consumed on screen, oblique references to the reader and Dieter's sexual proclivities, blink and you’ll miss it moment of smutty touching, lots more sensual and casual touch as well as kissing, swearing, bathing, cats, I wrote this for one person but she’s invited you to the party

A/N: A version of this fic was gifted to my beloved @schnarfer on the occasion of her birthday last week. It would have never actually been possible for me to have the confidence to send it to her and not just throw it straight in the bin without the very gentle hand holding of @pascalssbabyy (Beth, you are an angel).

I say a version because after being the most gracious recipient of a fic of her fic (wtf was I thinking?), Al not only encouraged me to share it more widely but was willing to give it a beta and helped to refine my attempt at an ode to her style into the much punchier, emotionally charged (we do love torturing our boy a bit...) thing you now have the opportunity to read. This is absolutely the product of two minds and I could not have had more fun working with her to reach this final version. Any remaining errors and weird bits are my own, feel free to lmk if you see anything funky. I hope you like it!

I don't know what it is about you that makes the bathwater blush, why I want to ask for your hand forever around my throat;

- Megan Falley, "Your Bathwater > Wine"

When Dieter adopted Chairman Meow from the shelter, the sign on the tom’s cage said he had been wandering despondently around the property his last owner had vacated, unable to stray far from the place where he had last known a comfortable life. Abandonment issues, the profile warned. Looking for a home that will provide constant affection.

Having been driven to the cattery by a deep yearning to be the centre of someone’s world, Dieter thought he recognised a kindred spirit. I’ll be your friend, bud. He stuck a thick finger into the mog’s enclosure and wiggled it against the soft fur. When the cat had budged up even closer in response, he knew that it was love.

After you left, when he would wake to that furry face rubbing against his chin, a paw tapping his cheek to ask to be let in under the covers, Dieter was grateful that he had someone who understood why—despite Pete’s encouragement—he could never quite go through with leaving that fucking fishbowl of a house for good. Not when he no longer had you.

The wretched, destructive thing that lived inside him conjured constant reminders of how your brightness had seeped into the very walls of the house. It dangled flashes of your smile in his periphery when he made his morning coffee, replayed echoes of your laugh when he reached for you in the middle of the night. They were glimpses of lost happiness that in those brief moments still radiated joy. The glow sometimes burned like hot coals, but he gathered every memory of you tightly his chest. The searing ache was worth it. Staying put was worth it. How else would he remember so clearly how much you had made his world come alive? And how else would you know how to find him when you decided to come back?

But when you did return to him, when you came home, Dieter’s dedication to remaining in that bastard house until his end of days vanished. He was climbing the walls to be rid of it as fast as humanly possible. Why would he want to stay there when it was a constant reminder of the destruction he had wrought? Without you the house was a lifeline, but with you it was a curse. It could never be the home he wanted to give you now that he had a second chance. Despite what his trusted energy worker suggested, a ceremonial disposal of the bed and a few rounds of sage burning would not have been enough to fix it.

So he called his realtor. Sold the house. Said goodbye to all its awful energy. Hoped that maybe all the worst versions of Dieter Bravo managed to be left there, trapped behind the glass. Waiting to be discovered and dealt with by whichever sad fuck bought that Hollywood house of mirrors, blissfully unaware of the demons they were to inherit.

The Dieter menagerie moved in to yours.

The Chairman and Dolly Purrton both quickly found their favourite new spots to snooze in puddles of sunshine, but as much as he longed to join them, Dieter could never quite settle.

The longer you shared the space and began to rebuild some of the trust and respect that needed to layer on top of your burning, incandescent love; the clearer it became that your house was also too haunted.

There was too bitter an aftertaste on both your tongues whenever you would pull into the drive, remembering the pleading eyes of past Dieters who had turned up unannounced at all hours of the night begging for forgiveness, desperate for a second chance. It was too jarring, the pangs of Dieter’s jealousy over plastic, perfect Brandon, who once upon a time happily wandered those halls, pressed you hungrily against those doorframes, laughed with you over a lovingly prepared dinner made in that kitchen. What a fucking prince.

The discomfort of it all, the continued haunting that he had thought escaping his former house would resolve, left Dieter lumbering through the house, wrapping himself in a moveable den of blankets and keeping a hand braced against his tummy or a cat cradled to his chest in an effort to soothe the roiling thoughts.

After he spent a full week between shoots wandering despondently from room to room, only able to feel grounded when you were somewhere in the house, you put your foot down.

This was meant to be a second chance, D. Not us climbing back into the coffin. This house was no longer your home, you told him, if it was responsible for the tension in his jaw and the ache you felt when either of you found reminders of all the past hurt.

And so Dieter set out to build you both a house. A home that would reverberate with the joys of love and the laughter of friends, and never, ever know the monster inside him that he was working so hard to put to rest. A sanctuary for the two of you, tucked against the hills in an area where the neighbours don’t care a single bit who either of you are, only that you look out for the community and pitch in a baked good or two for the annual block party.

It’s the house of your dreams because it represents your shared commitment to making a life together. It’s the house of his dreams because, somehow, you want to live there with him.

Given a blank check, the architect and interior designer work with the two of you to identify the exact touches that will make you feel beyond comfortable. The kind of upgrades that aren’t flashy, but make enjoying the pleasurable things in life even easier.

