#that they remember it sometimes or reread it and smile

[remyfire]

When the writer agonies hit.

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[joelsmochi]

Dirty Lies

SUMMARY: Joel realized how much you matured since he last saw you 4 years ago and can’t resist you. WARNINGS: age gap [reader is 22, joel is 35], smut minors dni, no descriptions of reader aside from having shoulder length hair & having a girly sense of fashion, pervy!joel, shy-ish!joel, needy!joel, reader seduces joel. 18+ WARNINGS: infidelity if you squint (technicalities people), brief objectification, masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, reader was a lying little shit in high school but it paid off WC: 7.3k [please read author's note]

A/N: this was originally going to be a 15k word long smut as part of my LDR series, but........ I figured the more parts I can make out of it the more content I can produce, so here is part one of Us Against The World. Enjoy :) Edit: I’m rereading this and noticing a few typos, I apologize about those! Grammarly isn’t so helpful sometimes…

series masterlist | main masterlist

There you were in your blue tank top and yoga pants laying with your father’s dog in the middle of the front yard. You had just returned from New York a few days earlier from college, which your father amicably told Joel about over a few beers the week before.

Joel was expecting to see your 18-year-old self: long hair, sparkly eyeshadow, dressed in your late mother’s hand-me-downs from the 80s. But that was no longer you.

You dressed more modern and age-appropriate. Your hair was shorter, looked curlier, and you had highlights. Your eyebrows were thinner and your face was free from the loud makeup your teenage self was accustomed to. Joel would make jokes from time to time about how he believed you were just born with glitter all over your eyes.

Joel felt a little silly thinking you wouldn’t have changed. Who doesn’t make a drastic change when they leave high school? He hadn’t found the time to stop by and say hello but he wasn’t necessarily rushing it.

He’d met your father when you guys moved in next door in 1993 and he remembered you introduced yourself the second you saw him and Sarah playing outside despite your father’s protests.

You told Joel about how your dad was only being grumpy because he’d just turned thirty-six. Something about getting old. You didn’t bother to retain that information.

But here you were: all grown up. It reminded Joel of the day he overheard you and your best friend talking about how handsome you thought he was. He wondered if you still felt that way.

You sat up, feeling the sense that someone was watching you; your eyes scanned around until instinct made you look to the same window Joel was standing in.

For some reason, he didn’t feel embarrassed about being caught staring. He offered you an energetic smile and you took in his appearance.

He hadn’t changed much — his hair was a little longer and he had a few more fine lines across his face, but he was still the handsome man you remembered and admired.

You stand up and walk over to the window prompting him to open it.

“Hey, creep,” you teased with a big grin, “how ya been?”

Even your voice sounded different with its blend of Texas and New York. It was sultry with a hint of confidence. He tried not to let his weaknesses show.

“I’m doing all right… Sorry for starin’. Could hardly tell that was you,” he responded.

You just barely saw his eyes glance down to your chest, and it made you smirk.

Had this been any other man you’d have your fist meeting their jaw, but it wasn’t any other man. It was Joel. You hadn’t forgotten that he was attractive, but you did forget just how attractive. Or maybe his sexiness came with his age.

Not like it mattered anyways. It wasn’t like you could make a move.

“I been gettin’ that a lot… Dad tells me you’re a contractor now with Tommy.”

Joel nodded and said, “Yep, hated workin’ for other people, so…”

You were unsure if you were being awkward or if it was just… Awkward.

“Cool. Yeah, no, I get that. How is Tommy, by the way? Is he still really cute?” You giggled.

This made Joel roll his eyes. “Not cuter than me,” he answered begrudgingly. You watched how his eyes faltered again, trailing from your lips to your belly ring. “Your dad let you get that?”

You scoffed and waved your hand lazily as if you were swatting his condescending tone away. “One, Dad can’t tell me what to do with my body. And two, Tommy was always the cuter one.”

“S’that so?” Joel grunted as if he were tempted to laugh.

You gave him a cunning look and nodded. “Yeah. But you were always more handsome.”

Joel found himself blushing at the compliment, trying to wipe the redness away with his calloused palm to no avail.

You let out a quiet teetering laugh and looked back to make sure your dog was okay for a moment. “He get that dog after I left?”

Joel focused on you again and confirmed it once he noticed the dog again. “Yeah. I think your dad likes having something to take care of.”

You looked back into Joel’s eyes and bathed in them for a moment. He seemed more like himself, more certain of who he was. It made you a little sad to know how much time has passed, but maybe it was better this way.

“He was always like that. I think it started after… Well, you know.” You took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “How’s Sarah? She still my little rockstar?”

“She’s more of a pop star, now,” he said. “She still wears that bracelet you let her have, the… The silver one.”

Your chest swelled with joy and you couldn’t contain your excitement. “Really?! Aw, man, that’s so cool. I remember I would throw a fit if I didn’t have that damn thing on.” The dog barking grabbed your attention once again. He was just barking at the mailman but settled once the worker started petting him. “Sorry!” You shouted before returning your focus to Joel. “Well, Joel it was nice seeing you. We should… Catch up. I could use some… Life advice.”

“I’m free tomorrow night if that works?” He tried to contain his excitement.

You slowly backed away, giving him one more nod and smile. “Perfect. Just come over whenever like old times.”

Joel decided to be respectful enough to not ogle over your ass as you walked away. He turned away from the window wondering how the hell he was going to get over this… Crush?

Is that what this was? A crush?

He decided to not torture himself with his intrusive thoughts.

“Hey, kid,” Joel greeted. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but greeted him back. He entered the backyard slowly trying to get a feel for the mood. He sat next to you in the extra papasan chair and snatched your beer out of your hands. You glared at him, unable to hold it for long when he shot you that infamous smile. “Everything all right?”

He tasted your strawberry chapstick around the rim of the glass and let the taste linger on his tongue. His eyes fell to your lips as he thought about how the chapstick would taste coming straight from you. Raw and unfiltered.

You held your breath, wishing you had enough courage to ask your father these questions. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your father, you just wanted an opinion from an outside perspective. You were hoping Joel wasn’t as inclined to protect or embarrass you as much as your dad.

“There’s this guy I’ve been dating for a few months now… I…” You sigh frustratedly with the tension surrounding the question meanwhile Joel grew tense and jealous? He asked himself why that was the way he felt about you having a boyfriend.

You apprehensively said, “We had sex a few times before I left and it wasn’t…good.”

“Okay?” Joel asked as a way to tell you to keep going.

“How should I go about telling a guy that?”

He cleared his throat uncertain of how to answer your question. He didn’t want his newly discovered feelings to cloud his judgment as the chances of you two becoming a thing were slim to none. He wouldn’t want to sabotage you or your relationships. Especially when you trusted him enough to ask such a burdening question.

Joel accepted the awkwardness of the topic and put it aside. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed. “Well, have you tried suggesting things that he can do to make you—it feel good?” He asked.

“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s me,” you admitted.

“Does he do the things you ask him to?”

“Kinda?” Your cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed tightly.

He gave you a look that said come on now.

“He like… Does half of it?” You could just die of embarrassment right now.

“Wh—? How does he do half of it?”

You groaned obnoxiously and chugged some more beer. “I don’t know?! He does what I ask for like five minutes and then just does what he’s used to I guess.” He watched you poke your bottom lip out to pout as you stared into the glass bottle. “I really like him, Joel.”

“Does he like you?”

“Well, yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He inhaled sharply through his teeth and stole your beer bottle again. “All I will say is that a man that truly likes you would try harder, especially during sex, and especially if you’ve told him how he could make you feel good.”

“So… What do I do?”

“Do you think he likes you?” He asked again. “Think about it for a second. What does he do for you?”

“Well, he…” Your voice trailed off into silence as your mind went blank. Surely this guy did something for you to make you like him, right? But anything that did happen to come to mind was the bare minimum. You didn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction, so you said, “I think it could work.”

“Who’re trying to convince? Me or yourself?” He saw the frustration on your face and propped a finger below your chin to make you look at him. “If a guy really likes you, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have to ask more than once,” was all he said after he took a sip of your beer.

“What do you mean?”

Joel’s sigh almost sounded irritated. “I mean… A guy that truly likes you and deserves you won’t make you suffer through sex. A real man’ll take care a’you.”

“A real man, huh?” You bantered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Like you?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Do you like me?”

Why the fuck did I ask him that?! You thought as soon as the words left your mouth.

Joel didn’t couldn’t answer right away. His voice just stumbled over his tongue and out of his mouth.

“I think you’re a sweet girl,” he finally said, “and you’re smart enough to know who’s worthy of your time and attention. Doesn’t sound like it’s him.”

You couldn’t defeat the growing smirk on your face as he fought the urge to look over your body. He wasn’t so good at hiding it.

You turned your body in the chair slightly and dauntingly lifted your leg to touch your bare toes against his calf. You watched his breath get caught in his throat and your mouth fell open in awe at how easy it was to get him riled up.

He looked at the ground, not moving a single inch of his body. He was overwhelmed by your confidence.

The amount of attention Joel’s given you in the last ten minutes already seemed to surpass the attention your “boyfriend” (can you even call him that?) had given you.

Your foot trailed up Joel’s leg before you rested it upon his knee; Joel’s eyes screwed shut as if he were praying to not get caught like this, but your voice brought his gaze back to you.

“You didn’t answer my question, Joel,” you whispered seductively. Your foot left his leg and you got on your knees in the chair, then you leaned forward, hands around the rim of his own seat, and leaned in devilishly close to his face. “Do you like me?”

He swallowed hard, his fingertips turning white as they pressed into the bottle.

His lack of an answer caused an impatience to grow inside you. You leaned in even closer and strengthened your eye contact with him. Your fingers absentmindedly trailed over his knee to the midpoint of his clad thigh.

His spine shivered and his arms grew goosebumps. “Why don’t you have this attitude with your boyfriend?” He asked lowly in a poor attempt to further evade answering you.

You snickered and looked over his beer-covered lips, craving to taste them. “If I’m being honest he’s technically not my boyfriend… You’re tellin’ me things about men and how they should act. It’s making me feel like… He just can’t handle me.”

He smirked at you, fighting the way his body pleaded to touch yours. “If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the one for you.”

“Oh?” You got even closer, your nose touched his and you heard him choke on his breath. “Do you think you could handle me?”

He chuckled rashly and straightened his posture, now sensing you tense up. “I could,” he confidently confessed. “But this ain’t right, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you scoff, “you can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

“If you keep actin’ like a spoiled brat you won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you retorted, a cocky essence in your eyes.

“That so?”

“Maybe you can show me how a real man should be taking care of me.”

Joel had to stop himself from speaking as it would have potentially led to consequences. His flustered cheeks and wide lustful eyes created a hunger you’d never felt before.

However, you wanted Joel to earn it. Push him to the point of begging for just a taste of you. You needed to know if he craved you. Something you longed for from other men that just could not deliver.

You hovered your agape lips over his so dangerously it tickled his nerves. You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek then sat back in your original position.

Joel was both relieved and disappointed with the kiss. Relieved it didn’t end up with his head buried between your thighs, and at the same time disappointed that it didn’t.

For the next few days, you settled into your room as best as you could and got everything how you wanted it to be. Well, almost. You wanted a shelf to go over your closet so that you could display your most prized possessions.

When the idea sparked in your head you remembered that your dad said he was going to be gone for most of the day. You figured you could hold off for one more day. That was until you heard some power tools and heavy grunting from beyond your window.

Joel.

Joel had followed your lead as best as he could and you had to admit that the lack of physical contact was making it harder to resist him.

You felt a bit strange, however. After all, this is Joel. Sweet, caring, next-door neighbor Joel. You and your friends had a crush on him and his brother, Tommy, sure, but this wasn’t that. And you surely weren’t a child anymore. But still, you couldn’t help but think of how strange the dynamic is.

It wasn’t enough to stop you from taking your sweatpants off and changing out of your t-shirt into a stretchy tank top. You poked your head out of your window and shouted Joel’s name a few times until you successfully got his attention.

“Hey!” You said with a proud smile.

“Hey, kid!” He shouted back.

“Can you build a shelf for me? I wanted to get my room done today, but my old man’s gone!”

“Right now?” He tried to seem indifferent.

You just smiled harder and motioned for him to come over. “Please?!”

He huffed and looked at his half-done project, ultimately deciding to help you instead. The sooner he helps you the sooner he could create distance, he figured. Though deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You patter downstairs to unlock the door for him. He could see from the corners of his eyes that you were half naked, only in white panties and your top.

“Couldn’t a’put pants on?” He asked grumpily as he walked past you, not giving you the satisfaction of staring. You shut and lock the door before guiding him upstairs.

“Yeah, but I figured since you were doing the job for free I could at least give you something to look at,” you flirted. He didn’t even bother trying to stop you.

“What d’ya need done exactly?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I want those shelves to hang over my closet right… Here. I have a power drill here already, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it.”

He was doing a decent job at keeping his eyes anywhere but on your body, but in his mind he had already taken your clothes off and fucked you against the wall.

“S’alright, I can get it for ya,” he said while giving you an earnest look.

“What?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug and a smirk. You lightly smack his arm and plop down on your bed.

You lay on your stomach and flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally smelling some of the perfume samples. You snuck glances at Joel’s broad back as he made sure everything could be lined up, smiling to yourself at how efficiently he worked.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Joel randomly asked after about ten minutes. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he peaked over his shoulder. 

You stifled your laugh and began looking at the magazine again before answering him. “He actually ended things with me two days ago. But like I said, he technically wasn’t my boyfriend. He never asked.”

“Oh… You doing okay? Seemed like you really liked him.”

“I like someone else more,” was all you said. Joel took a second, then just nodded even though you weren’t looking at him anymore.

“This someone have a name?” He asked after a few more moments of silence.

Joel’s internal conflict was teetering between giving in and giving up. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to you, but that’s what fueled his filthy thoughts even more.

“Yep, he sure does.”

Your tone was the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You felt hot and desperate, but you (almost) fooled him by sounding bored. He didn’t want to give into your childish game of beating around the bush, so he kept his mouth shut and began hammering a nail into the wall.

Suddenly you had an idea. An awfully sinister one.

You tossed the magazine on your nightstand and sat up in the bed, leaning into a few pillows and angling yourself so that Joel could get the perfect view if he dared to look.

Your hands traced uneven lines and patterns over your clad breasts and you gasped softly at your nipples perking up quickly. He couldn’t hear you over his hammering.

You rid yourself of your wet panties, kicking them to the edge of the bed. You spread your legs and began working big and slow circles over your sensitive clit. You used your free hand to pinch your nipple over your shirt, the combination of stimuli making you give a more audible moan.

Joel didn’t think much of it at first — he figured you were moving around on the bed to get more comfortable. So when the next moan came and he stopped his work to look at you he was taken aback, to say the least.

He said your name, but you shook your head in protest. “Is this okay?” You asked, innocence spreading across your face.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.

“Joel?” You snapped him out of his daze. “S’this okay?”

He nodded and watched your trembling hands dip down into your glistening slit, collecting your wetness and coating it over your clit. Your body was stiff with anticipation, watching him watch you.

He took in all of your beauty like the way your eyes fluttered halfway shut and how you bit your plump lip to quiet your mewls. One hand cupped your breast so gently and the other rubbing steady, taunting circles over your sensitive bud. He watched the way you pleased yourself and let this picture of you engrave itself into his memory.

One day, Joel thought, I’d be able to make her feel as good as she makes herself feel.

He ignored the hardening of his cock pressing against his jeans, not caring enough to touch himself if it meant he didn’t get to feel you. He found the situation quite sexy and the lack of physical contact made him feel good.

You were showing him that he didn’t need to touch you or talk to you. He didn’t need to do a damn thing. All he needed to do was stand there and let you look at him.

Your moans were quiet and soft, barely heard by him. You squeezed your nipple harshly and jolted at the shock of electricity it sent throughout your body, your eyes screwing shut and your legs curling up into an almost fetal position at the feeling.

He saw you swallow the lump in your throat as you looked into his eyes again, soon scanning over his body and imagining how he would feel on top of you. The imagination was more than enough to get you going.