The new bed feels like you’re being cuddled by the softest clouds. You spend your free mornings tucked in under the covers together, letting him sneak peeks over your shoulder as you gleefully trade quips with your friends and read the naughtiest and most delicious smut before rising to start your day.

There’s a gas fireplace that can be lit at a moment’s notice when you want to curl up in one of the the divine plush chairs, which you picked out together after spending an afternoon in a high-end showroom, half focused on which were the most comfortable to read in, half on which could reliably sustain both of your weights in motion.

These are just a couple of your favourite things amidst a near embarrassment of riches. They make you feel as though you’ve won the lottery, and the lottery’s name was Dieter (just Dieter, your dear love Dieter, no Bravo in sight).

Picking out features and facets for the house was so much a shared project between the two of you—the thing you could work on through trading pinterest boards and voice notes, even when projects kept you physically apart—that it was a bit of a surprise when Dieter informed you that there was a room he wanted to build that he wasn’t going to share the details of. Not until it was done.

He took infinite pleasure in making a big show of the secret, whipping out a blindfold that may or may not have originated from your toy chest when you were set to do walkthroughs during construction, curling his broad body around you and nudging you forward with one foot and then the other until the room was far enough away from view that he could restore your sight without worry of ruining the surprise.

It’s going to be magnificent, angel, he would breathe gleefully against your ear.

The contractors were always thankfully far enough ahead of you that you didn’t feel embarrassed by the heat that flooded your face at the tickle of his words and the firmness of his chest against your back.

You had some sense of what the room might be. Dieter wouldn’t reject your idea for a vintage-inspired clawfoot tub in the master unless he was going to make it up to you somewhere else in the house. He knew how much of a comfort a soak in the bath was for you, there was no way he was going to deny you the luxury in your own home.

But what exactly this room looked like remained a mystery. Sometimes a package would arrive that he would eagerly squirrel away behind that closed door, disappearing for a while to set up whatever newest addition he had imagined on the road to perfection. Piece by piece, Dieter was building a dream, one that he specifically dreamed of for you.

In the meantime, the two of you moved into the house and set about truly making it your space, fit to burst with the vibrancy of your lives.

There was nothing like being able to wind down from the heights of the energy on set, the frenetic hustle that you loved so much but demanded that you be at a constant eleven.

Nothing like ending a chillier evening by the fire. Your feet tucked under the fluff of the Chairman’s rotund rump where it was perched on Dieter’s lap, your thumb idly tracing the drops of condensation on a bottle of cider.

Nothing like welcoming friends at the weekend for a hearty roast and glowing conversation, getting to show off the fruits of your beautiful gas range and indulge in the delight of warm bellies and full hearts.

Nothing like your Dieter, flush with a new aura of happiness and love and the therapy-influenced acceptance that he was allowed to have all of this, to have you, to know joy.

On the night of your birthday, when your body and head already feel floaty from a delightful evening featuring a steady flow of cocktails and sushi, Dieter sneaks away as you are bidding goodbye to your final guests.

Once the last of your friends are out the door, he places a pair of oversized scissors in your hands and herds you like an eager collie over to the soon-to-no-longer-be-secret room. There’s a velvety ribbon across the door and he has you make the ceremonial opening cut before placing one of his warm palms over your eyes and the other at your sternum, holding you to his chest and guiding you both over the threshold.

You feel a wall of steam envelop your body and your heart leaps with anticipation. Your bathtub. You were right.

Dieter removes his hand, “Open your eyes, angel.”

Immediately, your vision is flooded with ochre and gold. Candles flicker playfully on almost every possible surface, their dancing light filling the room.

It is clear to you right away that this oasis will become a peaceful near holy space, a sanctuary that you can retreat to when you need to shut out the rest of the world. Despite the many, many acts of sin that are bound to occur inside these four walls, there is something bright and pure about the energy that Dieter has curated.

Lush ferns and orchids are mounted to the walls, bound to flourish in the tropical climate that the frequent steam will create for them.

There are massive geodes of your favourite crystals that sparkle on pedestals, radiating deep energy and glistening in the candlelight.

Two skylights open the room up so you can see the heavens, as though from your watery cocoon you might be able to ascend to the stars.

The bath itself is cavernous, currently filled nearly to the brim and softly crackling with lush bubbles that are being stirred by what you assume must be underwater jets.

On the far wall, Dieter has painted an abstract mural that makes you think of the moments of calm that you feel when he wraps you in his arms after a long day. Soft, warm, safe.

As he follows your gaze, eager to ingest your every reaction, he directs you to look at the title that he’s lettered just next to his signature.

Angel’s rest.

Your eyes are misty, “Oh, D. It’s magic.”

“Everything for my girl. Everything.”

His voice cracks slightly through the whisper, his hands come to your waist to turn you in his embrace, strong eye contact boring into your soul with the depth of how very much he means those words, beyond this gift, beyond this house.

You have to kiss him. Your heart can’t take not fusing your mouth to his in this moment.

It’s a soft kiss, a tender kiss, one you could bask in from now until the end of time. It makes you so bright with love.

You can’t help but let your lips curve into a grin. You think he must be able to feel your cheek muscles twitch from how widely you are smiling against his lips.