You imagined he felt strong and heavy above you, trapping you with his burly arms and using his lean thighs to keep your legs open for him as he rolled his hips to meet yours.

You absentmindedly curled your middle and ring finger into your creamy pussy, chasing after the feeling of being stretched out by Joel. Your pussy effortlessly squelched as your discharge poured out of you like a waterfall, coating your plump ass cheeks in your juices.

You got a bit louder but remained mindful of the open windows just a few feet away. You watched the movement in his jeans from his cock that twitched, longing for just some fucking relief. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even adjust his pants. He wanted you to know that you were the one in charge and that he was willing to suffer just for you.

“Joel,” you breathed out in between helpless murmurs.

He almost caved at how sweetly you said his name like you were asking for help. You reached even further into your sex, pressing into your sweet spot carefully. You pretended it was him.

Allowing your eyes to shut and your mouth to open, your mind dove deeper into the fantasies of Joel. You imagined him fucking you slowly, steady enough to not make your bed squeak too loud. Your fingers followed your mind, bumping against your g-spot the same way you wanted him to: carefully, yet forceful.

Joel felt awkward just standing there watching you, but you looked so beautiful. Sprawled out just for him with your fingers dipping into your sopping cunt as if you were made just for him. He saw your shoulders twitch and a hiss escaped your lips.

A ripple of ecstasy shocked your nerves, your walls tighten around your fingers, and your clit tensed up with a tickling sensation.

Your face twisted from the overwhelming feeling that began to encapsulate you from your core to your mind. Your moans became shallow and louder. Your clit throbbing beneath your palm motivated your to work your fingers faster. You fucked yourself with more desire than you had before, still twisting your perky nipple between your other fingers.

You were a lot more gentle with yourself than Joel would have expected. You took your time, didn’t overwhelm yourself.

He knew he loved it when the ever-growing pressure inside of you burst into a million flames throughout your trembling body. He saw that the slower you were with yourself the more intense the orgasm was.

He accidentally groaned at the sight of you: clinging to your bedsheet with the very hand that toyed with your breast, eyes refusing to open from the immense pleasure soaring through your veins, curling up into a ball because your body couldn’t comprehend just how good you were feeling.

He noticed how your cum gushed around and below your fingers creating a wet spot on your blanket. He carefully watched as you opened your eyes, still slowly fingering yourself. You continued to feel your orgasm, exploring how much of it you could endure.

You moved your free hand to your clit and rubbed tiny and fast circles around it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you refused to moan anything but his name.

You shoved your fingers deep inside of you to press against your g-spot relentlessly. Your toes curled at the mix of pleasure.

You knew your orgasm was coming back more powerful than before already, and you braced yourself when your walls flexed against your fingers basically forcing them out; you chewed hard on your lip and laid your stiff fingers flat against your clit to rub from side to side at the arrival of your squirt. You squealed behind your swollen lip and let your squirt splash everywhere.

Joel palmed his rock-hard cock for some relief as he watched in awe at how you came for him. You looked so fucking delicious soaking yourself in your juices. His heart punched against his chest and his mind nearly blank, only filled with you.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you eased up on your clit. You let out sweet hums of bliss and you opened your eyes again, carefully analyzing his body language.

He practically reeked of inferiority. He was your marionette, your toy, whatever you wanted him to be. He didn’t recognize you in the best way possible. You were an unwrapped present that he couldn’t wait to open and play with. Your confidence grew at his puppy eyes that were low and dark, filled with a need to serve you.

Your fingers collected some of the creamy nectar between your folds before you brought it to your mouth and darted your wet tongue out to taste it.

You never broke eye contact once, observing how his body shuddered at the filthy action. His breath was heavy, his chest heaved in anticipation. You stuck your fingers inside of your mouth moaning at the salty goodness coating every single taste bud.

It wasn’t until your fingers dropped back down to your side and you gave him a shit-eating grin that he finally looked away, sighing loudly.

He felt ashamed of himself.

He’d known you since you were a child.

How could he ever look you in the eye again?

How could he ever look your father in the eye again?

You slipped your panties on again while he wasn’t looking and just grabbed your magazine, flipping through the pages again like nothing ever happened though the wet spot on your bed clearly said otherwise.

When Joel saw you had returned to your previous activities he did the same. Drilling and hammering your shelves onto the wall like nothing fucking happened.

“Here you go sir, you have a lovely day,” you chirped at the customer as you handed him his food waiting until he left. You turned around to straighten up the counter behind you when the bell on the door jingled. “Hello, give me just one moment and I’ll be with you!”

You gave the counter a lazy wipe with the wet washcloth before tossing it into the sink nearby and turning around, being met with a smirking Joel.

“My, my, you working at a burger joint? Never thought I’d see the day,” he teased.

You made a face and told him to shut up. You tried not to notice the sheer layer of sweat that coated his partially exposed chest. “What can I get you, sir?”

His face contorted with arrogance and he placed a hand over his chest. “Sir? You callin’ me sir now? Oh, you are just too cute.”

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed out a stream of air, waiting for him to stop fucking with you.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, dropping the act. “Can I get a burger and some fries?”

“You don’t want a drink?” You asked before writing his order down quickly and sliding it through the kitchen window.

“Are you tryin’a make me tip you more?”

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s just that the cola here is really good.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as if he didn’t believe you.

“If you want a cola I’ll make it extra cold for you,” you whispered as if you were telling him a dirty secret.

“Mhm, okay. Fine, I’ll take your word for it. Gon’ and get it f’me then.”

“You can ask that a little nicer,” you scoffed. You walked off, breathing in a gust of smoke on your way to the soda machine. “F’here or to-go?!” You shouted.

“Mm, I was gonna get it to go, but I think I’ll stay and keep you company.”

You could just hear the smile in his voice.

“Awe, how thoughtful of you,” you bantered before rinsing out a clean cup and filling it with ice. The cook called out the order was ready and you thanked him before finishing up with Joel’s drink. You grabbed the tray and walked over to the end of the counter where the stools sat, setting the food in front of Joel with a weak smile.

He watched you closely as you leaned onto your elbows waiting for him to try his food.

“What r’ya doing workin’ in a restaurant? Didn’t you graduate for like… Fashion or some shit?” Joel asked, unable to keep his smile down at how pretty you looked in your uniform: a teal skirt and a mustard yellow shirt, but so, so tacky. You hated the fucking outfit, it was everything you would never wear, but Joel thought you made it look good.

“I did,” you confirmed, “but I wanted a humbling job before I truly entered the world of fashion.”

Joel’s thick and somewhat dirty fingers unraveled his greasy burger after he dumped the fries out chaotically. He took an unnecessarily big bite, not seeing how your eyes watched the trail of juice trickle down the corner of his mouth to his chin before he swept it set with his thumb.

“Humbling, hmm?” He questioned before swallowing his barely chewed bite. “You’re a wise girl, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smugly replied. You stole a fry off of his tray and smiled at his frowning face while eating it before washing it down with his fizzling soda. “Best drink that ‘fore it goes flat.”

You walked away momentarily to help a customer that just walked in; she only wanted a dollar milkshake so you told her not to worry about paying. You took a dollar and some change from your tip pocket and put it in the register before grabbing a styrofoam cup and packing her cup.

Joel noticed halfway through you making the shake that whenever you tapped the bottom of the cup against the counter your breast jiggled against your arm. He felt the lady nearby staring at him so he turned his head just enough to see the mix of disgust and concern on her face.

If only she knew how filthy you were for him just last week…

He didn’t care enough to stop though, he just went back to looking at how your clothes hugged your body.

You finished up her shake and popped a lid on it before grabbing a straw and walking back to give it to her.

Joel heard the lady ask if you were okay, and he promptly rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and tried his best to not laugh. You were confused by her question, simply nodding your head and saying, “Yeah?”

She looked at Joel once more, choosing not to say another word before leaving.

“Fuck was that about?” You asked, watching her walk away.

“She saw me starin’ at your tits,” he said between obnoxious bites. “If only she saw—“

Your eyes widened. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“Whatever you say, doll,” he teased before taking another bite.

You pretended to be grossed out by seeing the chewed-up food in his mouth as he spoke, swatting his hand gently. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me,” he quipped with a simper. He took a sip of his drink, humming at how refreshing it felt. “This is good,” he told you.

“Told ya.”

“What time are you out?”

You looked at the door when your manager came in, apologizing for taking longer than she expected.

“You’re fine, it’s a slow day,” you told her as she walked to her office. You looked at Joel and slammed your book and pen on the counter near the register. “I’m out now. Why?”

“Your dad asked me to pick you up.”

You felt a rush of worry. “Why? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, honey, everything’s fine. He forgot about pickin’ you up today and got drunk with his buddies and called me—well, he called Tommy. Said he wouldn’t be back home ‘til tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of his brother’s name. “Oh? Well, why isn’t Tommy here?” You strutted around the counter and stood next to Joel as he inhaled the last of his food.

“Think you know why,” he grunted.

Anxiety pang inside of your chest, but you convinced yourself it was excitement. You were hoping that he wanted to get you alone somewhere and fuck you into the next week.

But you didn’t want to seem desperate. You kept a straight face, waiting for your boss to come back out before getting your things and punching out.

You followed Joel to his Chevy and thanked him when he opened the door for you. He huffed when by the time he got inside the car himself you were already flipping through his book of CDs.

“I got a good one in already—“

“Is it The Writing’s On the Wall by Destiny’s Child?” You interrupted after you found said CD.

“No, b—“

“Then it’s not what I want to listen to.”

Joel endured your (arguably bad) singing for the ten-minute ride back to your house. He thought about a few things in that ten minutes:

-Sarah wasn’t home, so he didn’t need to worry about food (or getting caught), so this time was optimal to make a move on you.

-If he were to make a move on you, then you two wouldn’t get caught.

-If he were to make a move on you, how exactly would he do it?

Once he arrived in his driveway, you both stepped out of the car and he walked over to your side.

“You not working tonight?” You asked.

“No, we finished early.”

You looked at him with lush eyes and bit the inside of your mouth, a flirty smile coaxing your lips. He looked hopeful for something, anything.

“I was just gonna watch TV all night,” you started, “and maybe make some dinner. I know you just ate, but you and Sarah are welcome to come over.”

“Sarah’s at a friend’s tonight, doing some studying,” he answered. His voice trailed off as if he weren’t finished speaking his thought aloud, but you picked up where he reluctantly left off.

“Do you want to come over, then? Just you?”

He looked around the quiet neighborhood as if he had to think about what he wanted. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You lead him to your house, kicking your shoes off at the door and he followed. He felt unsure of his decision. He wondered if this night would play out platonically and just be filled with conversation and dinner, or if this was truly the beginning of a secret he’d have to keep forever.

“Spaghetti okay?” You asked him once you both entered the kitchen, decorated with oranges and reds, and yellows, reminiscent of your late mother. You tossed your half apron on the island before making your way to the refrigerator.

You heard his feet patter on the linoleum quickly but before you could turn around on your own Joel did it, pinning your back against the refrigerator and knocking down some of the bottles inside of it.

You gasped when his fingers peacock over the outsides of your thighs, gripping at the hem as a means to pace himself.

His eyes were bright yet lustful as his proximity alone sucked the air out of your lungs. Your chests heaving against each other’s created the only other physical contact you had with him.

He then dropped to his knees before you got the chance to speak; his calloused hands rose beneath your skirt, hiking it up enough for him to pull your wet panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them for him and he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder before meeting his mouth to your clit tongue first.

You moaned at how he just dove into it, not bothering with kissing or easing you into it. Your digits laced through his messy curls while his tongue coated itself in your juices.

His tongue did crazy laps around your clit and he smacked a couple of firm kisses in between his licks. You tried to watch his work but your stupid fucking skirt was in the way. You settled, however when his eyes opened, the only visible part of him from your view.

You tasted so good to him, he tasted your day of work mixed in with your salty precum and he couldn’t get enough of it. He moaned when you tugged at his hair, burying his face as deep as he could and closing his eyes.

You let out a stream of obscenities while using your calf to push into his back, afraid that if you didn’t hold on tight enough he’d vanish.

He wrote out his full name over your clit like he was casting a spell that anything you or someone else touched you there you would only think about him.

You were amazed at how good he was eating you out — you didn’t think he’d be bad. You just didn’t know it could feel this good. It was like you felt him touching and kissing and licking all over your body, swimming in an endless pool of dissolution.

His touch was decadent through remembering how careful you were with yourself. He wanted to cater to you and to make you feel as good as you made yourself. And on top of that, he just really wanted to eat your pussy.

Savor it.

Taste it.

Drink you until you fucking ran dry and begged him to stop.

Nothing could have torn his lips away from your pussy. Hell, someone could have walked in and he’d still keep going.

“Joel,” you gasped, throwing your head back and grinding on his face.

He loudly moaned, tightening his grip around your thighs and wagging his head furiously from side to side to provide more stimulation.

Your hips bucked into his face roughly and you screeched, pulling even tighter on his hair.

“Joel, oh—fu-fuck!”

He smirked and pulled at the skirt to unveil his eyes again. His dick angered in his jeans, but he ignored it. He’d much rather focus on the way you writhed from his touch. Your panting growing heavier fueled his already intense movements. He began to suck while still shaking his head earning another screech from you.

You never felt out of control with how loud you were before. Every motion sent a million shockwaves throughout your body. You always did a good job at keeping quiet enough so that the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but fucking hell was Joel the one to break that evergreen streak.

You felt his hot breath collide with the fluids coating your sex and his nails leave indents on your flesh.

His tongue darted out to collect a stream of your cum, but his nose butted against your clit as he continued shaking his head making your hips buck once more. Then he realized… He got to stimulate your sensitive bud and lick between your folds.

He loved it.

Your moans became more distressed and uneven; he felt you chasing that high. He wanted you to cum so fucking badly. To let all of your pent-up cum pour over him.

You held the back of his head gently and he angled it just right enough for you to ride his face.

“Use my fucking face,” he moaned loud enough between your legs for you to hear. “Use my fucking face to cum.”

Your body gave in finally at his hoarse voice; your hops sped up, still using his nose and lips to overstimulate yourself. The orgasm was forceful, your moans strident.

Joel felt a pool of your cum leak out and drip down his chin onto his neck. He watched you crumble and curl into him and he was attentive enough to hold you steady while your balance dissipated.

Your head was dizzy and your vision blurred. You slowly halted your movements and just stood there being held by him while he placed light, but loving kisses along your dripping cunt.

He finally pulled his face out from underneath your skirt and carefully put your leg down before standing. He tucked some loose hairs back or behind your ears, then caressed your cheek and gave you a peck.

You wiped some of your cum off of his wet chin with your thumb and held it up to his mouth which he gladly sucked on. He grinned at you afterward and fixed your skirt for you.

The silence was soothing because frankly, neither of you knew what to say. It left you speechless, but that could just be the aftereffect of your climax.

The night was beginning to close in sooner than either of you wanted it to. You two just talked, truly catching up on the past four years. He was a lot funnier than you remembered, your cheeks were aching from how much he was making you laugh.

"You are a real gentleman, Joel Miller. What can I say? Dinner and an orgasm?!"

He lifted you up from your spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap so that you were straddling him. "I don't have to be," he murmured against your lips. His fingers flexed into your feverish skin, holding you upright and close by. He chased you with his lips until you finally let him kiss you. "Be honest with me... Did you really think I was handsome in high school?"

Your face grew warm and you hid behind your hands in embarrassment. "Oh, my God."

"Why are you actin' all shy now?"

"Because you weren’t supposed to know about that."

"Know about what exactly?"

You crossed your arms, deciding to let him win this time. "You want details?"

He smirked and leaned back to get more comfortable.

"Well... I used to lie and tell my friends that we fucked," you admitted.

"Really?" Despite his surprise the smirk never left his face. If anything it grew wider.

You sheepishly nodded. "I used to tell them how good you were. Everything you would do to me."

"What would I do to you?" His cock was already throbbing against his jeans, and just like every other time, he ignored it.