He breaks from you, but immediately returns once, twice, and then presses a quick and cheeky peck against your jawline.

“Come, angel. Before the water gets too cold.”

Slowly, reverently, he helps you slide your sparkling birthday dress over your shoulders and down to the floor. Pressing gentle, open mouthed kisses to your collarbone and lace-covered breasts as each inch of you is revealed.

He kneels before you to remove your panties. As soon as they are at your knees, he nuzzles his face against your mound, the tip of his nose nestling against your clit.

Fuck.

You hear him exhale happily when your stance softens, hands ghosting up and down your thighs, but instead of taking his first taste of your cunt for the evening, he draws back and tips his head toward the bath.

Pouting, you nod and let him help you out of your slippers, large hand cupping each ankle in turn. When your bare feet touch the floor, you can tell that there is some sort of heating system beneath the tile. It’s heaven.

You grasp his forearm for balance as you ascend the steps and then slide into the steaming hot water of the bath. You let your grip linger, playing with the flexing muscle that you feel ripple as he wiggles his fingers playfully. He knows you're a bit loony for the feel of his powerful arms.

Then he's pulling away from you again.

Despite the near-trance the water and this moment is sending you into, you let out a soft squawk of disapproval.

"Just for a minute, angel. I want to go get your present."

More gifts? Well, an indulgent Dieter is often the happiest Dieter and it is your birthday. And Dieter firmly believes that birthday girls deserve to have some lovely treats.

You let yourself doze, still tipsy and buzzing from the joys of the night, cradled by the bubbles and the soothing warmth of the water. The next thing you know, gentle but thick fingertips are lightly dragging their way from your knee to your hip and then up the flesh of your stomach, a mild and delicious friction. Before those fingers can reach the swell of your breast, your hands come up to halt their journey. Intertwining your fingers with his, you bring Dieter’s now somewhat bubble-covered hand up for a kiss, avoiding the worst of the soapy aftertaste by pressing your lips high on his pulse point.

When you make eye contact, his gaze still looks wild with love.

"Relaxed, angel?"

"Ever so."

You look over at him and find he's set a tray down on a bar cart that has appeared from somewhere in the room. On it, a box of four pralines from your favourite chocolatier, a chilled bottle of champagne, and a joint resting on the edge of a beautiful glass ashtray. It must be new because its colours are too perfect to not have been picked out lovingly by Dieter to match the room.

You sit up slightly. Happy birthday to you, indeed.

"May I join you?" The reverence in his voice feels it’s been magnified by the room.

"We've talked about this, baby. Water makes for horrible lube."

"I just want to cuddle with my birthday girl."

This Dieter, so tender, so vulnerably in love in a way that he never let himself be before you. You sense in this moment that he truly feels he needs permission to be allowed to just be in your space for a while, a hesitance fueled by past regrets and insecurities that even the promise and protection of this new house have not fully squashed. No matter. You are more than happy to affirm just how welcome in your arms he will always be.

You smile, nodding sleepily, and he sheds his clothing. You're so relaxed, so enveloped in warmth, that you almost forget to admire his bare body as he climbs in to join you. Almost. Thank goodness the part of your brain that always wants him, is always drawn to his form, isn't actually taking a holiday so you can admire.

When he's settled with his back against the side of the bath, Dieter pulls the cart over so that everything is in reach. He pops the champagne, handing you a glass, then brings one of the chocolates to his mouth, holding it in his teeth and wriggling his eyebrows playfully in a suggestion for you to take it from him.

You giggle and indulge him, using your hands to grip the edge tub on either side of his body and pull yourself through the water until you are practically chest to chest, nose to nose. Too close for true eye contact, but you can't help but pick one of his eyes to focus on, letting yourself go a bit crosseyed to try and send him every wonderful thing you have been feeling this evening directly through your gaze.

Slowly, gently, you close the remaining distance and bite the praline in half, letting your lips drag against his as the chocolate begins to melt on your tongue. It's perfectly bitter and smooth.

Dieter consumes the rest.

"Mmm. A not too sweet for my not too sweet."

The snort that leaves your body firmly disrupts the headiness of the moment, the exhalation forming a crater in the bubbles and making you further devolve into giggles when you have to bring a hand up to brush away a clump of the soapy fuzz that sticks to his cheek.

You press your forehead against Dieter's damp shoulder and feel the rise and fall of it as he joins you in mirth, arm coming up around you so you don't slide away from him as you once again relax into the water.

As the wave of laughter subsides, your breathing synchronizes with his and you let yourself soak in the quiet. A perfect christening of this tub. He presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"I love you, angel. Happy birthday."

[americas1suiteheart]

Better Off As Lovers

Patrick Stump x Reader

This was also posted on Ao3 if you prefer that platform, this whole text is the link. :)

[

Summary; You and Patrick have been friends since middle school and have been going to tours with him and the band to watch their shows. At one of the shows, Patrick decides to play one unreleased song he just so happened to write for you to confess his feelings. (I dunno this is kinda the summary but I'm also dumb as shit and can't make a correct summary).

Notes; I felt like writing a little something for him as I've been wanting to for a while now, and here it is! And honestly, guys, if I end up wring more Patrick x Reader fics they're all most likely to be song fics or fics based off of some of the music videos, sorry but man I'm a sucker for song fics.

Warnings; Some cursing and some bickering back and forth between Pete and Y/n over stupid stuff. Really really cheesy and unrealistic ig. Also Y/n is kind of really fucking stupid as well, but for the sake of the fic.

Word Count: 4,068 (This is literally the longest fic I've ever written oh my gods.)

<Playing- Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy>

1:32 ────ㅇ────── 3:31

God, why are these tour bus seats so uncomfortable? You'd figure that because they were meant for people to sleep in, they would be more comfortable.

You get up and stretch, heading to the cupboard where the band keeps all of the snacks to look for your hidden stash in the back.

"Where the hell are they?" You say, muttering to yourself.

You continue to scrounge through the cabinet to try and find your two twin packs of Twinkies, only to give up and walk to where the boys were hanging out.

"Hey, did any of you guys eat my Twinkies?" You call out as you walk to where you can hear the boys talking; a curtain was the only thing acting as a door for the area.

Just as you open the curtain to the "room" (aka the six loft beds that were separated by just a curtain), you see Pete and Joe munching on your beloved creme-filled cakes.

"Are you kidding me?" You say, your mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

"I told you guys so."

The two boys look at each other and then at you, a twinge of fear apparent on their faces, the creme filling on the corners of their mouths, and the wrappers thrown onto the floor.

"You two so totally owe me two boxes of Twinkies, I mean it! One box from each of you two! How did you find them?! I hid them!" You flail your arms about towards the boys, the guilt becoming more apparent on Joe's face.

Pete and Joe shuffle in their spots, licking their fingers and corners of their mouths to get the creme off from their messy way of eating.

"Honestly, you're kinda bad at hiding stuff; it wasn't that hard to find them," Pete says with a shrug.

Patrick kicks his shin from where he was sitting from across, earning a hiss of pain and a dirty look from Peter.

"I'm gonna eat all of your fucking Blow-Pops." You say, leaving the sleeping area and heading back to the snack cupboard. You can hear Pete's shouts, telling you not to touch them.

Opening the cupboard, you immediately spot a party-size pack of Blow-Pops with a large piece of duct tape stuck on to the bag, big bold letters drawn with a black Sharpie reading 'PETE'S LOLLIPOPS!!! DON'T TOUCH!!!'

Pete really liked those things, and he would individually count them to keep track of how many he had, so that way, if someone decided to take one or two of them, he would know. Which is kind of insane of him now that you think about it. Actually, scratch that, Pete was insane—PERIOD!

You grab the bag and grab three handfuls of lollipops, shoving them into your hoodie pockets and putting the bag back into the cupboard.

"Give them back, Y/n!" Pete says, grabbing your shoulders just enough to keep you from moving.

"Hell no! Buy me back my Twinkies and then I might just give you all of them back." You say putting one hand into your pocket to take out a Blow-Pop.

"Those Twinkies were practically begging to be eaten by someone, man; come on, those were in there for days without being touched."

You unwrap the lollipop, pulling your hand up to pop it into your mouth, Pete's mouth falling agape as you do so.

"Was that one of the apple ones..."

You nod your head, taking it out of your mouth. "And I've still got more. And as I said, I'm not giving them back until you buy me back, my Twinkies,"

"God, fine! But promise not to eat anymore until we get to a gas station! Especially not the Apple ones!"

"Will do," You pop the Blow-Pop back into your mouth as he lets go of your shoulders, looking defeated as he walks back to the room all of the others were still in.

You smile to yourself, sitting back into the seat you were originally in.

------------------------------

You and the boys get out of the bus, heading into the gas station as the drivers fuel up. You immediately head for the drink section, looking for a can of Arizona tea.

What the hell man, where are they?

You continue to look for another minute or so until you finally give up, heading to the soda section where Patrick was.

You had somewhat of a crush on Patrick. You always have to be honest.

You went to high school with Patrick, so you've known him since sophomore year. You had a lot of classes with him too and often hung out with each other both inside and outside of school, making you closer to Patrick than you were to any of the other kids and considering him your best friend.

When he first started playing with Joe and Pete and officially being in a band with them, you started going over to practices with him, getting to know the two better, and when Andy joined the band, it was the same with him.

Now that you think about it, you have no clue how liking him could have been avoided. He's sweet and smart—a little awkward at times too, but nonetheless an incredible guy.

I mean, the whole reason why you started looking into learning some music technology was so that you could be with him more often. A lot of what you started doing was to get to hang out with him more often.

"Boo!" You say, grabbing Patrick's arm gently.

"N/n, there you are," Patrick says, turning around to look at you, holding out two cans of Arizona tea to you.

"What the hell, I just spent like, two minutes looking for these; where the heck did you find them?" You chuckle, taking one of the cans.

"I'll never tell.." Patrick chuckles, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, thank you Patrick. I appreciate your kind gesture very much."

Andy and Joe run by you and Patrick, with Pete doing the same shortly afterwards. Some screams and laughs came with that as well. You could see the cashier trying their best to make it through all the noise, with a look on their face that could only be explained as exhaustion and frustration, clearly not wanting to be at work.