"You would fuck me up against the wall," you explained. "Sometimes, you would bend me over the edge of the bed and spank me for being naughty. Or just 'cause you felt like it. I'd even tell them about how you played with my ass so gently because you didn't want to hurt me."

Every word went straight to his dick, making it jerk and prod your thigh.

"Maybe I do need to bend you over and spank you for all that lyin' you were doin'. Your friends probably think I'm some creep now," he said; his tone wasn’t scolding or cold. He sounded thirsty for more of you. Like his throat had already run dry despite how much of you he drank earlier.

"I'd tell them the truth, but if I were to do that now then I'd be lying again," you whispered against his lips.

"We certainly cannot have you spreadin' no more dirty lies, now. Can we?"

-

Read Part 2 here.

[aurumalatus]

kinich x fem!reader, major character death, angst without a happy ending, based off of this concept and with a line referencing this post, wc 600

When Kinich dies, he thinks of the trees.

There’s a certain kind that you always liked the most—dark wood with rough trunks that you could carve into, with emerald leaves that you would pluck from the branch as you flew by. You were always drawn to the nature surrounding the village, loving with the Saurians and admiring the flora and fauna.

He remembers the warmth of you, your heartbeat pressed against his in the inky darkness, the closeness of it all. 

“Ajaw,” he coughs, blood splattering the ground. It’s a sick sort of Rorscach test—Kinich briefly thinks that he can see your face among the crimson blots, or maybe your smile. He traces it with a tender hand.

“...Yes?”

He licks over his teeth, tasting the gore there. 

“Please take care of her.”

A rawness settles in his throat, layered among the taste of ash and iron. 

And, to his own credit, Ajaw listens closely as Kinich leans back against the rock, one hand pressed to the gash in his stomach as he carefully lists out his instructions.

There’s a letter sitting in your desk drawer, one that he penned to you before he left. You hate that he does that—it feels like a goodbye, you always say. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that it could be one, every time.

And this time, it is.

Kinich thinks he’s always been a bit unlucky in his life.

He wants to tell you a lot of things.

The letter should’ve been longer, he thinks. There are so, so many things he should’ve told you before it was too late. But truthfully, he had been dishonest with himself; he never wanted to believe that he’d run out of time.

He wants to tell you that he carved your initials into that tree by your home. It had been on a day when he watched you pick flowers in the meadow outside, a wicker basket tucked under your arm and a daisy threaded behind your ear. Your beauty had hypnotized him to leave a remnant of his awe behind.

When you miss him, he hopes you’ll go find it—the wood will still burn warm, he’s sure.

He hopes that you’ll reread the letters he wrote, that the ink won’t ever dry, that his love will keep the words wet on the page. And, in that way, he will be alive.

And, nestled in the bottom of his sock drawer, a small velvet box. He’d planned it for the day he returned, for the day he would awaken to see your bright smile again and feel the sun rise into his hands, anew.

But the Night Kingdom’s darkness is overwhelming.

He sighs.

At the very least, he hopes that you won’t forget.

Everyone tells him that his strength is in his speed, and he’s grown used to living his whole life that way—always on the run, always on the edge, always leaving something behind.

Long ago, before he had even become acquainted with you, it had been his innocence. When he met Ajaw, his freedom. After everything, he abandons his old, weaker self (or, at least, he tries) and moves on, a snake molting its skin. But sometimes, he finds that he can’t quite let everything go—sometimes, he finds that the remnants stick to him like tendrils of smoke, a heady scent that just won’t quite let go.

He hopes that his devotion doesn’t end up cursing you in the end.

As Kinich slips away, it’s your name on his lips.

[miumura]

━━━ NERD JAKE . . .

| nerd!jake headcanons >< |

pairing nerd!jake x gn!reader genre fluff

warnings none? word count 0.8k+ ( 844 words )

💬 — NERD JAKE BRAINROT the voices have spoken to me and told me to write this. guys you don’t understand how much i live for nerd!jake works … like i don’t know but they are just probably a guilty pleasure of mines 🤓 so you knowww i also had to do something about it !! enjoy <3

NERD JAKE who apologized a million times after bumping into you in the hallway, hurried to pick up your books instead of his scattered papers.

NERD JAKE who became rather flustered when you crouched down to help him, picking up his papers with an apology and a small "thank you” when he gave back the textbooks you dropped.

NERD JAKE who often takes a few glances at your work, purposefully lets you see his so you can correct your answers or ask him for help with anything specific.

NERD JAKE who easily tenses up when your arms touch, breathing sharply as you peek over his shoulder to compare his work with yours, his face turning a shade of pink as he tries to maintain his focus.

NERD JAKE who wears the biggest grin on his face while talking about topics he finds interesting, often uses hand movements to emphasize his words.

NERD JAKE who immediately turns off his phone after sending you a text message, gets overwhelmed with thoughts of whether he came off weirdly or said the wrong things, already considering unsending it.

NERD JAKE who always answers your text messages within the same minute, smiles to himself as you both talk about random things, often leading to late-night conversations.

NERD JAKE who offers to tutor you in the classes you're struggling with, is motivated mainly by the chance to spend more time with you — but also being able to help you too, of course.

NERD JAKE who loves your compliments and praises, is motivated to work even harder to impress you with his knowledge.

NERD JAKE who talks about how smart you are whenever he sees you frustrated with a problem, but often ends up rambling about how great he thinks you are, sometimes leading to his own embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who lets you sleep on his shoulder while he finishes the rest of your assignments.

NERD JAKE who always looks at you when the teacher explains there’s pair work, hoping you’d want to be his partner too.

NERD JAKE who listens to you attentively, making sure to remember to jot down your likes and dislikes later.

NERD JAKE who has a soft spot for you, unable to refuse anything you ask of him, even if it might get him into trouble.

NERD JAKE who keeps all the little notes you two passed around in class in a special box, often revisiting and rereading them whenever he misses you.

NERD JAKE who tries to focus on his studies, but his mind keeps drifting back to you, causing him to eventually plant his head on his desk, scattered with papers.

NERD JAKE who masks the things he does for you as friendly gestures to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the thought of potentially liking you, convincing himself it’s just being a good friend while his heart says otherwise.

NERD JAKE who can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you hang out with someone else, knows he can’t do anything about it and is left pouting.

NERD JAKE who comes up with random excuses whenever you ask to meet up, knows how much he wants to but can't let his feelings grow, especially after seeing you with another guy.

NERD JAKE who focuses on just admiring you from afar, doesn't want to take up too much of your time from your friends at school.

NERD JAKE who leaves an empty classroom with his face a red mess after you confront him about being distant and confess your feelings for him, his heart racing as he tries to process everything.

NERD JAKE who goes home and lies in bed thinking about the incident, replays the moment over and over in his mind before covering his head with his pillow and screaming into it in frustration and embarrassment.

NERD JAKE who stutters while trying to ask you out on a date, nervously fiddling his fingers as he waits for your answer.

NERD JAKE who spends so much time going through his closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the date, heavily debates whether he should wear one of his flannels.

NERD JAKE who gives himself pep talks, practicing to avoid fumbling his words and preparing enough conversation topics to ensure the date won't be awkward.

NERD JAKE who arrives at your house with a bouquet of flowers, complimenting your appearance with a gaze filled with admiration and nervous excitement.

NERD JAKE who spontaneously makes up jokes just to hear your laughter, cherishing the moments when he can bring a smile to your face.

NERD JAKE who completely loses his composure after you kiss him on the cheek, visibly flustered as he touches his face, wondering if he's actually dreaming.

NERD JAKE who walks you home, staying until he sees you safely enter your house before he heads off, a smile lingering on his face.

NERD JAKE who gathers all his courage to ask if he could be your boyfriend, his heart pounding with anticipation as he waits for your response, having poured his feelings into a website created just for this moment.

NERD JAKE who has been captivated by you since the moment you bumped into him, his thoughts fixated on you from the start.

💭 — should i make more works like these because these are lowkey fun to write 👀

enhypen perm taglist is open ; comment or send an ask !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[lady-ashfade]

Please do a alicent hightower x rhaenrya targayren twin brother who she marries and become princess consort. Alicent want him to herself ,so she tries break relationship with the male oc and rhanearya.

Manipulation

Yandere!Alicent Hightower x Male!Reader

I made this last night very late, the sun rising. But I just now reread it and idk if you meant rhaenrya marrying the reader or Alicent. But I made this think Alicent married the reader because that’s what I did all the way through until I went back to edit it. I apologize but I still hope you like it!

Warnings: Yandere tactics, manipulation, obsession, stalking, one mention of something gory.

Readers very existence changed everything about what happened, there would be no war. Do to the reader being the first born son, raised along side rhaenrya he would be it’s rightful hair.

Aemma was proud to have birthed a son for Viserys and a beautiful daughter. She loved her children and always kept a close eye on them, them both being strong headed.

Viserys loved both of them equally. But most of his time was filled with teaching y/n how to be a man and one day a king. From the age of three he took y/n with him on hunts, a memory he cherishes deeply. Rhaenrya was with her mother and was the talk of all the ladies as they gushed over her Beauty.

This being said rhaenrya was raised to believe in her brother who she loved to death. He was her twin and the gods created them together to be in this world. So as time went on she did not resent her brother because she did not feel like she was being replaced for a male heir.

Alicent knew y/n for a short time while she was by the young princess side. Y/n loved to play with rhaenrya and in his free time spent most of it with her. Alicent, being her best friend, was there a lot. He was charming and even though he was younger she never failed to blush when he would comment her. He was a gentleman, his mother and father made sure of it. But y/n never really payed that much attention because he was talking with his sister.

A feeling started to fill her mind of wanting his attention to on her so she started to speak up more. She’d dropped somethings and the reader would help, or get close to him and say something. Her crush got deeper and within a year after realizing, she had fallen deeply in love with the prince. Her attitude started to change when he was around and become all about him. Butting in on conversations, grabbing his arms slightly.

Things took a change when the prince was sent to study in Pentos and around the world to become a better king. Alicent was heartbroken over this news and she cried for days. She never was the same again. After two years her obsession slowly faded but she always seemed to think of him when she got lost in thought. His laugh, the way he made her smile and feel.

Rhaenrya looked passed her obsession for a small crush and did not blame Alicent back then since they were children. Her brother was a handsome boy and she couldn’t blame alicent. Tho, she did like to tease her friend sometimes.

Alicent and Rhaenrya sat together while Alicent read to her. They laughed and tried to get by with rhaenryas consent bickering and pokes of fun. But the city rang of a dragons roar and a deep one at that, their eyes looked up and saw a black dragon with spikes fly above them and casted a shadow down.

Rhaenrya hops up with a huge smile and a laugh, “He’s back.” She shot up and ran off without another word. Alicent was panicking to grab all the stuff she had brought and follow the princess. As she ran her chest filled with butterflies and her mind flashing of images of the boy she remembers. He was still young but could he have grown a beard? How tall was he now? Would he remember her, or better yet, would he be kind to her? She felt sick but her feet ran faster to see her prince.

When they got outside to the dragon pits she placed the books on the ground and grabbed ahold of rhaenrya in excitement. They watch his dragon land and the ground shake below their feet. The beasts mouth opened and screamed at the top of its lungs, a faint male voice shouting. Y/n petted his dragon and spoke to it and laughed. Everyone saw their prince stepping off his dragon and he looked different. His pale skin and freshly cut silky white hair, his frame grown and more muscly toned.

“Quite the entrance brother. Always loved attention.” Rhaenrya pulled away from Alicent and walked towards her brother with a fake face. The boy turned with a smiled while taking off his gloves, “And you dear sister, being betrothed to Lord Strong? Quite a lovely tale.” He smirked as they stood a few steps away from each other.

Rhaenrya broke and leaped towards her brother and hugged him close, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her up. The two laughed in joy to be reunited together again after years. The hug lasted a few seconds before he placed her back on the ground but still holding onto each other. “We must see mother and father at once.” Rhaenrya smiled and tugged him backward with her.

“I’m sure they eagerly await your return.” A new voice pulled the twins apart and around. Y/n took a moment and his breath hitch’s as a bigger smile popped onto his face. Alicent Hightower, the girl who always was kindhearted and soft. It seems her beauty grew with age. She was once’s one of the most beautiful girl he has ever seen but now he is not sure she could be topped in rank.

“Alice Hightower?” He let go of rhaenrya and walked closer and the brunette bowed her head down in respected. “It seems you both grew into beautiful woman, how jealous the other ladies must be.” Her cheeks flushed and the pressure in her chest she felt all those years ago returned. But harder then before. Rhaenrya rolled her eyes at his comment and pulled his arm. “Mother will not like you taking long to see her. Neither father really.” Alicent watched his attention go back to rhaenrya and she felt anger.

Alicent from there got his attention anyway she could. Learning his schedule and always “Bumping” into him at times. Or how she’d dress in prettier dresses to show herself off. Y/n found his alone night walks to never be alone with the hands daughter following him everywhere.

Otto did the same thing he did to Viserys and pushed his daughter into y/n. But Alicent was already doing it by herself and had no problem. Slowly otto got into the kings mind of marrying the two.

“Any girl peak your interest my boy?” Viserys asked while they chatted in the kings chamber. “Have you already picked a woman for me?” His father only smiled and patted his back and took the figure from his sons hands and placed it back down. “You are the future king but my son, I want you to find a match like I did with your mother.” Y/n smiled and looked back down. “There is this one girl…” Viserys cheered and shook his sons shoulders more.

“Is it the Lady Alicent?” The boys head shot up and looked surprised to hear her name. “I see the way you look at her, or the way she looks at you.”

“She’s kind, will make a loving queen.”

Alicent was surprised when one day the reader asks her to take a walk with him in the garden without rhaenrya. But she didn’t hesitated to take his arms and walk with him. The reader was sweet when he asked her to marry him and had a fresh flowers picked just for her. He said she did not have to marry him if did not want but the thought didn’t even cross her mind.

After the betrothal she started to pull the reader away from everyone to keep him to herself. Especially rhaenrya. The thought of having to share her darling made her fingers dug into her skin at the thought. The reader was hers, only hers.

Alicent didn’t even want the reader be around his family at the wedding. Rhaenrya couldn’t even ask for a dance without Alicent pulling him on the dance floor by herself.

The castle saw less and less of him because if he wasn’t studying or with the king, then he was with Alicent. Aemma got to see her son if he had time but rhaenrya was out of the question. The dinner table was awkward with tension between the girls. If rhaenrya was around then Alicent would be right at the readers side.

Reader is so blind to see what’s happening. Alicent is good at playing the innocent girl so he suspects nothing of her manipulating tactics. She is his wife and he needs to care and love her, plus he is very busy with heir things so it is no one’s fault he doesn’t get to see his family anymore.

But does shit get worse she Alicent announces she is pregnant. You think her possessiveness is bad before then this is like hell. You study with in your chamber at the table while Alicent relaxes and reads. She wished for this child since you came back so she loved it dearly, even happy about it as she rubs her belly and whispers. “You are a gift of our love, he has given you to me.”

You love your wife dearly so you do anything you can to make this easy for her. Until the death of your mother happens. She was pregnant again, surprising everyone after years of no children being born. But sadly died in childhood birth along with your baby brother. Everything gets hard on you.

You sneak around to comfort your sister when Alicent thinks your out at the library, or your father when you can since you still see him a bit. Everything is hell and they all look for you but Alicent has you in her clutch.

I haven’t mentioned Daemon yet so here it is. Hates Alicent since he watched her flirt with you in the halls or at feast when you came back. Hates her so freaking much for stealing you away from your twin and even him, platonically. His anger gets more like rhaenrya when she kept you away from your family and took over your mind. Thinks she was a witch and put a spell on you, drugged you, or even threatened you if you did not love her. He constantly tries to get you away.

After months of mourning and your mental state being drained your body was restored by one second of seeing your son. He was so tiny and beautiful. He looked like you so much and you took him in your arms and cradled him. You cheered around the room that you had a son and praised your wife for her hard work. Making sure she had the best of medication and care after. Alicent loved that you focused on the babe while knowing it was a new way to keep you with her.