You look at Patrick and sigh, knowing that you'll have to yell at the three once again as if they were children, regardless of the fact they were all older than you and Patrick.

You walk to the snack aisle, where you can see Joe and Andy crouching down, assumingly hiding from Pete for whatever reason, and walk up behind them. Andy had a bag of skittles in his hand and a sprite in the other, while Joe carried a twin pack of Twinkies—just as you asked him for—and a bag of chips and diet coke in his arms.

"What are we hiding from?" You whisper to the two, who jump slightly and look back in response.

"Pete," Andy replies quietly.

"Well, we've gotta go; you guys will have to finish this up some other time, preferably when we aren't in a public place."

You hear footsteps from behind and stand up, turning around to see Pete walking slowly, putting a finger up to his lips as to say "don't say anything," and you shake your head and mouth, "No."

"Come on guys, go check out we need to get back on the road," you say, turning back to Andy and Joe.

Pete groans and fully stands up, Andy and Joe doing the same.

"God, you're such a grump all the time, no fun," Pete says, walking up to the cashier.

Patrick comes up from behind you, putting his hand on your back. "Is everyone ready to go?"

You blush from the contact, nodding your head in response, and walk to the register where the boys were checking out.

"No, I paid the last time. It's Andy's turn to pay now, remember?" Pete argues. The cashier looked like he was about to snap; if it was a cartoon, steam would probably be coming out of his ears right now.

"I'll pay, fine dude, just chill out," Andy says, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier his credit card.

The cashier puts their items into a plastic bag, and Andy grabs it and leaves with the other two.

You and Patrick walk to the register, putting your items down on the counter.

"Sorry about them by the way, they get rowdy sometimes," Patrick says, attempting to break the awkwardness by making small talk, leading it to get worse.

"Your total is $9.34," the cashier says with a deadpan look on his face.

The two of you pull out your cards and look at each other. "Let me pay for it, please; you had paid the last time, and it was almost 20 dollars," Patrick says with puppy eyes.

God, this guy always knows how to get his way with that look.

"Alright then, Pat. Thank you," You thank him, putting your card away.

Patrick pays and the cashier puts our stuff into a plastic bag, handing it to him, with him thanking the guy and telling him to have a good day.

You two walk back into the bus, and Patrick places the bag on the couch in the lounge.

"Do you want both of these in the mini fridge?" Patrick asks, taking one of the tea cans out of the bag.

"I'll have one now and save the other for later, if you can put one in though, that'd be awesome."

Patrick nods and puts one can and one of his sodas in the mini fridge plugged in next to the counter where the broken toaster sat. Now that you think about it, how long has that thing been broken? Why haven't any of us bothered to replace it?

You open one of the cans, walking into the bunk area, and sit on your bunk at the top, letting your feet dangle above the middle bunk.

"Y/n, here you go," Joe says, handing me two twin packs of Twinkies.

"Thanks, Joe. Here are your Blow-Pops back dickhead," you say, taking the wrapped cakes and taking all of the blow pops out of your pocket, handing them to Pete, who was sitting next to Joe.

"Jesus, dude, how many of my fucking Blow-Pops did you take?" Pete exclaims.

"A couple handfuls, I think," you reply, taking a drink of your tea.

-----------------------------

"Alright guys, we've got a couple more songs to play; are you ready?" Pete shouts into his mic, earning cheers from throughout the crowd.

The boys continue playing a couple more songs.

The band had been playing for an hour and a half now, playing some of their newer songs from the newest album they were working on, those of which you had the pleasure of getting to listen to before they played them for others, as well as songs from Take This To Your Grave and From Under The Cork Tree. The crowd was singing the lyrics along with the band, enjoying all of it.

"This is the last song for tonight and is another one from the album that we're currently working on; this one me and Patrick worked on together is called Bang The Doldrums!" Pete says, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead.

Patrick adjusts the strap of his guitar slightly, walking up to the mic. Him and Joe begin to play together, with the rest of the band joining in.

You listen to it for a bit, you hadn't recognised the name but you figured that they had probably changed it.

'I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out,'

What the hell? I haven't heard this one yet.

'I couldn't bring myself to call, except to call it quits,'

This is great; why hadn't they shown me this one? They all sound amazing.

Patrick looks at me as he sings the next verse; his face tinted a slight red, maybe from how out of breath he was getting? God, he always looked so pretty like that.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You listen to the lyrics; why did he look at me like that in that exact verse? Maybe I'm just going crazy.

'Racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow-checkered cars,'

You continued to listen, enjoying the sound of the way they were playing.

Then once again, Patrick looks at you, looking less nervous and giving a slight smile as he sings the same verse.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You can feel your face rapidly becoming warm, oh?

You think for a bit, your mouth slightly agape as you stand still. You just hope what you think is happening and what he's implying is actually what it is. No, no way. You guys have just been friends since high school; there's no way.

'..in the back of yellow-checkered cars. You're wrong, are we all wrong?

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers!'

The song ends, and the band thanks the crowd before exiting the stage, allowing the stage technicians to begin striking and taking everything down.

You were still standing there as the crowd began to clear out. Shit, you should get to the boys. What do I do about how Patrick looked at me? What if I ask him about it and I'm totally wrong? Oh god, I'm screwed.

You begin to head to the door that lead to the backstage lounge, a security guard protecting it from letting anyone else in. The guard immediately notices you and lets you in.

You nervously walk to the same area that the boys were in, knocking on the door and hearing Joe shout, "Come in!"

You open the door and smile at the boys, who were sitting down, drinking water and using towels to dry themselves off.

Where's Pat?

"Hey guys! You sounded awesome tonight, what was with that last song though? I'd never heard it before." You greet, sitting down on one of the metal pull-out chairs across from everyone else.

"Thanks! We were going to show you Bang The Doldrums when we were first working on it, but about halfway through writing it Patrick had said something about waiting to play it at a gig instead, something about surprising you, I dunno," Pete says in response, taking a chug of his water bottle.

"Where is Patrick, by the way?" You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

"I think he went to go and look for you actually; try ringing him or go and look for him; he's somewhere around here," Andy says.

"Shit really? I'll go try to find him now. Do you guys need anything that could be outside of this room?"

"Can you get us some more water? I'm still totally parched man," Pete asks, taking the towel he had on his shoulder to wipe his face off.

You nod and get up, leaving the room and closing the door to go and look for Patrick.

How on earth do you know where every place in this theater would be? This place is huge..

After searching around, you finally decide to go outside to check if he was in the tour bus by chance, only to see him sitting on a curb next to the door hidden from all of the different fans still exiting the venue.

"Pat? What're you doin' out here without a sweater on? It's freezing right now." You speak out, walking to where he was and sitting to the left of him.

"Oh, I went to look for you, and when I came out here, it was way cooler than it was in the theater, so I stayed out here to cool off a little bit," Patrick says, straightening his back and looking at you.

You nod in a way of understanding.

"How'd you like the show, though?" Patrick says, after a few seconds of silence.

"It was great! You guys never have a boring gig; everyone was loving it. What was the last song about though? I had never heard you guys play it up until just now." You say excitedly.

Patrick shifts slightly, looking away from you as his face flushes, now looking slightly embarrassed.

"I mean, it's not that it sounded bad or anything; it sounded great, but, during that chorus, you kept looking at me and, well," You say awkwardly, avoiding saying what you actually wanted to say.

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds before Patrick broke it.

"Sorry about that, I don't know if it made you weirded out or anything." Patrick says quietly.

"'Weirded out?' Pat I don't think you can really do anything to weird me out honestly. I didn't mind the contact all that much really." You lightly laugh, quietly mumbling the last part.

After saying that, you notice Patrick relax a bit, as if he were relieved and a little bit of a weight was off his shoulders.

"Y/n, can I tell you something?" Patrick says looking down at his shoes, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, of course," You reply, anxious for his words, yet somehow excited at the same time, wondering what they might be.

"This is going to sound so stupid, gosh. Um," Patrick chuckles, trying to calm his nerves as he twiddles his thumbs together, then proceeding with what he was saying. "I uh, would you hate me if I said that I really liked you, and not in a friend sort of way but um,"

You stay quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. You're glad that it was dim in the little corner you two were sitting at so that he wouldn't see how red your face was turning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi-" Patrick apologises before getting cut off by you.

"Patrick, don't be sorry," You say.

Patrick furrows his brows, creasing his forehead slightly, turning to look at you with confusion clear on his face.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I've waited for you to say something along the lines of that," You continue, grinning widely.

Patrick's face softened, a small smile appearing onto his face.

"So, does that mean that, well, you know," He says, looking at some cracks in the concrete, kicking at a pebble aside.

"Yeah, it means exactly that, Trick," You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back.

He looks back at you, smiling, his eyes that you looked into so often seemed to shine brighter underneath the dim light that the venue had over the door in the back that barely showed any light where you two were sitting.

Patrick brings a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch, doing the same as he did.

His eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, quickly returning to your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" Patrick asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod your head and lean in as he does, fluttering your eyes closed.

Patrick closes the gap between the both of you, his breath warm. The kiss is soft and sweet, not pressed too hard against each other but still with passion. Your lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, as if they were made specifically for the both of you and just the both of you alone.

You two pull away, pressing your foreheads together, panting ever so slightly from the lack of oxygen the both of you got during the kiss.

There was a peaceful silence for a few seconds, you swear that if it weren't for the muffled music and talking of the crowd outside Patrick would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"God, if I knew this would be the outcome I would've told you years ago," Patrick chuckles lightly.

You smile, now realizing that this wasn't a dream and that your best friend since high school really confessed what you dreamed he would for years now. That you two really kissed and it wasn't some guy that you pretended to love in hopes of letting your feelings for Patrick disappear, and you were so glad that your mind and heart didn't let that happen.

"Oh my god finally, you two are idiots," Pete says, standing on the steps that lead to the door to get backstage.

You and Patrick quickly pull away from each other, your face burning up quickly.

"What the hell do you mean 'finally'?" You say, looking at Pete in confusion.

"We've been waiting for you two idiots to finally say something to each other for years now,"

You look at Pete for a few seconds, the cogs in your head turning.

"What?"

"I mean, you two were so painfully obvious, I'm honestly surprised that you two didn't figure it out way earlier man. Oh! Wait, wait, who confessed first? Was it you Y/n?"