Aegon was his name, and he was raised by a loving father. Next, a daughter who you were very protective over with her strange like ways but loves her no less. Then your son aemond who couldn’t hatch a dragon egg but you held no grudge. You would tell him stories of how one day he will have a dragon and you will help him hunt it. Daeron your youngest who took mostly after you, his kindness and level head.

Your children grew to be just as protective of you as their mother and hated to let you go. Always kicking and screaming when you tried to leave and cry, they were slightly spoiled. But they followed you around like ducklings and the boys tried to act like you. Even watching you practice and copying your moves, walking even and everything about you. Rhaenrya had children and you wanted to be in their lives so you forced Alicent to have the children spend time with them. You missed your family and it was time to be together.

Oh, but did your kids hate rhaenryas kids- Well, Helaena and Daeron didn’t mind because she was sweet, and Daeron was off in old town. But Aemond and Aegon didn’t like their cousins every much. They hated when you gave them attention or trained them as well, so they’d trip the boys or do something to get your attention.

Rhaenrya tried to talk to Alicent about how she wished no harm to steal you away in hopes to calm her down. Maybe even hang out with you once and a while. But Alicent didn’t give up.

Not only did you have a yandere for a wife, but Yandere children as well who can manipulate you. You belonged to them and no one else.

Extra because why not:

The only way I see Rhaenrya trying to take back the throne is with Daemon in her ear. They see how Alicent has you in control and knows she could do anything. It wasn’t about you because if Alicent was never in the picture you would be a good king. But now Daemon thinks that Rhaenrya needs to have a claim to the throne as well.

Rhaenrya named her fourth child after the reader and Alicent gets pissed about it. Even asks/screams for her to change it because she had no right.

Aegon is different from the show and is more..Better? A loving parent can make all the difference so he turns out, kinda okay. Don’t get me wrong he’s still a dick but he’s better about it. But with the reader by his side actually trying to do good, Aegon wants to impress him and becomes a good man.

Aemond clings to y/n the most because he feels lesser then his siblings for the lack of a dragon which the reader never puts him down for. If the boys are teasing him all it takes is one word to dad and everything will be okay.

Helaena really loves her dad so much. He listens to her, reads to her or gets her bugs from around the world. Even asks her questions of what she is saying. Helaena feels a comfort in him unlike anyone else. She is a daddy’s girl for sure.

[comingdownwithme]

I love your creepypasta au and designs and lore. Do you have anything for Nina the killer, Jane the killer and clockwork?

Sure! Sorry for the late response! had school n' stuff, and I had to reread the old original stories of some of the creepypastas and catch up on any newer additions since this is (technically) my first run in the fandom.

Anyways! Here's my take on the girls! Hope these are alright! This was like- my first time reading Jane and Nina's and my 2nd time since I was 12 reading Clockwork's ekdjske

Nina the Killer

Growing up with a love for horror, Nina Dagon was a young girl isolated from her fellow peers from a young age, with no one else but her brother and mother to confide in. As she grew, so did her love for the macabre, and that love soon grew into an avid interest in True crime. There, at a young, impressionable age where she's at her most isolated and vulnerable, was when she found the man who would change the course of her life, whether he knew or wanted to, or not.

Out of the Creepypastas I've drawn so far (as of Sept. 2024), she's the youngest adult at 25-ish! (Though this may be subject to change as with the actual ages of other characters ://)

Bilingual! Spanish is her first language, English is her second. She's not the best at it, but she's trying.

Grew up with unrestricted Internet access lmao. This... severely impacted her development and how she acted around people at a young age, and a small part of that influence is still present in her childish demeanor as an adult.

Found out about the death of Mr. And Mrs. Woods, alongside the murder of three other kids in the family's suburbian town following their deaths and the burning of their home, through true crime channels.

That is also how she found out about Jeff and related a little too much to his background (her blorbo from her shows).

Jeff's copycat killer, down to his iconic smile, (though hers is a lot thinner and cleaner than Jeff's). They say that imitation the highest form of flattery.

She gets a chainsaw. I think it looks cool :))

Learned exclusively through true crime. Though she's less graceful or experienced than Jeff, she still managed to keep the police off of her, especially when the first of her bullies had gone missing.

Follows Jeff's murders closely. Wherever he strikes, she strikes soon after.

Jane the Killer

While the fires of his own grief and rage still burned bright, Jane E. Arkensaw was a woman that came home at the wrong time. Despite the risk of death as she stands before someone who's hands were stained with the blood of many- including her own parents- Jane fought with adrenaline and anger coursing through her veins like a drug.

The rest of the night was a blur. All Jane remembers as she looks up at the golden silhouette of her burning home amidst the dark backdrop of the evening was that disgusting, Glasgow smile and the fact that within the chaos, she had managed to hurt him.

Jane was scarred worse than Jeff was if comparing their burns. This was because amidst the fire, Jane stayed in a vain attempt to save her dying parents.

As she stands outside, injured, confused and alone as the weight of exhaustion slowly settles in, she wonders why exactly Jeffery "Jeff the Killer" Woods dragged her out of that house before she could die in that fire.

Jane's father used to be in the military, so she learned a thing or two from him in terms of holding one's own in a fight.

Stole the mask she now wears from a Halloween sale at some nearby store during October. A lot of the things she wears has also been either stolen or bought at cheap from thrift shops.

She a lesbian :))

Hasn't and will never kill anyone. Her main target is Jeff.

Despite that, due to her inexperience and Jeff's tendency to escape without a trace, she's sometimes caught in the scene of his crimes instead, leading her to be indirectly framed when she had first decided to hunt around for the white-hooded killer. She's gotten better now though.

Has a complex relationship with Jeff. Despite her seething hatred for him and his apparent distaste in turn, the killer had helped her escape the cops on several occassions, even feeding her during her earlier days.

Still, she won't and will never forgive him, and she dare not try to make sense of the mind of a literal serial killer.

She was an avid enjoyer of the occult and the supernatural before the incident. She still is now, though she's often busied with other priorities.

Clockwork

Having been raised in a broken family and knowing nothing but pain for most of her life, Natalie Ouelette, even at a young age, felt as if both time and space were working against her, puppeteering her life to entertain whatever twisted Gods were watching over humanity. As the years went on, the line between pain and the mundane- even enjoyable- had began to blur, which is reflected in her art during her younger years which she had used to cope. After a series of continuously concerning events, leading to her hospitalisation at a mental institution, Natalie "Clockwork" Oulette escaped, leaving a trail of blood in her wake, including her so called "family".

Practically homeless (like most of my interpretation of the creepypastas are tbh) and had never changed out of the scrubs she had to wear during her stay at the mental institution.

The mutilation and replacement of her eye was a desperate attempt to regain some control of her life, and in the end, she felt like she had

Often confuses physical pain with other sensations.

Doesn't like being touched. Even with injuries where it would prove easier with someone's help, she'd much rather do it herself, leaving some injuries to heal for far longer and scar worse.

Her jacket was one of the few things she brought along with her after she had ransacked her family home.

Usually targets families, especially its older members. She then stays in the family home for a short moment before she moves on.

[megamindsecretlair]

Ok but imagine Franklin asking Uncle Jerome for sex advice because he's trying to impress this woman he's interested in. And Jerome tells him how to get her excited, how to touch her, how to make her cum, etc.

And later, Jerome can hear her moaning and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall and he's proud. 🤣

Got Me Daydreamin'

Pairing: Virgin!Franklin Saint x Virgin!Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, fluff, smut. PIV, oral (fem receiving), fingering (female receiving). College Franklin, established friendship. Drug use, alcohol use.

Summary: See Ask. Sharing the same math class, you and Franklin were constantly getting into trouble for laughing and talking so much. You developed a system, passing notes through your notebook. One day, you ask Franklin for a favor and he is only too happy to oblige.

Word Count: 5,831k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. Been sitting on that one for a while trying to figure out where I wanted to go with it. This ended up being so damn sweet. I remember getting a bunch of asks for Franklin in like...one night, lmfaoooo. Might be from the same person, who knows. I love you for it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @logansblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @tvchi @avoidthings @twocentuar @sageispunk @missdforever @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout

“Do I need to separate you two?” Mrs. Thorne asked. 

Franklin looked up from talking to you and smiled sweetly at the old crone. “No, ma’am,” he said. 

You smiled next to him, he could feel it from where he sat. Like rays from the sun warming up the whole classroom. It was a wonder that no one else could feel it. Sense it. You tend to make everything seem brighter, more colorful, or overall just better in general. 

Franklin was crushing bad. Which still caught his breath sometimes when he thought of it. At first, you were just another girl in his math class. Beautiful. But clearly way out of his league. 

The more you sat beside him, smelling like buttery cake, the more you warmed up and started talking to him. Laughing with him. Hell, you were so damn funny and quick. Your smile was fast, genuine, and you were smart as hell. But his favorite feature on you after your smile had to be your ass. 

And you didn’t make it any better wearing those shorts of yours. The shorts stopped mid thigh, but it drove him insane. Waking his dick up every time you entered the room. There were times when he was as hard as a brick and had to stall, looking for an excuse to remain sitting while everyone else got up.

“There’s plenty of time outside of class to talk. In my classroom, you pay attention. Understood?” Mrs. Thorne asked. She peered over her cat-style glasses, lips pursed in irritation.

“Won’t happen again, Mrs. Thorne,” you said, just as sweetly.

Mrs. Thorne hummed and turned back to the chalkboard, wielding it like a weapon as she stabbed at the board, writing out an equation. 

Franklin looked over to you and you had a mischievous grin on your face. You reached into your backpack, pulled out a clean notebook, and started writing in it. Franklin was too busy watching you, wondering what you were up to, to notice whatever the hell Mrs. Thorne was on about today.

After another minute, you slid the notebook over to him. He read your pretty handwriting, momentarily distracted by the slope of your letters. He reread the message and tried not to grin. 

You: This way is much better. Birdy won’t suspect a thing.

Franklin wrote out his own message back, sliding it to you when finished. 

Franklin: You are a genius.

And so it began. You and Franklin tossed this notebook back and forth in class for weeks. Telling jokes, talking about everything under the sun. Franklin looked forward to math class. Dreamt of it. Even while awake. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, uplifting his spirits and made doing his homework actually pleasant. Because he knew that your smart ass would look over it with that adorable smile on your face. The way your nose pinched when you found a well placed error.

He liked when you chided him, sucking your teeth, and telling him that you knew he could do better. For now, you hadn’t caught on that he just liked you explaining things to him. At this point, you were his favorite show, book, and place to be all rolled into one. 

During the next class, you sat beside him with a weird look on your face. You were biting your lip and refused to look at him. 

“What’s wrong?” Franklin asked, settling into his seat as well and pulling out his math textbook. Students filed into the room as well, talking about their weekend plans and exchanging pager numbers. 

You looked around at everyone and shook your head. “What are your plans for the weekend?” You asked and smiled.

He knew you had something on your mind and wished that he could sit and truly talk to you. He wasn’t sure if you’d accept an invite from him to go grab coffee or speak for longer than five minutes before class and a few minutes after. 

Franklin shrugged his shoulders. “Probably hang with Leon or Kevin, see what they up to,” Franklin said.

You nodded and smiled. Franklin waited for you to say what you really wanted to say. His heart rate increased, imagining what it could be. Were you going to ask him something important? Like meeting up outside of class? Were you going to suggest studying together? Did you catch him finally, onto his game of intentionally giving the wrong answer? Not knowing was killing him and he wanted to ask.

He also didn’t want to come off as too intense. He had a tendency to take everything seriously, like a dog with a bone that wouldn’t quit. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this friendship that sprung up between the two of you. 

Class started, Franklin’s mind drifted as he paid attention to everything you did. The tap of your blue pen against your paper. The way you bit your nail. Fiddled with your gold hoop earrings. 

Midway through class, you slid the notebook you shared over to Franklin. You kept your eyes faced forward, odd for you. Franklin grabbed the notebook, opening it when the old bird turned to the chalkboard, chalk dust on the back of her sweater.

His eyes glazed over as he read your message but he did his best to keep his features calm. He rubbed the tips of his fingers however, leg itching to bounce. He needed an outward release, something to release the pent up anxiety in his veins. 

You: Have you ever had sex?

Shit. The hell was he supposed to say? Franklin was a virgin but men didn’t fess up to things like that. He told Kevin and Leon that he lost it back in high school, some random girl he met at the mall. They bought it, pumping his head up, and fessed up to their own hook ups. For sure, they all knew they were full of shit, but what else were they to do? 

Franklin swallowed around the huge lump in his throat. The pulsing beat of his heart in his neck as he wrote back to you.

Franklin: Of course, why?

He slid the notebook to you. You looked at his message for a second before you began writing. When done, Franklin took the notebook. 

You: I haven’t. Wanna hang Saturday and fix that? 

Franklin’s dick twitched. This couldn’t be real. Thank god he was sitting down, because that twitch was turning into a full blown erection, causing his jeans to stretch tight. He licked his lips, trying to think of anything boring. Nothing worked.

With that one sentence, you brought to the surface every filthy, nasty, disgusting thing he’d thought about doing to you. He’s had vivid fantasies of you bouncing on his dick, riding him, arching your back, and the way you’d look when he’d slide in. He’s thought about how you would sound, screaming his name. He’s fucked his hand often enough, picturing it sliding into you. He’s wanted your nails on his back, your toes curling because of him. 

Franklin: Can’t wait to show you a good time.

When you received the notebook and read his message, you sighed, finally turning those honeyed brown eyes towards him. You smiled wide, doing a little dance in your seat. Franklin tore off a piece of paper and wrote down Uncle Jerome’s house. No way was he bringing you to his mom’s house. The last thing he needed was his mom coming in, causing a ruckus, or making you feel uncomfortable.

There were too many emotions running through him. He was elated and scared and confused and excited. He needed to figure out what to do. He’d never done this before. He wanted your first time to be special and wonderful. Would you know if he was terrible?

Now, questions multiplied through his mind. Was his dick big enough? Would you like the way he stroked? How would he be able to tell if you came or not? Fuck. He was unsure, panicking, while you went on in the notebook, being extra adorable as you admitted you were nervous but confessed to liking him for some time. 

He was distracted, still not over the thought of getting to see you naked. Getting to see you beneath him. He wrote back that he liked you too, liked how smart and sweet you were. He’d never get over the way you smiled at him now. Letting your feelings play out all over your pretty face.

After class, his dick calmed down to not be an issue when he stood up. You patted his hand and smiled at him, promising that you couldn’t wait until Saturday came around. Shit, him neither.

For the next few days, Franklin did all the research he could. He had a few porn mags but what did that really tell him about fucking? He went to the porn store, looking for videos to research. He watched with the volume turned low in his dorm, watching what to do.

He bought a pack of condoms, practicing putting it on so that he wouldn’t seem like a loser in front of you. He’d never survive if you laughed at him for something like that. The thought of it sent him into a fit of hyperventilating. He needed more help. He needed an expert. 

Friday night rolled around and Franklin arrived at his uncle’s house. He walked up a few steps, the area quiet for once. There was still the background hood noises, cars passing, faint music, helicopters circling. But it was a still night. Franklin knocked on the screen door. 

There was the sound of heavy footsteps and then Jerome’s face came into view. “Nephew!” He exclaimed, a cloud of weed smoke erupting through the screen door. Franklin waved it and smiled.

“Hey, Unc,” he said.

Jerome opened the door wearing a white tank top and black sweatpants. His jheri curl was well intact, shaking with movement as Jerome opened the door. Franklin walked past, inside, where music played and there was an ashtray in the living room. The TV was on to something Franklin couldn’t see.

“Where’s Louie?” Franklin asked, turning around. 

Jerome waved his hand. “She down visiting her sister. Said she was getting tired of seeing my face,” Jerome laughed, like he was remembering a private joke. 

“Good. I got a favor to ask,” Franklin said. 

Jerome laughed, leaning over the couch to get rid of his ashes. “Sounds serious, nephew,” he said. He grabbed the ashtray and his beer from the table and waved Franklin into the dining room. The wood table was large, covered in scattered papers, mail, or random water bottles.

Jerome had the side wooden door open, letting in a subtle breeze through the screen door. Jerome sat down with his ashtray and beer, still chuckling.