Joe and Andy walk out and stand next to Pete.

"Did it finally happen? Who said it first, do you know?" Joe asks.

You and Patrick stare at each other, completely baffled.

"Was it Patrick?" Andy asks.

You flush even more, looking back at the three, then quickly looking away.

"It was totally Patrick, I called it! Come on pay up you two,"

Joe and Pete groan, taking out their wallets.

"Did you guys place bets on us?" Patrick asks, getting completely ignored by them.

"How much was it again, I don't remember it's been like 5 years now," Pete asks, looking at Andy.

"I think it was either ten or twenty,"

"Can we just say it was ten? I don't have a twenty or two tens on me and I don't want to go to the ATM tomorrow morning." Joe says, rummaging through his wallet.

"Sure that works," Pete and Joe both hand Andy one ten dollar bill each.

"What the hell, was Andy the only one that thought I would confess?" Patrick says. He seemed more upset at the fact that Pete and Joe put their bets on you confessing first rather than him.

"Come inside, it's freezing out here and we still haven't gotten our waters yet," Pete says, holding the door open for Andy and Joe.

You get up and gesture for Patrick to do the same, walking to the doorway.

"I fucking hate you and I hope you know that," You whisper to Pete jokingly, proceeding inside with Patrick and Pete behind you.

"Love you too N/n.." Pete says sarcastically, walking to the table where a load of plastic water bottles were, grabbing three of them.

"I hate him," You say, looking at Pete walk away and disappear into the room the three were in before.

"Me too sometimes but honestly if it weren't for him I probably would have never said anything," Patrick looks at you.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that organized the whole plan of playing Bang The Doldrums and not showing it to you until earlier during the show," Patrick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Huh, he told me you said something about not showing me until now. You know, maybe I don't hate him as much anymore now."

Patrick laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the table, grabbing two bottles for himself and you.

You smile to yourself, looking at your entangled hands then at him as he walked you to the room the boys were in.

You couldn't have been happier in all the years of your life up until now, and you wouldn't change or trade it for anything in the world. You were happy that you finally got to be like this with Patrick, the boy that was always so nice to everyone no matter what, the boy that knew exactly what to say if anyone was ever down, the boy that never left you no matter how difficult or bad it got.

This was the boy that you fell in love with since the moment you saw him, and he loved you back.

3:13 ─────────ㅇ─ 3:31

This took me forever to finish, and thank gods that I hyper fixated on FOB again (more than many times throughout the making of this fic,) because if not it wouldn't have ever gotten finished. I think I might end up writing more fics for Patrick, let me know if you would like for that to happen, send in some requests if you would like as well! Thank you for reading this seriously, regardless if your new or if you've been a follower since I started posting my fics on here, I appreciate you all for continuing to read my stuff because it makes me truly feel like I'm getting better and that people enjoy my stuff.

[rtfics]

Seeing BJ2 the 3rd time.

LONG & FILLED WITH SPOILERS

SO much to think about, and my memory is shit.

I rapidly scribbled notes during the film. But when I got home and tried to read them:

So here's an overview. I'll post other details if I ever translate my notes.

First, the casting was perfection. I'd never seen Jenny Ortega, Justin Theroux, and Monica Bellucci before, so for me they were the characters.

It was interesting that the film opens with the Warner Brothers Studio lot in black & white. Why B&W? It sort of sets the tone.

Donna Summer singing lines from "MacArthur's Park" was a foreshadowing. This film was made by a guy who was a teen in the 70s, and it's for others his age (he's only 2 years older than me). BJ2 is packed with 70s nostalgia that only those who were alive then would get.

This sequel was also made for die-hard fans of the original Beetlejuice. Burton took special care to give us the Winter River we love, but updated it to show the story and its characters aren't stuck in the past. The covered bridge is there, the church, cemetery, Miss Shannon's, and fire station are there, and so is the Maitland's building, but it's a coffee shop now.

Seeing Lydia as shell-shocked and pill-popping threw me, but the plot gave it sense (I'll go into detail in a separate post).

Rory, OMFG, I've known Rory. Anyone who's had anything to do with the entertainment/media biz, even peripherally, knows Rory. His "enabler" bullshit was so spot-on; faking that he's going to get Lydia off her dependency on drugs while keeping her hooked by making it seem that he's doing it because she's begging him. Classic user methodology. You just know he's the one who got her on "coping" pills in the first place; all the better to manipulate her. I loathed him immediately.

I adore what they did with Delia. It completely fucking made sense, and followed what's happened in the modern NYC Arts scene. I love how she and Lydia now get along, I mean, shit, Lydia's in her 50s and Delia's in her 70s, they're both middle-aged women, and, bless their hearts, the screenwriters and Burton made them act like grown women.

Astrid seemed older than 16 to me, but hey, I'm not around teenagers these days. I appreciated that she wasn't a brat. Her resentment and having her back up were appropriate for her family situation; a beloved father whose body was never found (I think); a mom always working or promoting because of Rory, doped on pills and famous for being a ghost-seeing nutjob, who can't see Astrid's father. That's a lot to deal with.

The way they handled Charles was perfect, especially his claymation demise. His afterlife body was comically gross, and an ingenious way of including Charles in the film without having to recast another actor, except for his voice. Charles being in the Netherworld provides a great thread to Delia's later death. His headstone being the shape of a shark's fin was a humorously grim touch.

The Sylvia Young Theatre School Choir sang at Charles' funeral, and their voices were beautiful.

Arthur Conti was fantastic as Jeremy (70s teens remember his grandfather, Scottish actor Tom Conti). His American accent was flawless. He was the perfect balance of cute and mature, and his niceness made his being evil all the worse; while Astrid says the incantation you can see him slightly out of focus behind her, smiling in a chilling way. I love that there isn't the slightest hint that he's a multiple murderer, and of his own parents! When he's about to get his passport stamped he shows absolutely no remorse toward Astrid, which makes his damnation all the sweeter.

Beetlejuice . . . . What can I say? Michael Keaton created Beetlejuice as we know him, and he fit right back in character as easily as drawing breath. His body language, his weird way of walking, his expressions, everything is just as you'd expect Beej to be. But then we get to see more! I can't express how happy I was to see Beej's origin story, which turned the throw-away line about having a pretty good time during the Black Death into something more substantial. Seeing Keaton as human Beej was a delight.

An important detail was that, even though Beej says his heart had long since withered, he fell for Delores. He says he was "bewitched." Perhaps not love, but lust certainly. It's quite clear that Delores was much higher in social station than Beetlejuice, so he must have thought he'd won the lottery with her choosing him. My god, his ego had no problem with his drunken ass being hauled to bed by his new wife, and his enthusiasm was huge. I love that they gave him the gut in his human form (Keaton doesn't have one).

Richard was the nice guy I hoped he would be. But it was telling that, when he says goodbye to Lydia at the ladder in the mausoleum, they don't hug. They don't even shake hands. It shows the truth of Lydia's previous statement to Astrid that she and Richard's relationship had ended long before his death.

Wolf is every 70s crime drama/movie distilled. Hammy, over the top, constantly spouting his Catch Phrase.

Why are there so many shrunken head guys? And why did Beej hire people who can't talk to answer his phones? It's loony and fits the Netherworld random logic. They're Beej's Minions.

I've seen a lot of people on tumblr, as well as professional movie critics, say there were "too many villains" and that the plot was "too hard to follow."

For those who agree with this, I recommend you never attempt to read anything by Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, Edgar Allan Poe's detective stories, or Agatha Christie. Because your brains would fry.

Look, there are two villains. Just two.

Delores poisoned Beetlejuice, he killed her with an axe in revenge, in the Afterlife she reassembles and hunts him down, killing others in her wake, which sets Wolf Jackson and the Ghoul Squad after her, until she's defeated with a sandworm.

Rory has been manipulating Lydia, keeping her doped, gas-lighting her, until under the Truth Serum injected by Beej he spills the beans and Lydia rejects him, until he's eaten at the same time as Delores by the sandworm.

As for "Delores and Rory weren't given enough story," what more do you want? How Delores joined a soul-sucking cult? How Rory became a user, seeking out vulnerable, grieving women to exploit? We learn as much as we need to. Anything more would have stuffed the film with unnecessary crap.

The only shit I didn't care for was the baby.

The whole Counseling scene was a big gross-out, and I'm sure Tim Burton intended it that way. The original couldn't have been more gross than it was or it would have earned an R Rating, keeping out everyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states; this was the 80s). But now, Burton could be a lot more graphic. I was stunned that he had Lydia go through the "pregnancy," but it obviously didn't hurt her. For me Babyjuice has no point. It doesn't advance the plot, and its reappearance only drives home the weirdness of the ending.

What the ever fuck was the ending??

Especially Astrid giving birth to the Beetlebaby. It would suggest Beetlejuice is its father, which means he and Astrid had sex. Which we can be pretty sure they didn't . . ? In the counseling scene Beej refers to the baby as his "inner child." So its not his literal child? Even so, why would Astrid give birth to it the same way her mother did?

I've read all the theories about the ending, and at this point one's as good as the other. Perhaps that's the point: To keep us all guessing. Because I'm sure, all along, there's been a plan for Beetlejuice 3, IF this movie was a hit. If it wasn't, if it bombed (since 2010 all of Burton's films have bombed), the ending would lead to speculation forever, to people writing fucking dissertations about its symbology and metaphors, etc.

But if it was a hit, which it is, the seeds are there for a third and final film. But so fucking murky no one can guess what it'll be like.

The only part of the ending I liked was Beej shaking awake and saying, as he glances at Lydia, "I just had the weirdest dream." And Lydia looking over. Not terrified. Not screaming or leaping out of bed. Not seeing the indentation in the pillow and yelling in protest. Just staring.

Do I want a third film?

I love Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I love it more every time I watch it. I accept everything in it as canon, even the baby, resentfully.

But Burton might fuck up the last one. He might do things I never wanted to be canon. When a sequel is made of a hit film, the creators sometimes become self-conscious. BJ2 wasn't, because it'd been 36 years since the original. They had no idea whether this version would fly. Since it has, massively, I'm afraid the screenwriters and Burton may become too aware of the audience and try to cater to it. OR they'll go the opposite direction and try to come up with a plot they think fans would never imagine.

So I'm pretty much stuck in the same place I was before I saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Wary, skeptical, and cynical.