“Sort of,” Franklin said. He rubbed his hands on his khaki colored jeans, palms slick with sweat. This was so damn embarrassing. However, he didn’t have any other choice. Who knew where his father was? And if he was around, he wouldn’t ask that mu’fucker a damn thing. 

Franklin sat down and blew air out of his mouth, looking down at the table like it held all of the answers. “I need your help, there’s this girl…”

Jerome laughed and smacked the table. “I know that’s right, nephew,” he said and chuckled, taking a deep hit from the joint. He blew out the smoke and the room grew cloudy. 

Franklin told his uncle all about you. How you two started talking, how you’ve bonded the past few weeks. How much he thought about you and wanted to make you his. Jerome’s grin grew wider the more Franklin spoke, his eyes getting big from all of the pride pouring out. 

When Franklin finished, he rubbed his head. “I done did everything I can think of. But what if it’s not enough?” Franklin asked. Before, he hadn’t thought it would be this serious for him. When he found a girl that he wanted to have sex with, he thought he’d warm up to the idea. That he’d have a girlfriend and went on a few dates first. That he’d get to make out, touching and feeling first before diving in. 

“If this her first time, you ain’t gotta worry about all that. She ain’t got shit to compare it to,” Jerome said and chuckled. 

“Unc,” Franklin started. 

Jerome smiled. “Alright. How much do you like this girl? Like…you want to keep her or this a one-time thing?” Jerome asked.

“What you mean?” Franklin asked.

“There’s a lot of ways to have sex, nephew. It all depends on what you wanna do with this girl. If you just lookin’ to get your dick wet, best not to blow her mind too much. You don’t want her blowing up your pager or callin’ yo momma house looking for you.” 

“That can happen?” Franklin asked. He didn’t think there was nuance to sex. He’s had sex education. At the end of the day, wasn’t it just dick in vagina until both sides climaxed? What else was there? 

Jerome nodded, taking another pull of his joint and following it up with a swig of beer. “I once had this girl addicted to my dick. Had her ass screaming outside my momma’s house, threatening to throw herself into traffic unless I came outside,” he said. He howled with laughter, staring off to the side as he presumably re-lived that memory. 

“What happened?” Franklin asked. He couldn’t imagine you doing something like that, no matter what he did during sex. Did sex really change people like that? 

“Cissy told her to do it,” Jerome said and laughed. At Franklin’s expression, Jerome continued laughing and began choking. He coughed and hacked, putting the joint into the ashtray. “The girl was never going to do it. She was just dramatic. Point is, you can have this girl calling you daddy while you tear it up, or you can show her a good time and let her know that you’re the best she’ll probably ever have.” 

There wasn’t even a question. “I want her to be mine,” he said. His voice never sounded more sure, more arrogant even. If this went well, he hoped that you’d want to continue doing it. To continue talking to him outside of class. To spend months, years with him. To call you by his last name. He wanted that more than he wanted anything else. 

Jerome nodded, picking up his joint. “Are you sure? ‘Cause once you have an attack plan, you can’t be mad at the results,” Jerome said.

Franklin nodded and folded his hands on the table. He looked Jerome in the eye. “Tell me,” he said. 

“Alright, now there’s this thing they have called the clit…” Jerome began. He broke it down. Telling Franklin exactly what he needed to do to have you believing that he was an expert. A professional. The type of loving that was going to make you look at him differently. 

Franklin craved that. Needed that. He took in Jerome’s wealth of knowledge like a sponge, treating it like the most important class he’d ever take. Jerome reiterated things he’d seen in porn, but he went more in depth about it. Telling Franklin why certain things were done and what effect they’d have on you. Franklin couldn’t believe his ears. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

Afterward, Franklin thanked Jerome. “And about using your house…?” Franklin asked.

“I’ll get lost tomorrow, nephew. I got you. Clean the sheets when you done. I don’t need Louie thinkin’ it was me,” he said. 

“Thanks, Unc.” 

Franklin went back to his dorm with thoughts of you on his mind. He was tempted to relieve himself of the ache in his groin as he went to sleep. But he wanted to perform well for you. So he left himself alone and hoped he didn’t cream his pants at his latest wet dream.

Saturday rolled around and Franklin arrived at Jerome’s house too early. He made sure the place was clean and smelled nice, made sure the spare room was free of clothes and trash. He took a shower when he was done, and made sure his teeth were brushed. He couldn’t relax the whole day, checking and rechecking that everything was perfect for you.

Sharply at six, you knocked on the door. Franklin got the record playing working, sweet crooning filling the living room. He went to the door and opened it. 

He grinned at your sunshine yellow dress, ties at your shoulders in neat little bows. You smiled shyly at him, coming further inside. He closed and locked the door behind you. “You look beautiful,” he said.

You smiled and grabbed the hem, pulling it away from your thick thighs. “Is it weird I obsessed over what to wear?” You asked. 

“Only if it was weird for me too,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. “I don’t want you think I’m fast or anything,” you said.

Franklin shook his head, gesturing for you to take  seat. “I’ll never think that. If you don’t want to anymore, you don’t have to. We can watch TV or go grab some food,” he said.

“No! I want to! I…can’t think of anything else,” you said and smiled. You sat down on the couch and Franklin sat next to you, giving you a healthy amount of space in case you needed it. 

“Good,” Franklin said and smiled. He scooted closer and took your hand. “Tell me about your day.”

You laughed. “You don’t want to…?” You asked.

“Let’s get comfortable first,” he said. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. He heard the tiny gasp you made, which came back out in a cute sigh. Your shoulders dropped from your ears as you relaxed and began telling him about your day.

How you woke up too early, too sick to eat something. He loved how open you were about what you wanted. That you weren’t ashamed to share these things with him. He knew you were a blunt person, saying what you mean and meaning what you say. Still, it was so rare that people did so that his mind wandered, just enjoying the cadence of your voice. 

When you were finished, you were much more relaxed, talking and laughing with him. He moved from stroking your hand to stroking your exposed shoulder. The both of you sat further back on the couch, scooting closer the more you talked. 

Franklin’s face got closer to you, leaning in as you continued talking. Your eyes darted from his mouth to his eyes and he felt his heart lurch. It was working. He kinda liked seducing you. It allowed him to catalog every inch of you. Your reactions. He was able to tell that you were interested without even saying a word. 

He reached up with his hand, cupping your jaw and bringing your face closer to his. His dick throbbed in his jeans and nothing even happened yet. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

You gasped and then grinned, biting your lip. “Okay,” you giggled.

Franklin smiled but took his time, looking into your eyes for as long as he could before he closed them at the last second. He brushed his lips softly against yours, not fully kissing you yet. He waited for a beat, waited for that tiny inhale, before he pressed his lips more firmly. He kissed slowly at first, building up speed as you got into it. 

His breaths mingled with yours, your breath fanning across his face, and you gripped onto his shirt, pulling him closer. He went willingly, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. He held you in place and focused only on kissing you. Making out with you. You still smelled like buttery cake fresh out of the oven. He was obsessed. 

He pulled back to give you some air. You gasped, chest falling up and down. Franklin kissed your cheek, jaw, and neck, getting closer to the source of the smell. Was it perfume or lotion? Or body wash? Whatever it was, he wanted to buy you a crate of it. He never wanted to smell anything else on you.

He licked over your vein and you gasped, fist tightening against his shirt. He brought his hands down, grabbing and squeezing your thighs. You moaned, sweet music to his ears, and he squeezed some more. 

“Want to go lay down?” He asked.

You nodded, staring into his eyes. Jerome was right, you would look at him differently. He wondered if you’d look at him in a new way once he got going, once the clothes came off. He stood up, holding out his hand to you. You smiled, took his hand, and let him pull you up.

He walked around the couch, heading into the small hallway and then into the spare bedroom. He kept it open a crack so that you could hear the music still chiming from the living room. 

You sat down on his bed and he sat beside you, returning to kissing you. He placed his hand to your throat, turning your head to the side so that he could go back to smelling your scent and licking your neck. He knew better than to leave a hickey, but fuck, he wanted to. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his already.

“Take off this dress for me,” he whispered against your neck. 

You sighed, reaching behind you to grab the zipper. He watched as you did so, impressed with how easily you did so in this position. You stood up and let the dress fall from your shoulders. You didn’t wear a bra underneath, but you did have on cute yellow panties to match your dress. 

Franklin hummed in satisfaction and grinned at you. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he remarked.

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. “Really?” You asked.

Franklin grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to stand between his legs. “I swear. You’re gorgeous,” he said.

He stood up and turned you around so that your back legs hit the bed and he faced forward. He took a condom out of his pocket, tossing it onto the bed. He removed his shirt and his jeans, smirking at you and your reaction as you stared down his body. He stepped out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on and then stepped forward.

“Lay down on your back.” You blinked at him once and then grinned, climbing onto the bed. Watching your ass shake and jiggle as you faced away from him was too much. Too tempting. His dick throbbed painfully, a tent forming in his boxers. He sang something mundane in his mind, anything to stave off the need to cant his hips, humping the air. 

You flipped over onto your back, settling down and looking at him. He grinned and knelt on the bed, pushing and adjusting you until he had you where he wanted. He grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and placed it under your head. He grabbed the second pillow and placed it under your hips. You sighed as the pressure was taken off of your back. 

He grabbed your panties, pulling them off of your hips. He cooed as he got a little look at your pussy. You had hair and he could see it glisten in the low lighting. He licked his lips. Fuck, you smelled even better down here. A scent wholly unique to you. 

“Open them legs up,” he said.

You stared at him questioningly as you followed his command. “What are you…?” You asked.

Franklin grinned as he leaned forward onto his elbows. He watched the emotions play out on your face, the adorable pout in your lips, as you stared at him in confusion. He leaned between your legs and softly blew air across your exposed pussy.

You sighed, moving your hips. Franklin grinned. He teased your slit with his nose, trying to commit all of this to memory. If this was to be his last time between your legs, he wanted the memory to sustain him for years. 

He grabbed your thighs and held them open, as he rolled his tongue out and licked up your slit. “Oh shit!” You yelled. 

He chuckled, not expecting you to have a filthy mouth. He only found it more wonderful that he got to experience new things with you. Find new things you did every single day. He knew he sounded like a love-sick fool, but you were already so important to him. 

Franklin did the same thing to your pussy that he did while making out. He started slowly at first, trying to locate your clit like he truly was an expert. When you twitched and cursed, that’s when he knew he found the right spot. He swirled his tongue in circles, sucking on your clit and eliciting so many sounds from you. 

You clutched onto his head, pulling him closer while also trying to push him away. He was relentless, not giving you any slack to escape. He kept your thighs trapped, no matter how hard you pushed to trap his head between your thighs.

You grew wetter, juices spilling down his chin. He lapped all of it up. He couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted. He licked and licked, suckled, and slurped up your juices. Your moans were turning choppy. 

The tone of your moans changed, went into a panic mode. “Wait, I don’t think–what is–oh fuck, right there, right there. Don’t stop,” you screamed before you tensed up, thighs pushing against his hands.

You screamed loud, hips bucking, as you came on his tongue. He was wrong. This. This was his favorite. Tasting you as you came. Feeling your clit throb against his tongue. He’d happily drown between your legs. If he could eat you out every day he would. He would pay for the privilege to sit between your thighs and bring you pleasure over and over again. 

Franklin came up for air long enough to see your dazed face as you looked up to the ceiling. He chuckled as he returned to your pussy. You groaned and pushed at his head, but he continued. He moved his hand from your thigh to your pussy, getting his fingers instantly soaked in your essence. 

He pushed one finger inside and you bucked against him. “Oh, baby, gentle? Please. I know, I know you’re a pro but please,” you moaned. 

Franklin smiled, flicking his tongue against your clit. He moved his whole head, moaning into your pussy. His dick was about to explode in his shorts, he ground into the bed. He needed friction in the worst way. But he was determined to hold out. Determined for you to cum at least one more time. 

“I got you, baby,” he moaned. 

He pushed his finger in and out, mimicking fucking you. Your inner walls began to relax, allowing his finger to keep pumping. He eased a second finger in. You groaned, low and deep, as your hands fisted the blue sheets beneath you. 

He could study your reactions for the rest of his life and never get enough. You were so expressive. So pliant beneath his fingers. Shit, if sex was like this, he understood his Uncle’s stories now. He understood now why he and Louie sometimes looked at each other like they wanted to go at it right there, regardless of who was around. 

“Oh shit, oh shit. This–ah, so, s’good,” you cried out. Franklin smiled, pleased with himself. Though if you didn’t cum soon, he was worried that he might. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you. 

Franklin tried to remember all of the tricks Jerome told him about. Tried to remember that there was something else he could do besides suck on your clit. What was it? 

Your pussy clenched around his fingers and then it came to him. He flipped his wrist, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You exploded once more on his tongue, juices spilling out of you and coated his chin. He moaned, lost in the taste of you. The way your thigh shook against his head. He ground into the bed again, moaning into your pussy.

When you came down, Franklin pulled away from you. There was a long spit chain connecting you two. You had trouble looking at him. But fuck. You were so beautiful like this. Heaving heavy sighs and moans, twitching every so often like you were cooked. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could capture you like this. 

Franklin kissed up your body, taking time to lick on your nipples. You squirmed under him, tiny moans escaping your lips. He looked up to see the tortured bliss on your face. Your lips parted, moaning getting a little louder. 

Franklin licked up your essence that transferred from his chin to your nipple. “Still with me?” He asked.

Two tiny dips of your chin. “Oh god, that was…” 

Franklin chuckled. He climbed up your body, lining himself up between your legs. You groaned when he spread your legs wider. Groaned again when he pushed his knees up, so that your legs hung on the outside of his thighs. 

“I ain’t done with you yet,” he growled in your ear.

“Shit,” you moaned. You chuckled, panting for breath, and then looked back at him. “Damn.”

Franklin smiled, leaning down to kiss you. He couldn’t resist how cute you were. He leaned up on his knees, hunted through the sheets to locate the condom he tossed. He opened the package, pushed down his boxers, and rolled it on exactly as he saw in the videos he watched. 

He looked at you, at how wide you looked at his dick. He smiled. “I’ll fit, don’t worry,” he said.

“You can’t read my mind!” You said and giggled. He chuckled, settling back between your thighs. 

“We’ll go slow, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, bringing your hands to rub at his shoulders. He leaned on his hands, bringing one to his dick so that he could push into you.

He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. Fuck. Just the tip and he wanted to slam home. He would never do anything to hurt you though, so he took his time. You squeezed his arm, nails digging in, as he slid in inch by solid inch. 

He watched your face. Your mouth tightened in pain, but your eyes were staring up at the ceiling. You had an adorable crease in your forehead as you concentrated. Once he couldn’t move anymore, he stopped so that you could adjust to his size. You squeezed his dick periodically, melting against the feeling of him being inside.

“Okay?” He asked.

You nodded and licked your lips. “I’m okay. Kinda hurts but you can keep going,” you said.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded. “I’m sure.” You smiled at him and brought your lips to his, giving him a smacking kiss. He smiled and continued to kiss you, pulling out and then slowly sliding back in. He repeated this as many times as you needed, before you were crying for him to go faster.

He pushed his hips faster, pushing in and out of you and listening to your cries. Your moans. He paid attention to when you dug your nails in and when you let go. When you dug your nails in, he kept hitting that same spot.

Your eyes flew open, staring at him like he stole something from you. You rocked with the force of his hips.

“Franklin! Franklin!” You moaned.

Shit. Could he make you cum once more before he shot his load? He wanted to cum so badly. His balls were heavy and slapped against your entrance. The wet smack of your pussy was driving him insane. His dick throbbed as you squeezed around him, teeth chattering from all the moaning you were doing. 

“Don’t stop Ohhh, baby, don’t stop!” You yelled out.

Little did either of you know, Jerome had to swoop by the house for something. He wasn’t sure if you or Franklin were done or not, but hell, it was his goddamn house. He crept inside though, feeling like an asshole for sneaking around his own spot.

Once inside, he figured there was no use for sneaking. Between his nasty record playing, the headboard banging, and your moaning, Franklin was a good student. Jerome retrieved his extra stash of cash in his room, listening to the way you were moaning out Franklin’s name.

Pride made Jerome puff his chest out, shaking with silent laughter. “Get it nephew,” he chuckled as he left the house and hopped back in the car.

You and Franklin were none the wiser as you yelled in Franklin’s face, eyes wide, and body twitching beneath him. No longer able to play it cool, Franklin came with a vengeance. Sweet relief hit him as he came, as his cum shot out of him and into the condom. 

He moaned, collapsing against your neck. That buttery cake smell teased his nostrils and he breathed it in deeply. Your skin was damp with sweat and still, he kissed your neck before sliding out of you.

He was sensitive from cumming, back bowing as he slid all the way out. He squeezed the condom as he took it off, a neat drop of cum inside. He tied it off, throwing it into the nearest trash can. 

He snuggled back onto the bed with you, kissing your arm and then your cheek. You yawned and turned to him. “Fuck! Franklin! Damn!” You said comically, making him snort with laughter. 

“Was it okay for you?” He asked. He still needed that little bit of validation. He needed to hear you say that you enjoyed it, that he interpreted all of your signs correctly. 

“Okay? Franklin, that was intense and weird and fuck, I feel amazing! I,” you said and then bit your lip. You got to your elbows and looked quickly at him. “I want to do it again.”

Franklin chuckled. “I do too. But gon’ need a minute,” he said while he caught his breath. Maybe he needed thirty minutes. He was spent and didn’t know how he was going to recover so soon. To give you more. But damn if he didn’t want to try.

He pulled you closer to him, aligning your head into the crook of his arm. “You know I got you girl,” he said and smiled at the ceiling. He’d try to give you anything you asked for. Whether it be another orgasm, food, the moon, or a pencil. He’d give you anything in the world so long as he got to call you his. 

Always more Franklin to love! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

[doudouma]

Heyo! I'd like to request a top three upper moon x s/o! Reader who is kind of mad at them and refuses to cuddle them (but ends up the one cuddling when they thought that they fell asleep- which they didn't.)

“wait, i thought you were sleeping?!”

upper3 reaction to you cuddling them but you’re angry! _______________________________________________

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

you’re upset at the upper moon trio (separate), but you cuddle them when you thought they fell asleep〜

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

↑ (reader spooning character, if you’re worried about that.)

reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : for some reason, i couldn’t comprehend this request. after all, it was late at night〜apologies my lotus, this request is cute！

！anon, i want to apologize to you. right when i finished writing, i reread the request and realized i slightly misunderstood it, and i do not know how to fix it. i decided to post it anyways. m(_ _)m

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

kokushibo

kokushibo.. your straight-forward silent lover…

he knows why you could potentially be upset, but doesn’t see the purpose of being upset about it.

you were upset at something that happened earlier, and tried to ask for a solution from your beloved〜

he gave you your answer, alright.. but he worded it in a way that might’ve made it seem like it was your fault on what happened.

he didn’t try to! he just tried to get you to realize where exactly it went wrong.

now… he’s just waiting in anticipation for your response.

but instead, you just sit there just trying to pinpoint what his goal in mind was. looking a more upset than before.

forgetting it all, you end up heading to bed, attempting to just relax.

drifting off to sleep (if you’re able to sleep), you suddenly remember that your lover didn’t join you to bed. will a small disagreement split the two of you up into separate rooms tonight?

your eyes quickly widen and see that kokushibo is there, but with his back facing you.

when did he even get in here?! it looks like he’s been here for a minute too. sneaky uppermoon one…

now that you’re relieved, you move closer to him, and place your arm around him to his heart♡

he slightly smiles, only smiles. eventually he tells you as he rest his eyes..

“i apologize for the way i initially communicated with you. we may talk this out tomorrow, with less misunderstandings, (name).”

douma

douma wouldn’t understand why you’re mad at him!

teasing is just his nature! no matter how harsh it is, to him, he’s only speaking out of love.

which he is, but.. he doesn’t consider that other people could find it offensive or annoying.

he’ll listen when you voice your opinion on his absurd way of showing love, but, it’ll only result in more teasing〜

eventually, you get too fed up with his cockiness and foul teasing to the point where you just go to bed! without him!

even while upset at your love, you do fairly want him by your side, even if he is being a little s- -

- -so like i said, he wouldn’t fully understand on why you’re upset, so he’s not giving you any personal space.

therefore, he ends up joining you in bed〜

in bed where it feels like forever, with the both of you facing opposite ways.

you silently look over, and to what it seems like he’s “sleeping”.

soon enough you flip over and spoon him, while a smirk appears on doumas face, as he places his hand on top of yours♡

somehow in a span of three seconds, now he’s spooning you, hugging you while saying,

“oh, my love! i knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for too long〜 oh how much i’ve missed you♡”

akaza

akaza is aware of where this all went wrong, but in his brain (if demons have one atp) he just tried to help.

today was just not the day for you.

maybe someone was being annoying, you lost a fight, woke up on the wrong side of the bed, who knows.

whatever happened, akaza was determined to fix it, because he only wants his lover to be happy!

but… you just wanted to be alone. sometimes alone time is all you need〜

but akaza kept bringing you things you like, kept staying near you, and kept asking if everything was alright♡

you accepted his kindness and offers, but you genuinely just wanted to be alone to recharge, but your lover being persistent as he is only made you feel more annoyed.

you expressed that, but he just kept following you like a lost puppy!

in due time, you end up vaguely telling off akaza for “pestering” you and how you just had a awful day.

he stands there, with a blanket and pillow in his hand, not saying a word as you walk off to bed… and he follows you.

he tucks both of you to bed, and you both lay there facing opposite ways.

you lay there, thinking over your day. you shortly realize that akaza was there for you even at your lowest, but you didn’t see it because you were already upset.

you turn around, and swiftly spoon the “sleeping” akaza, holding his hand〜

he lets out a little chuckle and caresses your hand to tell you,

“i’m sorry for ruining your day even further. but i’m glad to be here for you now. sometimes just a hug is all you need, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

besides me accidentally messing this up, the request was fun to write! i’m trying to dive into other fandoms and post more often. i look forward into having your support, my precious flowers.❀ 〜

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

jason trying to flirt and reader freaking out gives me life. (dw jason i bet she wants to kiss you too (if she doesnt i might))

When you hesitated to name a book, afraid of being mocked maybe. Or afraid to be vulnerable, Jason took a shot in the dark. Looking up at the shelves. Looking for something well loved. Something you'd keep where you could reach it whenever you wanted comfort. Something you held close to your heart. That you'd read and reread. Worn but not destroyed. Venerated. It would almost feel like something sacred.

Every lonely kid had that book.

And when he locked eyes on it, he smiled. He got up off the floor and walked across the room, aware that he was being watched. He could feel a prickle of warning. A crackle of anxiety tugging at him. And he forced himself to breathe. Yeah, it was a kiddie book. A whole set of them. But, you liked books with happy endings.

"Convert me?" Jason hummed, "I never really liked fairy tales."

"No?"

"It's kinda hard to worry about chivalry when you live like I did," he said sitting back down- suppressing a pang with difficulty. He hadn't thought about his mom and dad in a long time. He kept them buried. It was easier. To not remember the way cancer had a smell. And the way that without insurance drugs just managed the pain. And his dad drank because it hurt. And because it hurt and he drank he couldn't hold a job. And because he couldn't hold a job he just kept doing crimes.

Books had to have a point. Fairy tales and delicate little "girl books" felt ephemeral and frivolous. Austen. Shelley. Poe. Homer. Christie. All that had a point.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's alright," he said exhaling roughly. It wasn't about him. And when he felt you try to pull back, trembling from the strain he shook his head and sank to the floor. "Don't worry about me, okay. Not right now anyway."

"It hurts-"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But if I read this for a while maybe I'll forget-"

"You can borrow-"

"I was going to read it to you," he mumbled, cheeks heating. He meant to just come in and start doing it. He'd hoped you'd just curl up with him and doze off.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" he asked, not sure what to make of your reaction. Or your feelings. They're still a snarl- and mostly self-hatred.

"Yeah," you murmur. "Your voice is nice when you're not being mean."

[grapejuicestyless]

We Can Run Away

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: She was everything he ever wanted, and she was clueless about everything he ever was. And somehow, they understood each other all because of the subway.

Harry usually wasn’t one to take the subway after a long night. Often, he was in some black van on his way to his bed minutes after he sang out the last note, the crowd still roaring with excitement from the set inside as he departed from the venue. But tonight, Harry was still wide awake after his set finished. Instead, he’d stayed behind, fixing things up backstage until the very last fan had left the arena, leaving Harry almost completely alone in the large space that was once filled with the love and laughter of anxious fans screaming his name.

So tonight, Harry decided to walk among the quiet folk and take the empty train back to where he was staying for the night. The subway only ran this late on nights like tonight. Nights where people were destined to be out late, living their young lives dancing in the pit and accompanying their children in the nosebleeds.

Harry hopped on the last train home, the emptiness of the car relaxing, his bag settled down beside him and a book on his lap. He found the atmosphere was a perfect place for him to wind down from his extended high, to tire him out and help him doze off peacefully tonight.

There was only one other person with him late at night. A young woman who wore frayed jeans shorts, boston clogs with bunched up socks, and the deepest red sweatshirt he’d ever seen. She looked like she wasn’t aware of the time, wide awake with a calm smile on her face as if the day was brand new.

The morning had just began to roll around, but darkness still covered the sky. Not even breaking three a.m. yet and still, she could have fooled him into believing it was nearly noon if not for the emptiness surrounding them.

She was no bother to Harry though, so he patiently flipped through his book, rereading some of the pages because his mind wandered off in the middle of the paragraphs and he couldn’t focus. But just before he decided to set the book down for the night and enjoy the rest of the ride, a soft voice spoke up.

“I love that book.”

Harry looked up to see the calm girl looking back at him. She had red lips and gentle eyes. The kind that pulled you in if you looked too deeply. The kind any person would trust blindly, and the kind that held a complex kind of innocence in them.

At first, he simply nodded, unaware of what he was supposed to say and not up for a conversation, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the captivating girl across from him.

“A Little Life, right?” The girl asked, persistently looking for a small conversation to fill the gaps of silence on the short ride across the city.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. “You have good taste.”

The girl simply shrugged.

“It’s a classic, right? I think everyone should read it at some point.”

“I don’t think everyone would enjoy it, it’s a little slow.” Harry commented, enjoying hearing the girls voice.

“Maybe.” The girl shrugged again, “But that’s what makes this one so good. It makes everything feel more real when it takes time for everything to crash down. The fall doesn’t happen overnight.” She defended.

“I take it you really love this book then.” Harry laughed quietly at the conversation.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

The train fell quiet again, but Harry couldn’t have gone back to reading if he tried. He placed the bookmark between the pages and instead took time to admire the way the book looked between his hands.

“I love the cover too. I wish I took that photo every day.”

Harry raised a brow, observing the cover more closely than he had before.

“I’m a photographer.” The girl added, and Harry hummed.

“What kinds of photos do you take?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I mainly help with shoots for magazines. Vogue, Rolling Stone, Elle. I’ve been around the industry for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I help take photos for movies, which is cool, but mainly I just take photos for myself nowadays. You know, just letting my friends play dress up and creating the things I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

With the way she spoke about her job, Harry had not a single doubt that she held the most sincere love for the art she worked within. The kind girl talking quietly, but quickly about what she did and why she loved it, Harry wished she had kept rambling to him so he could have kept listening.

“What about you?” The girl asked suddenly, catching Harry off guard. He stumbled around for an answer before deciding on something vague.

“I work in music. I sing.” Harry nodded his head, watching how the girls eyes lit up in interest.

“That’s so cool, do you play shows ever?” The girl asked and Harry couldn’t help but bite back a laugh. He was sure he had glitter from his outfit he danced around stage in stuck to his face still and feathers from boas curled in his hair.

“Sometimes, yeah.” Harry smiled at the girls innocence.

“Do you play around here ever?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Harry smiled.

“I’m just trying to pass time.” The girl responded quickly. “So do you?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, sometimes.”

The girl hummed.

“I’m Y/n, by the way.” She extended her hand, and Harry mouthed her name back to her after she’d spoken it. Just to see how it would feel on his tongue.

“I’m Harry.” She repeated his name softly like an echo as he took her hand in his to shake it.

The robotic voice announced the final stop, and Harry watched as Y/n stood in a way that mirrored his movements. He figured he didn’t mind the fact that his walk home wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought, and in fact, he found himself silently praying that she would walk the same way as him as they stepped onto the platform.

“I hope you’re not following me, Harry.” Y/n joked as their footsteps fell into sync, sweaty palms shoved into their front pockets and their eyes adverting each others.

“Maybe I just want to know more about you.” Harry smiled. He decided he liked the way Y/n made him feel. Like he was desperate for the next sentence to come out of her mouth. Like he needed to know what she had to say. But maybe he was just getting tired.

“There’s not much else to know. I live a pretty boring life, I think you’ll find.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I didn’t say there was.” Y/n smiled, and Harry found himself blushing.

“I think the quiet can be good.” Y/n stated softly, looking at the way her feet fell between the large squares on the sidewalk. “It can be lonely, and that can be sad sometimes, but I don’t really mind it if I get to keep my peace.” She explained thoughtfully.

“Do you think about this often?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“When you live alone you have the time to think about a lot of things.” She responded, and Harry simply nodded.

“I like the quiet life too. It’s nice to step into the storm once in a while and see where you get dragged, but it’s nice to know where you’ll end up in the morning without a doubt.”

Y/n hummed at Harry’s response.

“I used to party a lot in college.” She laughed at herself. “Which is hard to believe now because I feel like my back was broken by a thousand bricks somewhere in my mid twenties but, I get what you mean. It was fun when it was cool, and when I had people I liked going out with. But I think I’d much rather prefer to know I’ll end up in my own bed in the morning.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the girl beside him. Her toothy grin and her crinkles by her eyes. Harry imagined her a few years back, he imagined taking her to all the best spots in the city he could rack off in his mind. He figured she would be the life of the party. She made him feel like the subway was some first class plane ride and the trash rolling beneath his feet was golden.

“Are you always this talkative?” He laughed softly.

She shrugged.

“My mom would agree. She said when I was younger I would talk to anything that had ears. Sometimes she’d catch me pulling the grass outside because I liked to braid it, and she said I would be talking to myself. But I always told her I was talking to the butterflies.” She laughed at herself.

“What about you? Do you always entertain strangers on the subway?”

“Well, we aren’t really strangers anymore.” Harry argued. Y/n smiled at him.

“I guess not.” She shook her head thoughtfully.

“I don’t, usually, though.” Harry sighed. “But you’re nice enough. Easy to talk to, I guess.”

“Anyones easy to talk to when they can’t shut up.” She joked, and Harry simply laughed at her for the millionth time.

“I guess so.”

As their laughter fizzled out into giggles, a warm silence wrapped around them, the humidity of the summer air sticking to their skin like glue. Harry caught Y/n’s eye every few steps, swallowing repeatedly as if by doing so, he would think of something else to say.

“Are you from here?” She asked softly.

“Somewhat. What about you?”

She shook her head.

“I’m from the east coast. The United States.” She said softly.

“Why’d you leave?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“The city wasn’t for me. I wanted to live by a beach so I left to where I could find that. But then I guess that wasn’t what I wanted either. I think maybe I was made for the city, just not…that one.” She sighed in the middle of her sentence, like the memory of home was daunting to her.

“What about London? What drew you to it?” Harry asked softly.

Y/n shrugged, her eyes flickered to the ground.

“It reminded me of home without having to be there.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, but she didn’t really seem sad when she said it. Almost like it was some kind of relief.

“My mom said there was something really wrong with me when I was a kid, but I’ve always liked who I am.” She smiled up at Harry honestly, holding her hands in her palms.

“You know, I like that I can talk for hours, I like that I apologize all the time, I like that I’ve lived out my twenties the way I should have. I like when my bangs grow past my ears, and I like running because it reminds me of running in the park, and I’m not sorry because I love the girl who looks back at me in the mirror because she’s a collection of everything she’s ever loved and I think thats neat.” She ranted, a smile on her face the whole time, and breathy laughter escaping her lips.

Harry wanted to say something, to smile and agree that he also enjoyed her sticking around, but she had stopped a few feet back, her shoes wiping against a small brown doormat with no welcoming message painted on it.

“This is my stop.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Harry asked desperately from afar, like he couldn’t enter her space if he tried.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I really like the person you are too, I’d like to see you again.” He added, his words quick and desperate.

“You know where I live, Harry.” She stated simply, a smile on her face.

And it was true, he did. But she wasn’t on his way home. He’d passed his house a few blocks back, and somehow he hadn’t even noticed.

“What if you leave again?” He couldn’t help but ask.

She simply smiled.

“We can run away together.”

[idlerin]

love sick — 07. pretty please

romance 101; guideline #4 — communication is important (04/24/XX note: not overused, just real)

note: i know that house parties are very uncommon in japan but let's just add this in for sole fiction, also reminder that images used as reader doesn't depict their actual features/appearance! just imagine using the same clothes hehe

the final whistle signaled the TU blazer’s win, gleeful cheers and shouting were what filled the arena and you couldn’t help but jump up and down, getting caught up in the momentum as well. your hands gripped the railing as your eyes scanned the area looking for your fake boyfriend, you eventually found him talking to atsumu at the side of the court. the latter had then at a sudden pointed in your direction with the familiar stupid smile on his face that only made your eyes squint wondering what they were talking about.

you met suna’s gaze as collateral when your eyes shifted from previously sneering at atsumu. suna was looking at you with that same old deadpan expression on his face, you then decided to flash him a smile and blew him a kiss. you mouthed ‘catch it’ lifting your arm and motioning what he should do, he obediently followed which made you laugh.

“mhm,” you hear semi hum from beside you, he was leaning on the railing observing your little exchange with a brow raised.

“what?” you ask, he only shook his head as an answer. weird.

“I’ll assume you’re going to the after-party?” semi said instead, you blinked trying to recall where it was taking place. you vaguely remember atsumu inviting you guys there around a week or two ago. they usually have one after a big match, you didn't even know this match is one of those "big matches" of the season, whatever that means. semi usually goes because his bandmates drag him there, he tries to drag you along (and sometimes succeeds, albeit rarely) but you were usually firm about staying hauled up in your room.

“the.. after-party.. right! I have to go there,” you ponder, it would be a bit strange if suna’s girlfriend didn’t go to a party celebrating his team’s win. you didn’t know if suna was a party go-er but making an appearance once wouldn’t be too bad.

“so now you can’t use yona of the dawn as an excuse,” semi referenced the time you said you couldn’t go with him because you were going to reread a manga you liked.

“hey that’s valid, it’s over two hundred chapters and I need time for that,” you defend yourself, arms out in the air. in the corner of your eye, some people kept looking at you, you could only assume that it was because of suna’s last name plastered on the back of your shirt.

you take this as a great opportunity once again, “wait I’ll go and greet rinnie! he should be waiting for me!” you say louder than needed as you pat semi’s shoulder and give him a wink before passing by him and running down the stairway.

you admit that you find it rather amusing to act clingy. you have always been clingy to your friends so it wasn’t really like stepping out of your comfort zone.

you ran quickly once you saw suna who was now talking to a teammate you didn’t know (you briefly thought where the hell atsumu went but that’s not one of your priorities right now) as you called out, “rinnie!” with a big smile on your face.

suna turned in your direction, almost faltering but caught you just in time when you jumped on him for an embrace, “congrats on winning the game! I knew you guys would win!”

"hey," was his only response, most likely because he didn't know what else to say. one of his hands that were placed underneath your thighs to hoist you up was raised to your waist as he placed you down, you took this as a cue to converse with his teammate.

"hi! I'm [name]!" you introduce yourself cheerfully with your arms still looped around suna's neck. you notice the teammate eyeing the skinship you've been initiating with suna. you presume this was because it'd still be new to him seeing suna allowing a person to be all over him. hm.

"yo, I'm hotaru. I've already heard lots about you," he winks, crossing his arms while looking at suna teasingly as if you weren't there. It brought a laugh out of you as you used one of your hands to point at suna, acting bewildered.

"from him?" you decided to take it up a notch, poking suna's cheek. at this point, you were just enjoying playing around with him since you knew he would never let anyone do this to him otherwise.

"of course not, bro doesn't like to share," hotaru laughed.

"I don't have to," suna replies, he lightly pinches you using the hand that was wrapped around your waist. you didn't waver, you continued to have a big smile on your face as you used your left hand to lightly tug on the back of his hair as payback.

"you're hard to not know, resident cupid," hotaru comments, which makes you genuinely bashful for a second.

before you could respond, suna beat you to it, "you go ahead."

at first, you thought he was talking to you, but then hotaru responds, "ah sure, don't take too long or the coach will get mad," he waves before disappearing from view.

"we're going to have a short meeting then I'll have a quick shower," suna answers the question you haven't been able to voice out yet. that’s going to take around an hour then, you think.

"oh," you purse your lips, "what do I do while waiting then?" you let your arms fall because it was starting to ache.

"you can leave?" suna suggests like a smartass, he picks up a water bottle on one of the benches.

"are we not going to the after-party? I think we should, don't you guys host those?" you say, a skip in your step as you follow him.

"I forgot about that, and the players aren't the ones who host them. you think we have the time?" suna gave you that ‘duh’ look once again, rude, "It's going to start later, around eight or nine."

you check your phone and see it was only six.

"I'll go back to the dorms and get ready first then," you say, already thinking of what you should wear that would be both comfortable and stylish. probably some jeans and the first cute top you find.

"okay. just text me when you're done so I can pick you up," he says, looking off to the side, you were almost tempted to see what caught his attention.

"sounds like a plan, boss," you threw that one line in as a jab, it made the corner of his lips twitch and you were glad for the tiny reaction. an idea pops in your head and you catch him off guard, on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek, "see you later."

you step back and watch him just stare at you, you give him one last small smile before turning to leave.

as you approach, you watch as suna stares you down in the lobby of your residence, you ask—but not before looking around you (thankfully you were just surrounded by a few people minding their own business)—in a hushed tone, “why are you frowning?”

“I’m not frowning,” suna states the obvious in the same hushed tone as you, because he was indeed, not frowning but there was something in the air around him you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“you practically are, care to share why you’re in a mood?” you reach out your hand to him, and he looks at it once before looking back at you, you shake your hand again, he finally gets the hint and holds it.

this is where he decides to just start pulling you along towards his car, ignoring your question, “not going to share then, okay, I understand,” you murmur under your breath as he opens the door for the passenger seat.

“thank you,” you say as you go inside and suna goes around the car to get in the driver’s seat. Something clearly happened in the two hours you weren’t together, you pushed down your curiosity because it was none of your business.

“you have to promise me another thing when we get there,” you bring up a topic in an attempt to lighten up the mood. 

suna starts the car and points to you, using a sharp tone he says, “what is it? and put on your seatbelt.”

“sorry,” you hurriedly put your seatbelt on while recalling another trope in the car where the main guy puts the seatbelt on the female lead and they stare in each other’s eyes and it’s usually a scene regarded with tension and—you were getting sidetracked, your fake boyfriend was obviously not in the mood and you weren’t sure what you could and couldn’t say, “anyways, you should do everything I ask when we get there. we have to prove to them that you’re smitten with me.”

“are you asking me to act like some loyal puppy dog?” he begins to drive and you look out your side of the car window, seeing the familiar greenery you pass by every day fade into the background. atsumu briefed you about the location of the party and everything through a call earlier because he was already there, it was being held in one of the houses of a player’s friend’s cousin (you don’t completely understand the relations) and it was a fifteen minute drive away.

“well, if you want to put it that way, then yeah,” just eight more minutes of this slightly suffocating silence, you don’t know what happened to him but it must have been pretty bad.

“sure,” was the only thing he said before the car ride was engulfed in silence once more.

you begin to pick on the hem of your shirt, the eerie quietness was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. usually at times like these you would think up conversation starters but you didn’t know if attempting to make conversation would make it worse.

a couple of minutes passed but it felt like an eternity, soon enough you were blocks away from a huge white house. If the people going in and out weren’t proof that this was the right destination, the loud music surely was. this does look like an ideal place to have a party, it was isolated but near the college.

you haven’t been to a lot of places aside from when eita invites you to watch his gigs from time to time, or when shimizu takes you around (when she actually has free time), or when atsumu ropes you in to going to weird events (like a trampoline one two months ago). kageyama was completely volleyball brained and surprisingly, you had to be the one to drag him to places. despite being known as campus cupid and making a lot of friends and interacting with a lot of people in general because of it, there were really only a few people in your circle.

“how long do we have to be here?” suna asks, turning off the engine. you glanced at him and saw how he had his deadpan expression again.

“an hour I guess?” you were a bit more hesitant with the way you spoke, you cleared your throat, “I’ll be more touchy once we go outside, is that okay?”

“yeah?” suna questioned, removing his seatbelt and taking out his keys, “we’ve already talked about this, anything is fine. you were doing it just fine earlier.”

“ah yeah, sorry, it’s just I didn’t know if you were up for it right now,” you grasped at the edge of your seat, you started to look everywhere but him.

“why do you think that?” did he really have to ask that? you flash a smile.

“nothing. let’s go,” you awkwardly scramble out of your seatbelt and try to open the car door but to no avail.

“[name],” suna said.

“yes?” you managed to squeak out.

“you’re acting nervous,” he points out.

you purse your lips, “no I’m not,” heavy with denial.

“yes you are,” he insists.

“no I’m not,” you deny again, a shake of your head.

“you can’t even look me in the eye. you realized you have feelings for me? that was quick,” he began to tease.

your eyebrows furrowed, “no way!” an appalled expression on your face as you glared at him.

“there we go,” suna nodded, “look me in the eye. It’d be weird if you couldn’t even be able to do that, much less make them believe we’re actually a couple.”

“it’s not my fault okay! I don’t know how to act around you when you’re… nevermind. let's just do this,” you try to open the door again and succeed this time.

you start walking towards the house when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, “don’t go ahead and leave your boyfriend.”

suna said this in a more playful tone which made you relax, you caught his eye and he was looking at you as if waiting for you to say something, “you ready, rinnie bear?” you smirk and decide this was much better. you’ll ignore the strange interactions from earlier, you should focus on facing a bunch of other things after all, like how to interact with his teammates for one, hopefully atsumu would make it easier for you, kageyama likely isn’t here because he wasn’t allowed (you don’t think he’d be here even if he were).

“you have to quit that, couldn’t you have chosen something more normal?” suna swiftly guided you out of the way when you were about to bump into someone. you hadn’t even noticed you were about to go in the front door now, the music was louder than ever.

“like what? babe?” you laugh, shouting a bit.

“yeah, babe,” suna smirks and looks in front of you guys. that’s when you see a familiar looking girl—one of his admirers, she didn’t even acknowledge you guys and turned to walk away.

your mouth hung open, “you totally did that on purpose,” you accuse.

“no,” he shook his head, guiding you more towards the middle where you see a group of guys huddled and drinking, “was convenient though.”

“sweetheart!” atsumu hollered once he saw you, he was already drunk. his face was slightly flushed because of his alcohol intake but he looked like he was still sane enough, you gauged.

“she’s not your sweetheart,” suna rebutted, acting like the overprotective boyfriend type, you approved.

someone from beside atsumu started cackling, “you heard that, ‘tsum, not your sweetheart,” clearly he was getting amused.

“hey ‘tsumu,” you acknowledge your friend who was pouting, “unfortunately, you can’t call me sweetheart anymore, my rinnie won’t allow,” you pretend to be disappointed, leaning on suna’s chest.

“atsumu, you owe us,” one of the guys on the further left of the couch holding a can of beer said, “you didn’t tell us suna was dating anyone! for—how long has it been?” the question was directed at you.

“about five months now,” you say the first number that comes to mind, you knew you should’ve discussed your relationship lore with him first. you’ll bring it up when you two are alone.

“almost half a year! and this guy didn’t bother to tell us anything,” the guy shakes his head.

“It’s my privacy,” suna shifts his hand on your shoulder down to your waist, “atsumu, give [name] your seat.”

atsumu, who was bringing out his phone, “eh?” you then meet eyes with him, he raised his hands in defeat and stood up. he motioned exaggeratedly for you to sit down, “here’s the seat, ‘yer highness.”

“thanks,” you take a seat and look up at the two guys at your disposal, maybe this was the right time to use your newly acquired superpower (ordering suna around), you were starting to get a bit thirsty, “rin?” you call out, he was mid-argument with atsumu.

“yeah?” it was comical how he switched up, glad to know he was in tune with you.

“can you get me some water?” you ask sweetly, the others are silent as they watch the exchange between you two.

“after I get you a seat?”

“It was my seat,” atsumu comments on the side. the both of you ignore him.

“pretty please?” you said, giving him a teasing smile. remember when you said you would do anything I asked, we had an agreement. do it. do it. your eyes seemed to say.

“alright, I’ll be quick,” suna said, he then looked at his teammates, “don’t give her a hard time,” he waved them off before leaving.

“can you believe that guy? he would grumble if I asked him to hand me a towel,” atsumu complains, leaning his head back to emphasize his exasperation.

“we found suna’s weakness,” the same guy from earlier cackled.

you proceeded to have a conversation with him—who you learned was named reiki—and the other guys. they were all nice to you with the exception of atsumu who kept bantering with you. you shut him down every time, which was partly because he could never think of a reply quickly enough in his current state. they continued to tell you all sorts of antics suna initiated in practices, like the time he started an argument about who was the most attractive player on the team, there were real-time polls and everything.

“I’m curious!” shiizu exclaimed, you and the others turned your attention to him, “how do your matchmaking services work?”

“you finally interested in having a love life?” atsumu says, a brow raised.

“well,” you start, “a lot of people seem to think that I can magically get two people together, but that’s not really the case,” the other guys started to quiet down to listen to you, “usually, a person would email me with their worries and I’d try to respond in the best way I can. sometimes they bring up wanting advice or I ask if they want advice and it starts there. sometimes they would want help in person or wanting to do this or that for someone and I’d recommend things or brainstorm ideas with them. it all depends on whether their feelings get reciprocated or not. that’s all I can say about the ‘matchmaking’ part.”

“ooh that’s cool, you put a lot of time and effort into it then,” shiizu nods, thinking contemplatively.

“yeah,” a genuine smile starts to form, “people who are already in relationships also approach me just for some advice or like just wanting to sort out their feelings. I’m just glad if I could be of help.”

“how’d suna end up with an angel with that personality of his,” reiki shakes his head.

“rin is really sweet,” you put your fake boyfriend on a pedestal with just one phrase.

“sweet and rin are not words you hear in a single sentence,” shiizu points out.

a whole conversation starts about how lemons were sweeter than rin, you defend him to the best of your abilities by saying fake scenarios. like how he holds your hand without having to ask (after having a staring contest) and how he likes it when you call him pet names (because he would literally want anything other than rinnie bear).

suna was taking a while just to get you water so you began searching for him, he was supposed to get back within minutes and you were supposed to show off how obediently he would follow you. mid-conversation with jai—one of the players—you excuse yourself, “uhm I’ll go to the bathroom for a bit, can you tell rin when he gets here?”

“alright will do, he is taking a while,” reiki nods, “the bathroom is just over there at the end of the hall,” he points to the side.

you nod and smile in thanks, you wander around the bodies of people laughing and having fun with their friends, but to no avail, still no sign of rin. how difficult was it to get a glass of water? you were starting to get a bit worried that something happened.

soon, you were closer to the bathroom, you might as well retouch your makeup while here too. as you passed by a few more people, ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s for accidentally stepping on people were prevalent. suddenly you felt a hand grab your wrist. startled, you looked up at who it was.

unluckily for you, it was one of the least people you wanted to see, terushima.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

[name] and atsumu once did one of those pay and bake your own cakes.

atsumu and kageyama have a 'friendly' rivalry on the team because they're both setters (still good friends if non-volleyball context).

semi did not go to the party because he crashed after the game and overslept.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — love sick has been my only work so far where i actually let them play volleyball IFGFBDJSUDFHUDI i write abt fictional volleyball players doing everything but play volleyball btw the party scene is like completely inspired by my friends stories abt their experiences in bars and stuff so its def going to be inaccurate. and i still dont have a phone to use for smaus by the way hehe.

taglist is OPEN ! + (1/3) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

if i can not tag you, please change your mention settings to “everyone” thank you!

[genderqueerpond]

You know, I think Clara knew about Amy.

Not at first, of course, but Clara grew up with her --- that is, grew up reading Amelia Williams books. And they were precious to her, books she's read many times over the course of her childhood -- how else does she know exactly which chapter holds what in the book she gave Artie? Perhaps she has always felt connected to her, this moderately obscure children's fantasy author, following in the footsteps of E Nesbit; this contemporary (and sometime friend (oh yes!) ) of Edward Eager's; although not nearly as widely known as either of these. Perhaps because of her choice to publish openly under a "woman's name", thus, in the time in which she lived, relegating her books to the inferior realm of "girls' books", despite the more than equal balance of male viewpoint characters.

But Amelia Williams is different from these authors too -- often fantasy, but sometimes more like early science fiction, a barely- recognized pioneer in both genres. Her views were feminist and daring. In so many ways she was ahead of her time, and the innovations she imagined! almost as if she knew what the future would hold.

And if Clara knows and loves her books so well, she can hardly fail to recognize the most frequently repeated character archetype in them. especially after she rereads a few on a subconscious hunch, during that summer after the Maitlands found a permanent nanny and she insisted that before anything else, she go off and fulfill her original travel plans from 101 Places To See. (The Doctor purported to leave her alone to forge her own way with this, but was in actuality very bad at that, and kept popping up nearly every place she went.) She's Clara, she's clever, how can she fail to look up from her book and notice that the person who's just appeared out of nowhere to stand in front of her with a plate of jammie dodgers and a goofy smile has stepped directly out of the pages?

And then of course, there are the dedications. Sure, there's normal stuff like "to my daughter", "to my loving and patient husband", and "to my parents, who are children now" which is rather weird and whimsical, but fits in with the fantasy author's signature style of dream-like imagination.

But the majority of Amelia Williams' dedication pages say things like "to You", "to My Doctor", "to My Raggedy Doctor" "to my raggedy man" (weird but clearly connected to the other variants), and, cryptically, over and over again: "to you", "to you", "to you", "to you (wherever in time and space you are)".

There's "to my imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and to all children who have an imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and every child in the universe who's ever met him, or ever will". Nerds and English teachers have occasionally debated what, if anything, she meant by all this, and now Clara thinks she knows, but she can never say....

And then there are the nights that the Doctor wakes up crying out for "Amy!" and then refuses to talk about it when Clara asks, refuses to acknowledge ever even knowing an Amy, "well everyone shouts random things when they're asleep, it doesn't mean anything" and "I don't remember." if pressed for details about his dreaming. And later he might go off somewhere and cry quietly, reading a book he never lets Clara see.

And then he regenerates, and calls out for "Amelia!", "the first face this face saw."

There's newborn twelve, with his Scottish accent, letting her name slip. It's the first - and only - time he's spoken of her while awake and not actively dying. And Clara is too busy with the immediate threat to their lives to think about it in the moment, but at this point she at the very least has a hunch about the connection between him and the Scottish-American author with the rather opaque background --- that as far as anyone can trace it (although to be fair, no one really cares enough to try very hard) she and her husband just kind of appeared out of nowhere in pre-WWII New York. It seems kind of obvious, now, that the doctor would have had a hand in that.

And now with all the books everywhere, the library gradually migrating into the console room, what else is obvious is that he owns every single one of her books. multiple copies, first editions, last editions, signed copies, mass paperbacks, everything. There's a TARDIS key hidden in a well-worn, well-loved, tear streaked copy of The Cuckoo And The Doll's House, which Clara finds when she's cataloging all the locations of TARDIS keys, just in case she should ever need that information one day.

This all is enough for Clara to know. There doesn't really need to be any more proof, but there is. What totally and fully clinches it are the pictures. Tucked in the pages of another tearstained book (The Beast Below this time), are photographs of Amelia, looking just as she does in her black and white author photos, but younger, and in 21st century clothes. Elsewhere, later, she finds photo booth polaroids of a still younger Amelia, goofing off and smiling. Some of them feature another young man Clara doesn't recognize, and some of them feature the Doctor. He's wearing a tweed jacket instead of his purple wool, and no vest, but otherwise he is exactly the same as the Doctor she first met. The three of them hang off each other like old friends, like family.

idk how to end this.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I love your blog so much!! You're without a doubt my favorite writer on this app, you write yanderes so so well and you just manage to capture so amazingly the personality of EVERY character you write, especially Byakuya, i love him so much, and you just write him so well, i've been reading and rereading your works nonstop!

Could i please request yandere Byakuya with a Reader who's very kind and gentle and they like to follow him around (not in an annoying way, but in an attempt to try to befriend him and make sure he is okay during the killing game, since he is kinda excluded for being an ass). Better yet, how would he react to Reader actually leaving him alone after he went too far, or was too mean to them

Love everything you post so much, feel free to deny, remember to eat and drink water!

Thank you so so much! I'm happy i could make you happy! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sweet ‘n Sour | Yandere Byakuya Togami

It’s honestly an honor

That you’re transmigrated into an anime/game

Too bad it’s the killing game of Danganronpa

And of course, with you thrown in the middle things are really unpredictable

So you’ll comfort yourself in being as kind to these characters as you possibly can

Especially Byakuya

A fan favorite and an intriguing ally throughout the game

Of course, you just gravitate toward him

Even though he sneers and insults you

Sometimes threatens

But you don’t mind…

…

Even though….

Those comments are beginning to hurt 

It’s one thing to love a meaner character through the screen but in person, it’s pretty hard

despite your inclination to maintain your usual smile and gentle actions

After a while, you just stop trying 

Too bad some may consider that your biggest mistake:

“Honestly I was hoping you’d turn up as one of the corpses during this farce; it probably would have made it even more interesting.”

That was it.

That was the last straw for you. Toko could have all his time and attention for all you care. The sheer fact you’ve put up with this for so long disgusts you. To hear your own life be spat on by the guy you’d been trying to extend a helping hand to–it was despicable. (Of him or of you, you couldn’t decide.)

“Ah, I see. Have a good night then.”

That was the last time you went out of your way to speak to him; immediately changing your schedule to accompany someone else. Since you’d been away with Byakuya you almost forgot how kind the rest of the group was. 

“(Y/n) I’m so happy you’re willing to hang out now! Let’s make donuts together!”

“After that I hope you’ll indulge me and Naegi in a puzzle of sorts.”

“I-if it’s alright with you..”

It was refreshing. 

To be told you were actually wanted around was somehow so fulfilling.

What terrible company you’ve been keeping.

“I’d love to!” Within a matter of days you are feeling the warmth of friendly interactions; whereas the man you’re avoiding is having a….less than stellar reaction.

Crash! 

Toko was excited that her Byakuya-sama had finally chased you. A rival weak enough to be effected by words wasn’t much of a rival at all! But upon your absence in only a few hours into his daily routine Byakuya had made an intense realization. 

That he desperately desired your attention on him.

He didn’t have to actually see you skirting your routine with him to know he hated the thought of you spending any amount of time with his classmates rivals. It literally made his skin itch and his throat close up with every minute away from you. Naturally he doesn’t care that even Toko is unnerved by the tantrum he throws. Books are strewn about, the shelves dangerously leaning against one another. All of it just an emphasis of the palpable malice emanating off of Byakuya. In the middle of the ruins he just stands still. 

Alarmingly still.

Like a predator looking out. 

Are they hunting? Scoping? Contemplating the ways to torture their enemies?

No one really knows.

Even when he pulls at his hair and belts out in an uncouth laughing fit. In an instant he stops demanding Monokuma show himself this instant. He needed to find you. Now. He’ll make it a point to inform the headmaster of his own teaching. 

Because apparently you–being the kind and gentle soul you are should be able to withstand all kinds of people. Especially him. Always him. So he’ll offer his own guidance by keeping you within arms reach at all times. 

He expects you to persist against anything he can throw at you.

How else are you going to rule the world as a Togami?

[flowersforfics]

"We’re an Interracial couple " C.S

Chris Sturniolo x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n and Chris do the "We're a couple of course trend"

Reader: She is black and fem but has no body descriptions

Rating: PG-13, fluff

Warning: cussing like twice, fast-paced?

Request: YES/NO

Beta Read: YES/NO

Request/ Asks Open: YES/NO

Words:1k

A/N: I hope y'all like this I have one more fic for Chris before I move on to another person.

A/N2: The way I read this before posting and reread it and missed grammar mistakes anyway it's fixed now.

Chris master list and Main master list

I do not give consent for my work to be translated or put on different platforms without my knowledge if you would like to do so just send an ask or comment

You have been seeing videos of couples doing the "Were a couple of course" trend and you wanted to do it with Chris so you sent him a video of the trend and he was on board.

You and Chris decided you guys should do it outside at a park at night if someone asked you why you couldn't give them a set answer.

"You ready" Chris asks me and I nod my head he tells me to go when he starts recording on the regular camera instead of TikTok.

"We're an interracial couple of course I send him cute pictures of other interracial couples and say that us," I say while walking and looking at the camera. Chris passes me my phone while it's still recording. I point the camera at Chris and he looks at the camera.

"We're an interracial couple of course I use your hair products because they are better," Chris says smiling at me.

"You what, "I say before putting the camera down then stop walking while looking at him like he has 10 heads

"I use your hair products and brushes," He says as he stops walking looking at me

"Christopher how long have you been using my stuff, not the brushes i don't care about those I clean them every week.

"Probably 2-3 months," He says shrugging his shoulders

"That's why your hair looks fluffier, but that's also why I keep running out, Chris that shit is expensive, "I say slightly yelling

"I'll buy you more I promise let's continue the video," He says taking the camera out of my hand and placing a kiss on my forehead

"We're an interracial couple of course I say black jokes he doesn't get most of the time, "I say looking at the camera

"I get them......sometimes," he says while I take the camera from him

"We're an interracial couple of course when I'm awake and you're asleep and your bonnet tries to run away I put her back on you," Chris says pointing at me

"That's nice and cute Chris thank you," I say looking at him and then placing a kiss on his nose. Chris took the camera from me and pointed towards me.

" We're an interracial couple of course when I kiss you on the lips I leave a lipstick mark around your lips because my lips are bigger than yours," I say pointing at him 

"I love it every time," He says passing me the phone

"We're an Interracial couple of course I save hairstyles I think you would like," He says smiling at me

"That's how I got this hairstyle," I say turning the camera to me and Chris takes the phone out of my hand

'We're an interracial couple of course I quote black movies and he doesn't know what I'm talking about half of the time," I say thinking about the time I quoted Friday and he looked at me confused.

" Well I get some now since we watched all the Friday movies," He says passing me the phone

"We're an interracial couple, of course, I know she's not the one," Chris says referring to the time I said that to him when I was annoyed.

"Bro,' I say laughing and Chris laughs with me after a while we calm down and I pass him the phone

"We're an interracial couple of course we were Ariel and Prince Erik for Halloween," I say remembering our Halloween costume from last year.

"I loved that one," Chris said passing me the phone.

"We're an interracial couple of course I remember your lip combo and foundation shade," Chris said he had stopped walking once we got to the exit of the park. 

"AWE," I say before turning the camera off. I put my phone in my back pocket

"There a 7-11 over there wanna go to it," Chris points grabbing my hand and kissing my palm. I nodded my head then I went to hold his hand and Chris led me to the 7-11 once we were inside Chris refused to let go of my hand. We started to walk around and get some snacks. Once we were at the Slushies station I tried to let go of Chris's hand and he wouldn't budge.

"Chris I need my hand," I say trying to pull away 

"No, you don't come on we're going to do this together," Chris says placing the snacks on the counter behind us. After a while, we walk out of the store laughing and not holding hands.

"My place or yours," I ask looking at Chris taking a sip of my Slushie

"Your place," Chris says pulling out his phone and texting his brothers. I pull out my phone to look at how long it would take to walk to my place.

"It's a 10-minute walk from here let's go," I say as I look at Chris while he puts his phone away. We begin walking back to my place talking and laughing the whole way there.

Once we get inside my place we take off our shoes and coats placing them on the rack by the door. 

We do our nighttime routine and the door dashed us some food. While we ate I edited the video and posted it. Once we were done with our food and our slushies we put our snacks away and went to the bathroom to brush our teeth then went to bed.

+ BONUS COMMENTS ON THE VIDEO

Y/nChri: The way they look at each other

Y/nluv: Y/N better than me. I would have fought Chris over the hair stuff.

⤷ Chriluv: Straight boxing in that park

Y/nkid: Awe they have matching outfits

⤷ bbyy/n: omg i didn't notice

Chris_Y/nsbby: Get you a bf who fixes your bonnet

⤷ Y/npie: the way I looked at my bf and sighed

Y/nbae: I know those mosquitoes ate their ass up.

⤷ Nicksturniolo: oh most deffinetly

     ⤷ Mattsturniolo: and they're gonna complain about it all day tomorrow.

I hope you guys like this. Like, Comment, or reblog if you do.

Comment if you would like to be added to my taglist.

Have an amazing Day or Night MWAH.

TAGLIST

@jnkvivi

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Calm Your Mind, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Description of Anxiety

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N loves to read, except her brain loves to give her a hard time and Rafe wants to be able to calm her anxiety.

Masterlist

Y/N knows she can’t remember every single detail of the book she reads, but her anxiety tells her that she should. It likes to blame the fact that she speed-reads for making her forget, instead of being a human who can’t hold everything in her mind. Sometimes, she can let it go. Other times, she is riddled with anxiousness and tries to hold on to every single event in the book. Y/N sits on the armchair in the frat house’s living room, reading her book in solitude. This is her second reading of the book. Kelce comes into the living room and starts up a conversation with the girl, which she doesn’t mind as she puts her book down. However, once Kelce is gone, her mind gets on her about reliving every aspect of the book she is reading. The couch creaks under the release of pressure from Kelce rising and leaving the room. Her palm digs into her closed sockets. She can easily remember what happens at the beginning of the book, yet as she gets closer to the middle, the order gets a little more fuzzy. She keeps rearranging the order in which things happen and her mind is screaming at her for being careless. Rafe finds her with her eyes closed and hands covering her face. He spots the book on the coffee table before her, knowing exactly what is wrong with her. 

He picks her up and sits where she once was seated. Her bum falls into his lap and he pulls her hands away from her face. “You don’t need to memorize everything about the book,” he mutters to her. She sighs with a slight nod, “I know, but my brain is telling me that I am missing something. And I feel like if I don’t remember it then I didn’t actually read the book.” Rafe’s mouth presses against her forehead and he nods against her skin. “Let me calm your mind, Angel,” he offers. “Did your eyes glance over the words of each page you have read?” Her head bobs. “Can you tell me the plot of the book?” She again indicates that she can. “You always tell me that you reread books to be reminded of certain details of the book. You say if you wanted a play-by-play of the plot, then you would reread the summary you write for the books you read. So tell me, did you come out from reading this book with one more specific detail that you didn’t remember before?” She looks up at him with a smile, “Yeah, um… It’s an enemies-to-lovers book and before they get together, he makes her a plate to eat when they are given their food at a restaurant. It was a family-style restaurant. It was cute.” “Then it sounds to me that your goal of reading the book again was achieved,” he hmms. This helps dull the criticizing voice in her head, “You’re right.” “Are you enjoying the book and do you remember some of the stuff you are reading?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, then tell that beautiful brain of yours to leave you alone. I don’t like it when it bothers you like that.”

“It’s harder to do than you think, Rafe.”

“I know, so how about I read you the rest of your book and you can blame me if you forget anything, Angel.”

“I think that is an acceptable compromise.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming