#these annoying bastards DESERVE EACH OTHER

[cloudysfluffs]

can you guys tell i have a favorite pairing

kink/nsfw/fetish blogs dni please!!!

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi love can I get a tiramisu with a side hot coffee (w baby trapping) made freash by Max Verstappen ty 💛

bakery menu (complete)

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i have tons of items to choose from and i'd love for you to check them out! any driver is available (must be 18+, duh) so please feel free to throw your orders my way <3 i love the way your mind thinks, lovely anon. that's one way to get competition off the track! i hope you love the fic!

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, baby trapping, (technically) unprotected sex, jos verstappen jumpscare, missionary & mating press,

max knew the hunger of racing. it was almost a blood lust. it was a fire in the belly of a driver that pushed them to such limits that it would kill some. formula one drivers were all striving to be the best. max knew this quite well, spending years in a shadow he could never escape. he yearned for approval but it always came to him like a bitter pill. but, not you. you were the track's princess, praise came to you on a silver platter.

and it annoyed the hell out of max. many prayed for his downfall both on a driving level, but also on a personal level. people wanted him to fail, but those same people wanted you to fly high to a second world championship.

so when he saw his own father smiling at you and give you a firm hand shake followed by a pat on the back after a spectacular win. max knew there was one thing to do.

make sure you never stepped foot on the track again.

"c'mon, schat." max said as he leaned against the doorway of the motor home on the track. he saw you walk by back to your teams. he crossed his arms and watched you on shaky legs.

you made a face, "treasure?" you laughed, your voice bounced a little down the row of motor homes for the weekend, "max verstappen, do you forget who i am?"

he snickered, "currently you look like a shaky deer. why are you in heels, you never wear heels?" the two of you butt heads often. you seemed to get under each other's skin often enough.

"it's called going on a date, max. have you heard of those? plus, shouldn't you be fucking some grid bunny tonight? we are on your home turf, might as well trap some poor girl with your bastard."

he laughed louder, "funny. were you having a night on the town? i bet you opened your legs to whatever manager you could find. whoever would give you the biggest contract." his words were biting and so were yours. while it was always better to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

it was easier to catch a rival with vitriol than kindness.

you got your heels off and threw them one after the other towards him before you stopped over bare foot to get in his face. you got onto the small porch and he was all smiles.

"do you have-"

"of course. after all, you're not the first grid bunny of the weekend." then pulled you into the motor home with a slam of the front door. before you could chew him out for that term being used towards you. he had you pressed against the door of the motor home with your leg wrapped around his hip and his large hand pushing up the already short skirt of your dress.

he had no interest in any of the fans with his face plastered across their fat tits. while the women of his home country were beautiful, his eyes were set on the snapping jaws of another driver.

his lips down your neck, teeth grazed across your pulse point and it made you shudder. nipples grew hard under his touch. he started to grope your breasts and you moaned out loud in the near empty motor home.

clothes were shed, leaving you vulnerable. it was a surprise that you made it to the bed. for a brief moment as you dragged him to the bedroom, max thought he was going to breed his future wife on the linoleum wooden floor. and max may have wanted you bred asap but, he wasn't going to hurt your poor elbows and knees. his wife deserved the best, you were going to be doing a big thing. giving birth to the next legend of the track.

"schat." he said softly his mouth to your ear. his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled to his chest. his hands then went to your breasts where he groped the flesh, near bruising them. they were only going to get prettier once you got pregnant. he felt lucky tonight.

"max. fuck." you groaned before you managed to pull yourself away from him and get onto the bed. you propped yourself up on your elbows as you gazed at him. he eyed your beauty as he got closer to you and the bed. his cock at full attention.

oh yeah, you'd never step foot in a car again after tonight. well give it a few weeks and then you'll be off the track for good. he got between your legs on the bed. he got those lovely thighs around him as he continued to gaze at your figure.

"pretty thing." he said, "should i be worried that another man touched you tonight? or were you a good girl?"

you looked at him, "you're not my husband. max. you don't own me."

max smiled before he leaned over you, his bare cock almost slipped into your slick hole as he grabbed a condom from the box in the nightstand. you were trying to get out from under him before he slipped in without protection. a condom was what you thought was your savior. but, max had pricked little holes in it earlier, when he found out you'd be back to the track late.

you watched him get the condom on, the low light made it almost impossible to notice that there were small tears int he tip of the condom. with enough force of his hips, max could probably tear through it. you held onto his forearms as he rubbed his cock up against you for a few moments before he sank inside your sweet cunt. it made him groan and feel a heat in him.

"perfect little thing. i bet you thought about me while you were out. thought about all the thing i'd do you that's why you came in here, right? because you knew you'd get that cunt fucked out."

you felt your ears burn as he continued to rut against you. you dug your short nails into his arms as he thrusted against you. his cock was like a bully, just like the rest of him. but it made your toes curl as you laid under him.

max verstappen was your rival and now he was too busy gorging on your cunt like he owned it. like you were a couple. but, little did you know. the plan was going well in max's mind. it wasn't a difficult one anyway. he just needed his achy, thick cock inside of your gooey cunt and finish inside of you. the rest was biology's doing so he could take his hands off the wheel for that.

and if you weren't pregnant there was a whole other leg of the season plus the off season to really make sure it took. but, you strived for perfection, it was written in your dna. so you'd be good and take him the first time. let his baby sprout in your sweet womb. no need to think about racing when you're caring for his child.

"jij bent de mijne." he said like a promise as he picked up the pace. his cock shoved into the softest parts of you. for such a bitch on the track, your pussy was gummy soft and just pulled him in.

you whined and arched your back. max enjoyed the heavy rise and fall of your pretty breasts. oh, you were beautiful. maybe he was lucky, giving you a baby now. not allow anyone else on the grid to get a taste of you. because you were the kind of woman that men got addicted to.

he picked your hips up further and started to really work at it. your legs were over his shoulders while he fucked you with such vigor that you couldn't find it in you to grip onto the covers under your back. your toes curled while he pounded into you. heat flashed across your body and you felt like you were on fire.

you panted and moaned while max was determined to breed you. you'd be such a pretty mother to his children. did you think he was stopping at one? no. because with you he was going to breed champions and that fact made pleasure lick up in his stomach. he watched you squirm a little as you neared climax and it made max hot all over.

yeah, it was only right that he bred you. keep you off the track and at home with the kids. no need to step on anymore toes in formula one. retire with grace and raise his kids. put that hot feminine body of yours to good use, grow them well in your soft womb. be good for your husband.

he leaned further, pushing you further into yourself to kiss you hotly on the lips once more. he felt your cunt tighten around him as you panted heavily. he had you in a full mating press as his cock bruised your sweet insides. poor thing, marked forever by your rival. the kissed between you two were hot and left heat dripping through your body. his cock felt heavy between your legs. pushing you to your limit. that was a good future mrs. verstappen. you climaxed, he watched bliss crossed your face as you tensed up then relaxed. your heart hammered in your ears as you laid under him, knees to your chest and over his shoulders while his leaky blunt cock head hit against you.

he came soon after, but even when he stilled to a stop. he kept the position to make sure every last drop knew where to go. now wasn't the time for mishaps. he knew that the condom was fully torn at the tip. there was nothing protecting that pretty cunt of yours.

sorry, schat, that was the game. and as max looked into your dazed eyes, he thought that you didn't mind. when he put your legs down and got you on your stomach.

you whimpered a little and he shushed you with heated kiss. he didn't even try to pretend he changed the condom before he was back to being inside of you. you two had a long night together.

max hungered for a lot of things, but as he listened to your sweet whimper and moans, he hungered for one thing. your cunt happily drooling down his cock.

-

"think he's going to do it?" max asked, his arms crossed over your rounded middle. his head on your shoulder as you both watched your eldest son do a second lap on the track.

you looked at him and replied, "of course he will. he's our son." your son, remko was eight now and had taken to the track like nothing else. maybe max's plan didn't work when he made you retire years earlier due to being pregnant with your son. you would eventually step on the track again, first watching your husband win three more championships and now your son taking an interest in it.

you turned back to your son as he hugged the curves of the track. you worried your bottom lip a little. it was a little too much hugging for your liking. you rubbed your lower back. maybe it was the pregnancy emotions getting to you. making you worry.

your career ended after two championships. something you held with pride. you were married to max now, had a son and expecting another in a few short months. as max rubbed your middle and kissed your cheek. you did get one thing out of it though, a promise from your young son that while he would race under the verstappen last name, he'd happily race under your country's flag.

so while you couldn't bring your nation joy, you'd be nothing but smiles when your son held the flag high in due time. some would've considered that max trapped you with a baby (or rather two). but those same blue eyes and charming smile still lured you in. even though you had your doubts about that night being an 'accident', there was nothing you could really do now. both your boys needed their father.

"i love you." max said, hand wide across your swollen middle.

you looked at him, your rival turned husband. as your son crossed the finish line for his practice, you kissed your husband on the lips. the time of the laps were called and you said to max, "i love you too." then watched your husband pull away to congratulate remko on a good practice.

knowing your luck both of your kids will be in racing. and you knew if max had his way, the entire future grid would have the verstappen last name. <3

[erosiism]

GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM | part two

character(s): childe, ayato [part one is finished, it features diluc & zhongli]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute 

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

AYATO

note(s); you are his fiance

Your marriage alliance is purely for business. Ayato knows that. He’s the head of the Yashiro Commission's Kamisato plan—he’s busy, for god’s sake. He doesn’t want to waste time or beat around the bush: if he is to marry you, the only son of the L/n clan, he will, but he doesn’t want you to expect any pleasantries. He will be cordial and polite enough, but he doesn’t have the time to butter you up. He will mind his own business, and so will you. He is not one for earthly desires. He cares far more for his clan’s prestige and for surviving to play the role of a husband.

“[Name], right?” He smiles at you. You smile back, your posture stiff and your smile fixed painfully on your face. “I’m sure we know what this marriage is intended for.”

Your skin feels tight. “I do.”

“You can go to Thoma should you have any inquiries. My sister will help you too should you need anything.”

You tilt your head. Your tone is straightforward and blunt. “And you?”

“I’ll be busy,” Ayato says politely.

“I understand.”

There: your first conversation had been completely unremarkable and bland. But Ayato had appreciated that you had been straight to the point. You had been completely no nonsense, and Ayato at least, did not feel annoyed. He has too many things on his plate to deal with trivial things like romance: too many rival clans are trying to assassinate him, too many people are trying to destroy his clan. He does his own things, you do too. Occasionally you two meet—it’s just one house, after all, and you two make polite conversation. You make for a rather amusing partner at times, you make him laugh, and with you he feels relaxed.

Sometimes he plays the tricks he plays on Thoma; but it’s almost impressive to see you stomach the strange food he feeds you. You tease him with a rather sweet straight face; in calm tones, you poke fun at him. Ayato forgets that the two of you are married, at times, but there are also the rare times that he’s almost pleased.

Months pass after your encounter. The two of you have lapsed into a routine. Ayato finds that there are times he almost looks forward to the occasions the two of you meet. He starts planning brief instances where he can see you: he starts to finish his work a little quicker so he’ll be able to see you. He lessens your workload so you won’t be tired. He buys trinkets that remind him of you. He starts to reach out to you a lot more. 

He notices you smiling more. You seem pleased, joyful, even at this. 

(“Gosh,” Ayaka tells him once, smiling sweetly. “You two do act like a married couple.”

Married. Ah. Right. Ayato has nearly forgotten.)

One day, as he’s out, he spots a gem the color of your eyes. He spends a decidedly long time looking at it, choosing it carefully, before he tucks it in your pocket. You deserve to have nice things, he thinks to himself. And so he will give it to you. His husband.

But when he returns home, he doesn’t expect to see the sight of you barely breathing, your breaths shuddering, your body limp. Thoma and Ayaka are not in sight. They must have gone out today. And you…

The gem clinks in his pocket as he runs towards you.

“[Name],” Ayato calls for your messily, the words falling over each other as they spill from his mouth, “[Name]!”

The last word is a yell. “[Name], please…who did this to you?”

“Those bastards,” you say weakly, “from…that…clan…they wanted information. They…”

“And you—”

“I didn’t give it to them, if that’s what you were worried about,” you manage to choke out. “I know how important it was to you.”

The information. Right. The scrolls. Right. Important? Perhaps months ago Ayato would have agreed. After all, that was months, almost a year of hard work. But looking at you now, Ayato begged to differ. Here you were, bleeding out, dying, because of him.

You sacrificed yourself. You sacrificed yourself for him.

“I know what this marriage was intended for,” you repeat the words he had told you when you two had first met. His husband. His beloved husband. His darling. “I’ve honored it.”

“No,” Ayato cradles you, feeling as if life escapes your body. Your body is turning cold. “No!”

It’s too late. The gem rolls out of his pocket, and Ayato despairs.

The gem is no longer the color of your beautiful eyes.

It’s bathed in red.

CHILDE

note(s); you are from fatui

There are countless deaths when it comes to Fatui. It has become disturbingly normal. And you are Tartaglia’s subordinate. The eleventh harbinger’s associate. You two hit it off, immediately: you are of similar age, and you have a little brother the same age as Teucer. Or: you had a little brother. He was torn away from you because of your poor living conditions in Snezhnaya. And that was what spurred you on to make a last ditch attempt to join the Fatui to find a purpose somehow; to riddle yourself with work so you cannot think of your brother’s death.

Childe has been nothing but sweet to you so far. You have been seeing two sides of him: the tender, gentle side to him when he talks about Teucer, when he speaks of the little letters he gets from his siblings, or on the occasions he speaks to you. And the other is more wild; more bloodthirsty—and in those instances, you can see the marks that the Abyss has left on him. That uncontrollable urge to ravage everything in sight; to leave it broken and damaged.

Today is no different. The two of you tread the snow as you walk up the mountains. Childe is laughing as he is telling you stories. You listen to him like you always do. Neither of you spot the Ruin Guards. Not even three—by some wretched curse, there are five of them, lumbering behind. And by the time their shadows loom before the two of you, it’s too late.

Childe flinches; you reach out to him in desperation before you see him shift into his Foul Legacy form. 

What rotten luck, you curse to yourself, adrenaline starting to fill in. What kind of stupid thing have we walked into?

You have seen him use it a few times—once against three Ruin Guards. He defeated them without much difficulty—but you had seen the after effects. You had seen the way he had panted for his breath; the way his face had turned pale, the way he had quivered and had grasped onto you and the Traveler for help.

He does the same. There’s still two remaining, and Childe’s still standing. But you see him clutching his head. You think of Teucer. Childe has a family to return to. You have no one. In a way, this action would be the most logical. The most understanding. It will be a sacrifice for Childe and his brother. You know the pain of losing a brother—you don’t want Teucer to go through that again.

“I think I can handle them,” you tell Childe quietly. You don’t have a vision, but you have a delusion you have yet to use. “Go. Rest.”

“[Name],” Childe warns.

“Teucer.” Is the only word you say.

Childe’s eyes widen. He bites his lip. He sees your point—you knew he would. 

“I’ll come back alive,” you promise.

“[Name],” he tries again.

“See you later.” It’s a clear dismissal. 

You push him a little to the side; Childe stumbles away. Then you quickly unleash the delusion you have kept and unsheathe your sword. Childe was the one that taught you how to use a sword—and now you recall his advice as you step to the side. The delusion has potentially lethal consequences. You know that. It’s your first time using it. You know that too. The energy thrums in your fingertips as you start to battle—the crimson lashes out between your teeth and blows start to rain on you.

You think of your brother. It was your lack of strength that caused his death—you can still remember his shouts, his screams—and even now they haunt you. You don’t waver, but your stance and your attacks become sloppy. Useless, you think harshly, useless! I can’t even—

The delusion unleashes more power in your desperation. The ruin guards start to sway and fall. You continue, but now blood is bursting from every crevice, every corner: wounds open, flesh tears away, and your mouth overflows with blood. The ventricles of your heart seem to be pulsing dangerously—the delusion is ripping away your mortality in return for its power. You continue. Your eyes start to tear—

Thuds tell you of the defeat of the guards. You slump in relief. Your feet carried you to Childe, who has collapsed on the ground.

“Childe,” you call weakly. “I…”

The words don’t leave your throat. Your broken stance is not the one that jolts him from his consciousness, but it is the splutter of blood and the horrid gargle your throat make when you start to retch out blood that horrifies him.

“[Name]!” He yells, “[Name]!”

“Let me close my eyes,” you plead. “I’m so tired.”

“No. Let’s—let’s get you to—”

“Please,” you start to beg him. “I think…”

Childe knows better. You will die if you close your eyes. He has to get you help—he can’t let you die. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He has loved you. He loves you. He adores you.

“You promised me,” Childe starts to whisper brokenly, “you promised me, [Name]. You said you'd come back alive. You said you will…”

The promise is shattered when your head slips from his grasp.

Your first and last promise to him, broken.

comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated

[peppermintquartz]

"What do you mean, a dance party? You mean, everyone actually danced?"

Buck places the forks and knives down in the sink and pulls on the rubber gloves for washing up. He still feels a little nauseous thinking about that moment, if he has to be entirely honest with himself, but he also knows how Tommy feels about Gerrard, so he just shrugs and nods. "Yeah. Hen's first order as acting captain, in fact. I guess they just really needed to cut loose."

It's a weighted lack of response behind him. Tommy spritzes the table and wipes it down, puts away the cleaning products and tosses the dishcloth onto the counter. Buck focuses on suds.

Then he feels Tommy's arms go around his waist and a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and a tension he didn't realize was there dissipates. It's not a flirtatious sort of intimacy that Tommy is initiating, however. Just a physical closeness.

"You know I don't like that old bastard," Tommy says quietly, "and I need you to keep that in mind, because I'm gonna say something that might annoy you."

"Um. Okay? Can it wait?"

"If I have to look at you when I say it, I might say something worse."

That sounds worrying. Buck takes a deep breath and stops washing the plates. "Alright."

"I'm so mad at Hen and Eddie and Howie right now, and I wish you had snapped at them," Tommy murmurs. "It was unprofessional of Hen, too."

"Babe-"

"I'm not done. I've heard him go off on guys before. Hell, I've been the guy on the firing line. And I know, I know I was a coward, I know I used to be the guy who kept his head down and I know I was the guy who was relieved when it wasn't me. Because that was how we used to survive, pushing another forward to take the heat. But he left, and the 118 became better. And then he came back, and I was afraid for you. For all of you. But I thought, well, even if he's running the 118 now, you guys have each other's backs." Tommy's embrace tightens subtly. "I don't like that none of them had your back."

Buck breathes out shakily. "They do, Tommy. They keep telling me to not talk back, to just leave him be. I was just the one who couldn't. A-and I just... I was lucky today. I could've lost my job because I wasn't able to..."

"Did you want to hurt him?"

Buck bites his lower lip. He takes a long moment to collect his thoughts. "I wanted him to shut up." He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. "If my timing had been off, if that saw had been a second faster... Tommy. I could've killed him."

Tommy holds him as shudders racked through his big frame. "You didn't, you didn't. Baby, you didn't."

"I could've," Buck repeats. "And no one... None of them, none of them were listening to me, they didn't wanna hear- Eddie was just. He. He said I saved him, and I told him I was just trying to hit him, and they were so happy and I was so scared-"

He isn't going to cry, not over fucking Gerrard, but there's a helplessness that's bubbling to the surface. It's a minor issue, compared to all that had happened, especially with that plane landing. His heart was in his throat almost the entire time until everything settled down.

"You're not wrong to have been scared," Tommy says fiercely, protectively. "You're a good man, Evan Buckley. And I know that you wouldn't have wanted to hurt him, even though he more than deserves it." Another moment, another kiss to the back of Buck's neck. "I don't want you to have to bear any guilt. You did save him. And they were being way too flippant and dickish about all of it."

And today Buck saw first-hand the level of trust Bobby has in Athena, and the fear Bobby hides under all of that confidence. He sees it now more clearly than ever, because he has Tommy, who is holding him and supporting him for a moment that bothers Buck more than it bothers anyone else.

"I'll get past it," he says aloud. He leans back into Tommy and sighs. "Thanks."

"Tell me I shouldn't call Eddie to tell him off. Or Howie. Or Hen, for unprofessional behavior."

"Don't call Eddie to tell him off." Buck smiles and turns to press a kiss to Tommy's cheek. "Or Howie or Hen. They're all stressed. They needed that moment."

Tommy huffs. "You're a better man than I am."

[thehauntedetheral]

Request-

Um, I don't know if you make requests, I'm sorry if you don't. But I've always been curious about, how would Yandere bafam react to a supernatural darling? Like, a demon.

You don't need to respond or anything, thank you for your attention.

Yandere Bruce x Maneater Demon Reader

Requests are open!

You and Bruce recently got married. It wasn't for love. It was an arranged marriage Bruce parents set before they died and as to respect them he decided to follow their decision.

Bruce and you were only married on papers and infront of public eye. You two were distant. Living in different rooms, rarely seeing each other which means seeing each other only while passing the corridors.

You came from a wealthy and educated family just like Bruce. You observed how he wasn't home at night and mostly out till morning.

You would ask alfred about it but got nothing. You were a curious cat and one day tried to follow Bruce but got lost in some shady dark place at middle of night due to his fast speed.

You were trying to find where you were and get back to home when you saw a drunk young men coming towards you.

"Well well what do we have here?" The drunk man said with a sick smile while laughing. There was no one around you other than this men. You were all alone in a shady place having no idea where the hell in Gotham City are you as you were from another city.

If this would have happened to you a few years ago you would have been shit scared praying to God for help but not now. Infact you were feeling sorry for the poor bastard.

"I suggest you to leave me alone for your own safety" you said in a calm voice. While he laughed like crazy at you. "For my safety? Are you insane bitch? Whatever I like insane women they are kinky" he said rubbing his hands together and coming towards you. That's it. This sick asshole deserve it. You thought.

When the man stands right infront of you. You tilt your head making your eyes starting turn red, making the man scared and screaming "What the fuck?"

"What happened? You liked insane women, right?" You said smiling sinister while your face and body started transforming into your demon form. You attacked the man and started tearing, rupturing him and eating him like the maneater you are while his blood drip down your neck and his screams feeling like a soft melody to your ears bringing you immense pleasure.

After devouring him up you look up and saw Batman standing infront of you a few metres apart looking at you with an intense look. You knew it was your husband Bruce. It was like you can identify Bruce in any costume. Might be one of your demonic advantages.

You turned back to your human form blood all spread over your mouth dripping down your neck while Batman/bruce looking at you with a shock confused look.

"Don't worry I won't eat you"you said wipping your lips with your hand then licking the blood on your fingers.

"I know" you heard his deep voice.

"And yeah he was a asshole. I only eat bad people and the one who annoy me" you said standing up blood covering your clothes.

"How?" You heard his deep voice.

"How I become this? Well long story hubby will tell you some day"you said going towards him. "He wasn't tasty" you said pouting generously hurt that he wasn't delicious.

You were a demon but why does Bruce feels like you are a goddess not demon. He should be scared but it only made him more fascinated by you. Well after all he was also a freak only of a different kind.

Requests are open!

A little Drabble About them :

For more yandere reading:

[mrsparrasblog]

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

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

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

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

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

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

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

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

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

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

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

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

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

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

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

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

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

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

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted  

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

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

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

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

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

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

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

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

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye  dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

[deathbringer]

I'm aware I'm probably not the first to think about this, but I am so ungodly annoyed by one specific missed opportunity in Dual Destinies.

I'm talking, of course, about the Phoenix disguise (does it have a name? Fakenix?) and how it's such a weak-ass gutpunch. Mx. The Phantom, you motherfucker, we could have had it all.

(Thanks for the screenshot, Reddit.)

"Hey," I hear some of the imaginary audience piping up. "The fuck do you mean? It was a fun and fucked up moment!" To which I say: okay, but.

I want you to picture a world in which Dual Destinies as a narrative actually gave a single fuck about AA4's character choices. Even if only a few small nods here and there to Phoenix's seven-year dark night of the soul. Literally ANYTHING to indicate that Phoenix has put in real work to regain his current, more balanced sense of morality/idealism/self. (Fans and the characters deserved more than just nods, but whatever, I'd take scraps and run with 'em.)

Now imagine the cross-examination of the Phantom in such a scenario, right up until we get to that eerie OBJECTION!

And it's Beanix on the witness stand. Like a bucket of cold water right into present-day Phoenix's face. Maybe he's even appearing to wear the beanie at first—maybe Athena and/or Apollo says "Mr. Wright, are you okay?" and the beanie disappears, but the hollow-eyed bastard cryptid Phoenix used to be still remains. And they look each other in the face, and Phoenix sees the abyss staring at him, and he forces a smile to do Mia proud and doesn't blink.

So yeah. I'm really normal about how none of that potential got used and instead it was just a series of "haha duplicated Phoenix" jokes.

[morning-star-joy]

I feel something when I see you now (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Neighbors, Joel x F!Reader

Summary: You and Joel avoid each other after he hears you...taking care of yourself. When Joel finally runs into you next, he's startled to discover that lust isn't all that he feels for you.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI m masturbation & Joel's ashamed, Soft!Reader, Grumpy x Sunshine, Mutual Pining starts, Joel's in denial, implied Age Gap

Wordcount: 7.8k

Part I || Part III || Part IV || Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel was still avoiding you, putting in even more effort to not be caught in your presence than before. Not because he was annoyed by your kindness, even though that feeling still hadn’t gone away.

No, it was because he was ashamed.

Ashamed that when he heard those sweet, quiet moans drifting from your bedroom window, he didn’t leave as quickly as he should have.

Ashamed that he had lingered, eyes fluttering shut as he reveled in those soft whimpers, the way they carried on the breeze through his own open window that was right above yours, cursing himself that he hadn’t closed it earlier.

Ashamed that he had ripped the towel off from around his waist after his cold shower, marching back into the bathroom for another one even as his hand wrapped around his already stiff cock halfway there, and he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

The water beating on his back when he got right back into the shower hadn’t been cold, but hot, almost unbearably so as Joel fucked his hand that night, his other hand slapping against the tiles of the shower wall to lean against it as he grunted and thrusted into his fist, wondering what his sounds would sound like mixed with yours.

“Fuck,” Joel had groaned, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to tell himself to stop, to respect you, but fuck he was so close, and you had sounded so deliciously wanton, noises he didn’t know you could make, and the thought of why you were making them, what you were doing to make them, sent him over the edge, shooting thick ropes of cum on his shower wall and over his hand as he moaned, “Fuck.”

Even after the climax faded, Joel stayed under the water until it ran cold, palms pressed flat against the wall as he took deep breaths, feeling the shame wash over him in waves to take the place of the pleasure that had just been shooting through his veins from the release.

That shame turned into a guilt that lingered when he finally pulled himself out from under the cold water, slowly going through the process of drying himself off before heading back into his bedroom, dreading how he knew his eyes would be drawn to the window that he had left open when he stormed into the bathroom.

Once he was dressed for sleep, and built up enough courage to go over and close the window when a light breeze began to bring a chill into the room, Joel couldn’t stop himself from looking towards your window below his.

Shut, curtains drawn.

Fuck.

Joel took care to quietly shut his own window, pulling his curtains closed over it as he feels the guilt seep even deeper into his old bones, face burying against his pillow to groan into the fabric as he thinks back to how the bathroom door had slammed shut behind him.

If he had been able to hear you making those…sounds, you most certainly would have been able to hear him close the door with such force.

He had no doubt interrupted your—

Joel groaned again, rolling onto his back to lift his hands to his face, rubbing his fingers down over it, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to will his mind into not racing so fast with the shame.

Shame, because he knew you deserved better than some dirty old man jacking off because he heard you taking care of yourself. 

But what if it wasn’t just you? 

He hadn’t stopped to think that you may have had company, but he hadn’t heard anybody else as you—no. 

Stop, you fucking horny old bastard, Joel scolded himself as his eyes narrowed into a glare up at the ceiling, hating how he couldn't just stop thinking about it. Thinking about you.

He had no right to know any of that. As frustrating as your mere existence was, as great of an inconvenience it was to have to live next door to the personified beacon of light that lit up Jackson, he knew you didn’t deserve to be reduced to a lustful fantasy by your new neighbor.

Joel would just have to stay away, same way he always did.

And he was doing a fantastic fucking job of it. He hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of you over the next couple of weeks, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the universe had finally worked in his favor, at least in some small, truly inconsequential way.

Or maybe you were avoiding him too.

Either way, it was working.

Until, of course, the universe had to fuck with him again.

It wasn’t until he had stopped by The Tipsy Bison after another long patrol day to pick up a couple sandwiches for his and Ellie’s dinner that he had the cruel misfortune of running into you again.

There was an ache low in his back and a slight tremor in his left knee that let him know he would probably sleep through the night and at least half the day tomorrow to recuperate, and so distracted was he by the thought of an easy meal, a hot shower and comfortable bed that he didn’t notice you were there until he heard the soft, “Oh.”

Joel’s head lifted instantly, attention subconsciously drawn to the already irritatingly familiar lilt of your voice, eyes meeting your wide ones as they peered in surprise at him above the large bunch of flowers in your hands.

The tension was recognizable instantly, tying him to you in a way that he was used to, but when he saw you shift under the pressure, Joel realized with a start that you felt it too.

You felt it too.

He tried to turn away then, but he kept looking. Eyes glued to yours, watching you slowly become flustered, the first moment that you two had faced each other in weeks coming with the knowledge that you both were very well aware of what you had done, and that he had heard.

What you didn’t know was what Joel had done afterwards, and it was that familiar surge of shame that helped him finally tear his gaze away from you. From the corner of his eye, he sees you spin on your heel—sandals again, he realized, a choice that made sense if you had just been gardening, even though your hands were clean this time and why was he even thinking about this—to start to walk away when a voice calls out your name.

He looks at the young man at the same time you do—one of the owner’s sons, he thinks, coming over to smile at you from the other side of the bar, and Joel’s muscles tense at the sight of it, at the familiarity in your voice as you greet him.

When Joel allows his gaze to slide back to you, he’s surprised to find that the smile you return to the man is forced. It’s the first time he’s seen you give a smile that isn’t genuine, but even then it’s not unkind. Not dishonest, just…nervous. Uncertain.

It’s because of him.

Joel knows it is, and he quickly looks away again, fingers tapping against the bar as he wonders how the long it can take to get a couple of fucking sandwiches—a horrible, rude thing to think about free food for hard work in a peaceful settlement like Jackson, but Joel’s old and bitter and thinks it anyway.

But even though he wasn’t looking at your smile now, he found himself looking at that of the man speaking to you.

That smile Joel could tell was real. It was flashed at you as the man rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward to talk to you, grin bright and appealing, subtle in its motives but obvious to Joel that this guy had a giant fucking crush on you.

Or maybe simply felt the same urges around you that Joel did.

Those sweet moans—

Joel sucked a breath in through his nose at the rush of more guilt, shaking his head to himself as he stared down at the counter of the bar, foot tapping impatiently now to join that of his fingers.

He has no right to look, no right to even think about you in that way, in any way. 

Even with that knowledge, Joel finds himself very much aware of where you still stood a foot away from him at the counter, now arranging flower centerpieces for the bar, with real vases the young man with a giant, stupid obvious crush on you had brought over. 

You weren't that close to Joel, but you were still too close, and he tries to focus his mind on everything but you being just out of his reach, until your hand closes that distance and reaches out to him instead.

His gaze flashes down to the flower now innocently resting next to where he had been impatiently tapping his fingers on the counter, the long stem covered in thorns leading up to a coral blossom, light orange fading to pink on the edges.

A rose, Joel realizes, and his brows furrow, staring down at it.

You didn’t say a word, back to arranging flowers in the vases, but when Joel finally gives into the subconscious, unspeakable temptation to look at you, he sees your flustered face again and fuck. 

His gaze snaps back down to the rose as he stares at it, remembering how you had picked out different flowers for him and Ellie when they first arrived. You had explained the meaning of Ellie’s, but not his. 

Did his flowers from you have a meaning? 

What about this one? 

What meaning could you have intended by leaving this on the bar for him without a word?

Finally, finally Seth returned with the sandwiches, and Joel took them with a mumbled thanks at the same moment his other hand wrapped around the stem of the rose, and he mumbled without glancing at you while he moved to leave, “I’ll pass it on to Ellie.”

“It’s for you.”

Joel hated how fast his feet glued to the ground just at the sound of your soft voice finally speaking to him for the first time in weeks.

His pulse was racing, blood rushing to his head and, surprisingly, nowhere else.

When Joel dared another glance towards you, he saw your hair falling in a way that covered your face from his view. In the back of his mind—or maybe the forefront, with denial on how completely you had taken over his mind with just three words—he wonders if you have a wide-eyed gaze again, or if you’re completely unbothered.

Then your face turns, and he curses himself for not looking away fast enough, because now he has to look into those eyes again, to see the kindness in them as one of those genuine smiles curls onto your lips and, fuck, he didn’t know he missed it.

He shouldn’t miss it. He shouldn’t look at you, shouldn’t think about you, shouldn’t feel—

He saw it then.

Your eyes wide but kind, setting your face in a softness that he despised the fact that he didn’t truly despise it at all, and his heart thumped in his chest, lurching towards you.

Oh, fuck.

He’s leaving then, turned away and walking out before he could think of something to say to surely embarrass himself, feeling another sharp pang of shame at always running from you, even though he knows the last thing he should do is ever spend time with you.

Still, Joel stares at his pitiable makeshift vase that was still far too small when he replaces the dying daffodils with this new, singular stem of a coral rose, wondering what it means.

Wondering why he can’t even bring himself to throw out the flowers that had died.

He doesn’t notice until later that night that there were pricks along his palm, spots where the thorns had dug into his skin, sharp enough to draw blood that had dried along calloused skin.

Joel wonders if it had tainted the rose too.

He wondered if it would taint you, if his impurities would wash off on you if he ever gave in to the overwhelming temptations to touch you.

Joel doesn’t think about it anymore, even if he’s always thinking about it. His mind is always replaying that sweet smile, those wide eyes in the back of his mind, and on his next patrol with Tommy, he’s foolish enough to let the words slip out of his mouth, “You know how to press a flower?”

Tommy’s head slowly turns towards Joel, his amusement obvious at his brother’s expense at the question that Joel clearly didn’t intend to actually ask as he asks a bright, teasing, “What?”

“Y’know,” Joel mumbled as his shoulders tense up, holding in an exasperated sigh as he can see Tommy’s small grin from the corner of his eye. Little shit. “Like—pressing petals in a book, or something. Makin’ it last.”

“Why do you wanna press a flower?” Tommy’s grin was growing now, as was Joel’s irritation.

“I don’t,” Joel snapped, finally glancing towards Tommy before turning his head the other way completely, not liking the knowing look in his brother’s gaze, because there’s absolutely nothing to know. “It’s for Ellie.”

“Ah,” Tommy said slowly, something in his tone saying he didn’t buy it completely, but he adjusted in his saddle before replying honestly, “Why don’t you ask your neighbor? She knows all about that kinda stuff.

Joel’s body reacts instantly to the mention of you, back stiffening as he keeps his head stubbornly turned away. He hummed in a short, noncommittal way, eyes fixed straight ahead to purposefully ignore the weight of Tommy’s gaze fixed back on him.

“You talk to her yet?” Tommy asked, before giving a little laugh and adding before Joel could even think of what to respond with, “Who am I kidding, she’s probably talked to you. Girl’s sweet, almost a bit too kind for her own good. Still, she brightens up the lives of lots of folks around here.”

Joel hummed again, still staring straight ahead.

He had seen your brightness—with your elderly neighbor, and the man at the bar, towards Ellie and he had felt it himself, locked it away to the back of his mind and the coldest depths of his shriveled up heart.

“Bet you haven’t said a word back to her, huh?” Tommy was grinning again as he kept fucking talking, and Joel’s brow furrowed, glaring at the trees on either side of the trail now.

“You’re right,” Joel mumbled, eyes narrowing for a split second as he lets your image pass through his mind for once, before quickly shaking it away. “She’s too kind.”

With that, he nudges his horse forward more, cutting off any further conversation as they head back to Jackson.

Back to his house, right next to the temptation of you.

That night, sleep didn’t come easy for you.

You found yourself tossing and turning, mind racing with suppressed memories each time you managed to drift off into a light slumber, jerking back awake with an exhausted sigh at the images that plagued your mind when you did get a tiny bit of rest.

When it became a vicious cycle that clearly wasn’t about to be interrupted if you kept lying there, you decided to get up for a bit. And as you pulled your faded robe around yourself, digging through your bedside table for the lighter and small pack of cigarettes you really tried not to indulge in, that was when you heard it.

Muffled, and for a moment you thought maybe you were imagining it, hearing things from a lack of sleep, but the more you focused on it, the more you were certain that it was coming from somewhere.

You followed the sounds, drifting towards your front door, and when you realized you were getting closer, you cracked it open to stick your head out, eyes searching through the darkness of the night to find the source of it.

Music.

It was clear now, no longer muffled, letting you know that this wasn’t being played through an old machine, but from an instrument, right here and now. Gentle too, as if not to disturb the peace of the night, but you thought that the melodic strumming made the air warmer, comfortable, and you found yourself stepping outside of your house onto your porch to find whoever was playing it.

When you realized it was coming from close to your right, you felt surprised at the idea before you even saw him to confirm it.

Joel Miller, the man with the most dour countenance in Jackson, was sitting out on his porch, strumming a guitar with the most serene expression you had ever seen from him.

It was such a sharp contrast to the severity you had only ever seen his face set in, that you found yourself openly staring at the unexpected sight.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice you peeking out your front door to gawk at him, his brows still pinched together as they usually were, but without the stern demeanor he always showed.

There was something more relaxed about the furrow of that strong brow now, out of concentration on his playing instead of giving a faint air of disapproval to everyone and thing that he had the misfortune of having to deal with.

Like you.

You frowned then, knowing that the last thing he probably wanted to deal with right now was you. Every time you met with him, he was rushing away from you as quickly as he could, clearly eager to be rid of your presence.

But as you shifted now to slip back into your home unseen, there was the faintest creak of your front door, and you froze, eyes widened as you stared down at the lighter and cigarettes still clutched in your hand, horrified at the feeling of the weight of his gaze snapping to you at the sound.

You remained frozen, halfway inside your house, breath quickening as the intensity of his eyes on you didn’t alleviate.

If anything, it worsened, your skin prickling with heat—embarrassment, most likely—as he stared at you, and you cleared your throat, daring a peek around the edge of your doorframe at him.

Joel’s eyes met yours then, a hint of surprise in that dark gaze, and you gripped your things tighter when you realized it wasn’t completely closed off, as you had always seen until now.

You cleared your throat, briefly pondering over the wisdom of what you were about to do before your head poked around the door completely and the greeting slipped out anyway, “Evening.”

A thick eyebrow arched at your voice, and your skin suddenly felt even hotter when his own voice responded, deep and a bit thick, as if unused for a while or if he had just woken up recently, “Bit past evening.”

An awkward laugh slipped past your lips, a subconscious attempt to cover up the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, and you gave a hesitant smile that his gaze narrowed in on when you said, “Ah, well, I suppose you got me there, Mr. Miller.”

Joel stared at your mouth for a split second longer before his head turned back down to the guitar in his lap, though his fingers had stopped moving along the strings. You stared at where they were resting against them now, trying to control your breathing as you told yourself he was not just staring at your lips. He was too far away, and it was too dark to really tell. You had definitely been seeing things.

But then your gaze slipped up to where his other hand was wrapped around the neck of the guitar, his fingers tapping along the chords he had just been pressing down on, and even from your own porch next door you could see the length, the thickness of them, something you had noticed before and fantasized about before he heard—

You cleared your throat, turning your face away when you felt his attention move back towards you at the unintentional sound you had made.

Staring back inside your home, you knew you should escape inside of it, that you shouldn’t attempt to continue any further conversation with your grumpy neighbor, but again, you found yourself speaking before you could stop yourself, “It sounded nice.”

You held back a wince, mentally berating yourself for trying to give a compliment on his guitar playing that you had blatantly eavesdropped on, and such a stupid compliment at that.

“I—uh—” you hedged, shifting on your feet as you flipped back and forth between wanting to explain yourself and wanting to hide from this embarrassing interaction, but once again, you found yourself filling the silence between you like you always did when faced with Joel, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just—I heard it, and was curious where it was coming from, so…”

Silence fell again when you found no more words to say, holding in a deep sigh as you wondered what you were doing here. What were you ever doing when it came to Joel Miller?

You were convinced the man didn’t like you. Maybe he even hated you.

So why were you always so eager to speak to him, trying to get him not to leave?

Why did you always watch with disappointment whenever he did?

Your lips parted again, to say goodnight this time, when his voice filled the night air before yours could, “Can’t sleep?”

Breath catching in your throat, you felt your heart skip a beat as you turned to look back at him.

Joel’s head was turned down towards his guitar again, fingers sliding along the neck of the guitar to find a new chord before plucking the strings a few times, letting a new, lighter tune fill the air with just a few notes before glancing back towards you.

Unable to find the words to speak then, you shook your head slowly, the hand clutching your cigarettes pressed right against where your heart pounded in your chest before you whispered a shaky, “No.”

You didn’t know if he would even be able to hear you, but the night was dead quiet other than the few notes Joel would play every now and then, and he nodded at your answer before murmuring just as quietly, “Yeah, me neither.”

At the somber admission, you softened, brows furrowing as you glanced over his face. Joel had always seemed so serious to the point of being grievous, guarded by so many walls after walls that you wouldn’t know the first thing about breaking through even the first set of barriers.

But there was something about his face just in this moment, a relaxation in the hard lines of his face that didn’t paint him as being so grim, so frigid.

Just…

Tired.

Weary.

Exhausted.

And you were stepping out onto your porch before you could think twice, not giving yourself the time to muse over how Joel always seemed to pull actions from you with no thoughts, holding up the cigarettes and lighter with a simple question of, “Would you like a smoke?”

Joel’s fingers froze on the guitar again, looking back up to glance over towards your face, and you held your breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable reaction of him getting up and heading back inside his house without so much as a rejection, letting his actions speak loud enough for themselves.

You were even ready to head back inside to try and fail to get more sleep tonight when Joel changed the trajectory of everything with a simple, “Sure.”

Your head snapped back around, wide eyes landing on Joel to see him looking down at his guitar again. He wasn’t playing anymore, just staring down at the strings underneath his fingers, and for a moment you wondered if you had imagined him replying until he huffs out a sigh.

Joel looks up to you then with a blank expression, his hand raising from the neck of his guitar to beckon you over with a wave of two of those long fingers towards himself, and some part of your subconscious was embarrassed by how quickly your feet moved down your porch steps at the come here gesture.

In the moment, you were too distracted by your racing heartbeat as you turned to walk up his pathway, a gentle breeze brushing past making you pull your robe tighter around yourself, face heating as you remembered that you were still in your sleep clothes, but you were too far now to turn back.

You hopped up the steps, and even though it wasn’t your first time standing on Joel Miller’s porch, it felt different. Maybe it was the fact that he was lounging on it, guitar sitting casually in his lap, not hovering inside the house ready to slam the door in your face.

Or maybe it was the vulnerability in you standing before him in your pajamas, and you hoped he couldn’t see how flustered you were as you slowly made your way over to him. Keeping a good distance between you, your hand outstretched to offer the cigarettes and lighter to him first, blinking in confusion when he lifted his hand again to reject your offer.

“But you—”

“I don’t wanna take one of yours if you got so few,” he murmured, glancing pointedly towards the four cigarettes clutched between your fingers, and you looked towards them in surprise, not expecting this consideration from the grumpy man. “I’ll share.”

Your gaze flashed back up to his, and your eyes finally met again, without the space between your front porches separating you. Now you were standing right in front of him, about to share a cigarette with him, and your free hand clutched your robe tighter around yourself, trying to warm yourself up enough to resist a shiver, even as you knew your body’s instinctual reaction had nothing to do with the night breeze.

“Alright,” you mumbled as you quickly looked away, staring down at the cigarette you kept perched between your fingers after you slipped the others into your robe pocket.

Placing it between your lips, you cursed the way your fingers shook while trying to light the flame of your lighter, hoping for some reason that Joel wouldn’t think you some inexperienced novice, but the rapt attention you could feel focused on you wasn’t helping matters.

Eventually, you got it to light, and you were grateful for the rush of nicotine into your lungs when you breathed in, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation you hadn’t indulged in for a while. Cigarettes were not common in Jackson—for good reasons, considering how their effect on health directly opposed the concept of trying to survive in this horrid world—and you had been saving these last few for when you really needed them.

Tonight was one of those times, and you were especially glad for the way it relaxed your body, the tension in your muscles unraveling as you stood in the presence of your sulky neighbor for the longest amount of time yet.

When you opened your eyes to look back at Joel, he was still watching you, expression as unreadable as always even as his guitar sat forgotten in his lap. Your heart skipped a beat at the inscrutable intensity of his eyes, dark as the night that surrounded you, and even though you wanted to take another drag of the cigarette to try and settle your nerves again, you found yourself holding it out to him, wanting to stay true to your offer to share.

Joel’s eyes flickered down to the lit cigarette perched between your outstretched fingers, and his hand rose from the neck of his guitar before quickly stopping. His own fingers hovered in the air, twitching in hesitation before finally lifting to gingerly take the offering from you.

With the action, the length of those fingers brushed against yours for the first time, and you felt a rush through your veins stronger than that of the nicotine.

You inhaled sharply when you felt the rough texture of his fingertips against your fingers, gaze narrowing in on the length of them once again, even more intently when they were grazing yours. There had been more than one occasion when you had admired the thickness of those fingers, fantasized about the callouses from a hard life that had led him to the house next door to yours, and this was the first moment where he finally closed the distance and touched you.

It was hardly even touching you, really—you didn’t even think it was intentional. The brief graze was impossible to avoid as he took the cigarette, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed your audible reaction to it, even as the night was so silent that there couldn’t have been any way for him to miss it.

Your face heated, your hand pulling back to grab at your robe again, arms encircling around yourself as you pulled it tighter across your body in an attempt to keep your slight trembling under control. 

“You cold?”

Blinking a few times, you looked up at Joel to see he hadn’t yet looked away from you, and you felt your cheeks heat further while he parted his lips just slightly to place the cigarette between them.

“I, uh—” you cleared your throat, shaking your head quickly as you shifted back on the balls of your feet, staring down at them as you realized, shoot, were you really barefoot right now too? “No. I’m fine.”

Joel hummed, a short sound that neither said if he believed you or if he was unconvinced of what you said. It was purely an acknowledgement that he had heard you, offering no opinion on what you had said, and you peeked a glance back up at him, relaxing a fraction when you saw he was finally looking away from you again.

For a moment, you dared to hope he wouldn’t say anything else—an odd thing to hope, considering you were always trying to get the man to say more than a few words to you every time you ran into him—but when he pulled the cigarette out from his mouth, he let out a few words along with the smoke he breathed out, “Didn’t think you were the type.”

Your brows furrowed, leaning forward now as you asked, “What type?”

Joel’s eyes met yours again, lifting the cigarette up as a silent answer to your question before he took another drag of it, and you laughed quietly as you watched him breathe out the smoke again.

“Why not?” you asked, watching the breeze carrying his smoke away from the both of you. 

Joel paused, glancing over your face as if he wasn’t expecting you to question his comment, before saying slowly, “Well…you’re…”

You arched an eyebrow as he trailed off, a smile slowly curling onto your lips, and now it was his turn to look away, taking another quick drag of the cigarette as you repeated, “I’m…?”

Joel huffed out the smoke this time, and you watched the puff of it linger in the air before a shift in the breeze carried it right towards your face, and you cursed the heat it sent ricocheting through your body as his gruff voice replied, “You’re…sweet.”

A laugh slipped past your lips before you could stop it, a sound of pure surprise at the comment, and Joel glanced back at you with just as much surprise in his gaze at the sound.

Maybe there was also surprise at his own comment in that dark gaze, and you felt shocked again as a different warmth curled inside of you than the one you just felt, a considerably more dangerous one that made your heart race and throat dry, having to clear your throat before you croaked out, “I can’t smoke because I’m sweet?”

“I—” Joel cut himself off, shaking his head as he looked back down at the guitar in his lap, blinking rapidly a couple times like he had forgotten that it had been there to begin with. “Nevermind. Forget it.”

Now it was your turn to hum, a sound that acknowledged you heard him and nothing more, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile when he shot you a glare before passing the cigarette back to you.

There was a thrill there, undeniable in this strange dynamic between you at this moment, and in the way the length of his rough fingers brushed against yours again when you took the cigarette back. You lifted it to your mouth by reflex, feeling that initial heat return when Joel watched you smoke, your breath hitching with the nicotine still held in your lungs as you tasted him mixed in with the flavor.

Mint. Toothpaste? Something else too, heady—some kind of alcohol. Whiskey, maybe. An odd combination, indicating that he had probably brushed his teeth and then indulged in a drink after, and you didn’t think it would be so intensely delicious, but your mind was swimming with the taste as you watched him watch you smoke before your eyes darted away again.

Had he tasted you too? You thought in the back of your mind, looking down at the dwindling cigarette. What did you taste like to him? Sweet? Why had he called you sweet? He had called you sweet.

Joel Miller thought you were sweet.

He had made it sound almost distasteful, yes—but he had said you were sweet.

“It was a bad habit,” you say quietly, staring down at your bare feet, noticing how you had lied—you were cold, but you were trying to ignore it, trying to focus on the strange, unmistakable warmth that came from being in your grumpy neighbor’s presence without him shoving you away. “Back in the QZ. It was a considerably better vice than some other ones.”

Joel grunted, the sound similar to his hum—he had heard you, but offered no insight to your revelation.

When you looked over at him though, you saw him watching you intently, yet with less intensity than just a moment before, and you found yourself elaborating further even though he didn’t ask—because he never asked, never cared, yet you spoke to him anyway, “I did quit for a while after—”

You sucked in a sharp breath, looking back down at the cigarette in your fingers again, stomach turning unpleasantly as you realized what you were about to let slip. Your only hope was that Joel would show the same disinterest he always did, letting the unfinished comment pass, but then his deep drawl reached your ears, “After what?”

The only thing you could manage was a small shake of your head, still staring down at the cigarette before you lifted it back to your lips for another deep inhale of the smoke, eyes slipping shut as you tried to replace the rush of memories with the more pleasant rush of nicotine instead.

Joel didn’t say anything else then, and you were grateful for his familiar detachment, more silence descending between you until quiet music took its place.

Eyes opening, you looked down at Joel as he gently strummed his guitar a few times before stopping, feeling the weight of your gaze back on him as you said quietly, “I didn’t know you played guitar.”

He grunted again, head lowered as he watched his fingers slowly begin to move over the strings once more, plucking a few of them to create a slow partial melody, and you were sure that would be it, the same noncommittal answer you always got from him, before he replied bluntly, “No reason for you to know.”

You laughed again, a quiet chuckle, watching his fingers pause on the strings once more with the sound as you whispered, “No, I suppose there’s not.”

Silence fell again, and it brought with it a renewed tension, an unspoken buildup pressing around you. You would never admit to him, or anyone, that you wanted to know. There was a bubbling curiosity about the man who lived next door to you, a desire to know him—to understand him. Why he was so abruptly ill-humored, why he pushed you away every time you so much as approached him even as you hardly ever got that close.

Why he let you approach now, sharing a cigarette with you as he slowly strummed his guitar to create a quiet stream of music that relaxed you more than your smoke.

Dangerous feelings. Very, very dangerous feelings.

Lust for your sullen neighbor, you could reluctantly accept. You could fantasize about his big hands, the broadness of his back, the scratch of his beard—when your window was firmly shut—without ever having to act on it. So much time had passed since you had indulged in a physical relationship with somebody, you accepted by this point that a little bit of desire for such a handsome man was normal.

But this? 

Stomach fluttering, heart racing, mind spinning when he stopped playing his guitar to look back up at you with those unreadable brown eyes that you wanted to dive into and decipher every secret hidden away in his soul—

No.

No.

Too dangerous.

So you quickly changed the conversation to something else, something safe, a question you had genuinely been wondering slipping from your lips as you asked, “How’s Ellie doing?”

Joel glanced up at you, the carefully neutral expression he almost always kept on his face fading to look of genuine surprise before he composed himself and grunted, “Good.”

You nodded slowly, a soft smile slipping onto your face, glad to hear that the young girl was doing well. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled, his eyes flickering over your face, his gaze a bit more contemplative than sharply analytical, before he quickly turned his head away from you. “Yeah, she’s settling in just fine.”

“That’s great,” you said kindly, your smile growing a bit larger, unable to help the light teasing tone as you leaned forward and added quietly, “Bet she has those daisies to thank for it.”

Joel turned back to you then, surprise flickering over his face again as your friendly smile grew into a grin, a tiny giggle slipping from your lips at his astonishment towards your joking reminder of your second conversation with the man.

You saw it then.

A tiny twitch of his lips, the corner of them pulling up just slightly, a brief warmth spreading through the depths of his eyes as he fought back the beginnings of a smile before turning away again.

Joel was shaking his head, lowered in a way you couldn’t see his face, but your heart was racing now, feeling nearly lightheaded as you processed what you had just seen.

He smiled.

Joel Miller had smiled.

You had made him smile.

It was barely a smile, yes, and he had tried to stop it, but—Lord, he had looked so gorgeous in that moment when amusement had passed through his features, his face relaxing from its severity for just a split moment before he quickly composed himself.

Warmth flooded your chest and bloomed through your face, and you looked down at the cigarette in your fingers, only just then noticing how dangerously burnt out it was getting as you had been too distracted by Joel to keep smoking it.

With a quiet sigh, you dropped it to the porch, before realizing once again that you had forgotten to put on shoes before leaving your house. You frowned down at the dwindling cigarette, unsure what to do about putting it out when a worn boot entered your field of vision, carefully stomping out the cigarette, and your head snapped up to see Joel standing very much within your space now.

His gaze was focused down on the cigarette beneath his shoe, flickering back up to you for a split moment, and you were stunned by how handsome this grim man was when he was this close, closer to you than he had ever been. Joel’s strange magnetism was palpable this close to you, and you felt the strongest urge to lean closer, to observe more closely the strong slope of his nose, the wrinkles, the few scars you could now clearly see decorating his stern face before he turned away again.

You expected Joel to step away then, maybe to head back inside and close the door in your face like always.

But he stayed.

He moved towards the railing, resting his elbows on it as he leaned forward, somehow balancing a line of not being right in your space while also not leaving it completely.

You were intoxicated by the close proximity, biting your lip as you glanced over the broadness of his back as it flexed through his jacket when he leaned over the railing. It was uncertain whether this was an invitation to join him, but you slowly did so anyway, keeping a small amount of space between you to be respectful even as you didn’t have the strength to remove yourself from his presence just yet.

Your elbow rested on the railing, placing your chin in your hand as your eyes trailed up and down the darkness of the street in front of your houses. Every light was off down the street at this time, and there was something peaceful about the silence in the dead of a starry Jackson night, a strange sense that maybe you weren’t in a doomed world when it was asleep and tranquil like this.

Of course, you knew better. You knew what laid beyond the tall walls around your settlement all too well.

But in that moment, you felt more at peace than you had in years. You and Joel stood side by side, silence falling between you that you felt no need to fill for once, at ease by how it nearly felt companionable. 

Maybe you were just delusional.

Sneaking a glance out of the corner of your eye at the older man’s face, your heart skipping a beat at seeing the curve of his nose from his ruggedly handsome side profile—yeah, definitely delusional.

You gave into the temptation to watch him silently for a moment longer, admiring his features when they didn’t look so disapproving of your mere existence, fingers tapping against your cheek before you finally looked away, pushing yourself up off the railing with a sigh.

“I should—”

“How do you—”

You paused in the same moment Joel did, your eyes meeting his as you waited for him to finish what he was going to say.

When he didn’t, and you felt your gazes locked for far too long to be normal, your heart lurched into your throat, swallowing hard around the lump it formed as you croaked out, “How do I what?”

“Uh—” Joel blinked a few times at the sound of your voice, as if pulled out of some kind of stupor, and you could almost see his mind searching for something to say as his head turned back out towards the street before the words rushed out of his mouth, “How do you press a flower?”

Silence fell then as you stared at the back of Joel’s head when it turned from you, noticing the way his gray tinged hair was getting long enough to curl at the ends. Your mind was trying to make sense of his question, but it was so odd, so out of the blue, that your lips parted to mumble a confused, “Huh?”

“It’s Ellie,” Joel explained quickly, his large hands curling around the railing to grip it tightly, and your heart skipped a beat as you mused on how strong that grip was, how it would feel on your body, before his words pulled you out of your fantasies back to the moment, “She wants to press some flowers or…”

His head turned slightly, eyes finding you again, and you were startled by the shred of uncertainty in his gaze before he turned his head away again and mumbled, “Or something.”

“Oh,” you said softly, your body relaxing at the revelation, a smile growing on your face as you leaned back against the railing to try and catch Joel’s eye while you said brightly, “I can show her how, if she wants.”

Joel’s head lifted again, eyes meeting yours with hardly any distance between you, and your breath caught in your throat at the dark depths of his unreadable gaze and you stuttered quickly, “I mean—well—if you’re okay with that, of course.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you from that short distance, his lips parting to speak, but when your gaze was drawn to them at the movement—so full and pink, god how did a man’s lips look so pretty—no sound came out, his mouth hanging open for another long moment before he said lowly, “Yeah, that’d be fine.”

Your eyes flashed back up to his, and there was a darkness to them now, your pulse thumping quick and hard under your skin, as if lurching towards him at the new intensity in his gaze and that voice, that Southern drawl so deep, nearly a rasp as you—

Blinking rapidly as you realized you had started to lean in a fraction, you jerked back, pushing yourself off the railing to take a few large steps back from your neighbor.

“Great,” you said quickly, stumbling towards the porch steps as you stuttered, “That’s, uh, that’s great. Totally great. Yeah, just—”

You shot out a hand to the banister to catch yourself when you almost fell down a step, cheeks heating as you ignored Joel step away from the railing and towards you, as if preparing himself to catch you if you fell, and you said far too loudly, “Um, yeah, just send her over sometime if she wants to learn about flowers.”

Your head was still turned towards Joel, but your eyes were unseeing, not taking anything in at the moment as you nodded quickly before spinning on your heel and hurrying down the pathway.

It wasn’t until you were back on your own porch, pulling open your front door, when you heard the words as soft as the breeze that brushed past you to cool down your heated face.

“Thank you.”

Joel’s head was turned away from you again when you dared a glance back, wondering if you had actually heard him thank you or not, when he spoke again, “For the smoke.”

Nodding quickly before realizing he couldn’t see you with the way he wasn’t facing you, you mumbled a quick, “Anytime,” before you could think twice of it, rushing back inside the safety of your home right after.

You placed your hands against your hot cheeks as you slumped against the door, head falling back against it as you focused on slowing your breathing, your mind racing as fast as your heart with danger, danger, danger.

Because now you knew you completely, hopelessly, irrevocably had a giant, embarrassing crush on your grumpy neighbor Joel Miller.

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers @orcasoul @bitchwitch1981 @dlwrish @within-the-depths @pedrobaby @jupiter-soups @dissentientss @paleidiot

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

    First cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. You thought maybe having Dave around would make it less clunky. Irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

    Everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your non trusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. But it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. Like it was your karma. 

    “I watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. You seemed very passionate about it, almost like Hotch–” You held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. You were an expert. A leader in your field. It just happened that your field was the one Hotchner literally wrote the book about. You would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “Why did you transfer?” 

    “Not the pay, that I can assure you.” That earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at Rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit. 

    “She was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” Aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. You nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. It was yours first anyway.

    “Familiarity with the way Hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” Some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like Dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. Still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease Aaron, even if only a bit. 

    “Familiarity is a way to put it, huh? Most of his methodology was created with me.” Scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity. 

    “Maybe write a book about it then.” Two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. Or maybe kiss him. 

    “I thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. It doesn’t. I’m too old for this now.” Dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand. 

    First two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with Derek, Dave or Spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles. 

    You do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to Emily or losing to Reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. And it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

    Connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and Hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together. 

    Still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. And you usually do. 

    Las Vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

    You take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your FBI jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information. 

    “Sunscreen? You know I don’t–” 

    “Don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” Aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions. 

    “What about the smell?” He’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him. 

    “It’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, I’m wearing it.” You’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy. 

    His cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… You. He could recognize it from a mile away. He thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. And when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

[peach-top]

➤ ❝𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙐𝙍𝙀❞

➤ 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞. | 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜.

➤ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: nah

The next day, Sebastian let out a frustrating sigh once the young scientist arrived into his room. [Y] greeted Sebastian with a bright smile on his face which made the fishman more annoyed.

“Ugh. It's you again…” Sebastian huffed.

“Yep, it's me.” [Y] beamed before grabbing a lollipop from his pocket, “And I brought more lollipops~”

“Gimme.” The fishman huffed. The young scientist swiped the lollipop from Sebastian's reach, “First, let us get to know each other.”

“Why should I?” Sebastian deadpanned.

“Because it's important to bond with another. I don't give up so easily. Just like my mother says: “Don’t y'all give up and keep moving y'all ass forward”. So…I won't stop until you're open to me.” [Y] grinned with determination. Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows, “You literally just said yesterday that you won't force me to open up to you.”

“To me, that's different. So~ Let us start, shall we?” The young scientist winked. “I'll start. Ahem! I'm [Y] [L]. Aged 19. Born in a farmyard with eleven older sisters and two older brothers. I'm by far the youngest.”

“The fuck? That's like…1…2…3…14 of you. How did your mom survive that shit?” Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

“That's something I'm not sure about. She's a strong woman even when she's close to her 60s. Which is the reason why I became a doctor and a scientist to be sure she's perfectly healthy.” The young scientist explained.

“And…here it is…” the young scientist shows off a photo of his family on the farm. Sebastian's eyes widened, “Damn. That's a lot of them…”

“Right? Which is enough to help ma and da with the farm. It's a…crazy farm, but it's fun.” [Y] chuckled.

“...” Sebastian is sitting quietly and listening to the young scientist’s tale, but he's curious. “How come you don't have a southern accent?”

“Y'all think I can't keep up with these words without my accent? No. Do ya know how hard it is to stay professional as a scientist?” [Y] asked in a southern accent, catching Sebastian by surprise. “But I'm only using that accent when I'm angry. Ma has that anger issue going on. She can get madder than a hen.” (this part kinda hurts to write, i'm trying😭)

Sebastian snorted, “You seem like a completely different person when speaking in that accent.”

“Force of habit.” The young scientist spoke in a normal voice. Sebastian hummed, “...You're lucky to have a family to go to instead of being imprisoned here for something you've never done…”

“...I can tell you have a mother. What's she like?” [Y] questioned. “But...you don't need to tell me if you don't want to.”

“...” The fishman only knows this young scientist for a day and he's starting to trust him. But he doesn't trust him enough to physically touch or befriend him. There's still some way to go. “...You know, like how some mothers are. Sweet, loving, gentle, and always love you no matter what. But what's worse you can get…is a look of sadness and disappointment on her face when she finds out that her son was convicted of 9 murders that he never committed.”

“And yet…he'll never be able to see his family after he…he turned into this…” Sebastian growled, observing himself. “Being stuck here and turned into a monster is worse than receiving a death sentence. Those bastards did this to us.”

The fishman then rises up from his bed, raising his voice, “We are forced to become monsters! What did I do to deserve this, huh?! Why?!”

“I just want to prove my innocence! Clear my name! And go back to my family! It hurts! It fucking hurts…” Sebastian whimpered, covering his face to hide the tears from [Y]’s view as he slowly slid his back against the wall and plopped down on the bed. “...I fucking hate it here…I want to go home…”

“...” [Y] frowned and was going to say something, but the senior scientist called in to the young scientist. “Dr. [L]. Your time. Is. Up. Leave it be and move onto the next one. Now.”

“...” The young scientist furrowed his eyebrows at the senior scientist. He turned his attention back to Sebastian and handed him two lollipops. Sebastian didn't accept it and plopped face-first in bed, so [Y] left the suckers on the nightstand and a sticker on a wrapper. He whispered, “We'll continue this tomorrow and figure something out.”

“...” Sebastian turned away, facing the wall.

[Y] let out a sigh before leaving the room with the senior scientist. After they left, Sebastian turned to the lollipops on the nightstand.

“...I don't need his pity…” Sebastian muttered, gripping on the pillow. “I don't…I just…want to go home…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

[Y] arrived into the underwater laboratory. The senior scientist forced him to only take one minute. Why the fucking change? Jealous? Anger? Disappointment? [Y] doesn't care if he disappointed his senior unless it's his mother.

The deal doors open up, revealing Eyefestation who was waiting for the young scientist’s arrival. What's more interesting is that they're wagging their tail. They must've become interested in [Y].

“Aw, did you miss me? I've come just as I promise. However, I am forced to stay for only one minute.” [Y] huffed with his hands on his hips. “Sounds very unfair, right? Which means I won't be with you for long. But hey, I think I might know what can keep you company.”

“...?” Eyefestation tilted their head.

“I've decided that I can bring my glowing goldfish tomorrow and…sneak them in the tank with you.” [Y] whisper the last part, “Please don't eat them. They've been wanting friends for a long time. And I thought that you might need someone to accompany you while I'm gone.”

“FrIeNd…?”

“Someone who can be close to you and never leave your side. A companion. So like, you can swim around with Ziya. I'm sure you two will be best of friends.” [Y] grinned. “...Geez…if only I can set you all free. Being here can be such a hassle.”

“It's always so dark and bland. There's nothing to do here. Where are those times where you all can finally see the light? The green? The sky?” The young scientist questioned as he observed the dark area. “This is like a factory holding a bunch of animals hostage while pretending to be a good company that—”

The glass window was sealed before the young scientist could finish his sentence. That fucking senior scientist interrupted him and one minute wasn't even up yet!

“Excuse me? It hasn't been 1 minute yet.” [Y] glared at the senior scientist. The senior scientist scoffed, “One minute. Check the other monsters. Don't waste anymore time and keep your mouth shut.”

“Tch! It pissed me off how you even allowed me to do this and yet you won't let me do my job properly.” [Y] growled.

“You're a scientist. Act professional. There's no optimism here at Hadal Blacksite. Understood?” The senior scientist furrowed their eyebrows.

“...What-fuckin-ever…” [Y] huffed. He softly tapped on the seal and gave Eyefestation a soft “see you tomorrow” before following the senior scientist out of the underwater lab.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Life sucks, why the fuck did they even give him 30 seconds to communicate with the monsters or is it just the senior scientist? Bullshit. Maybe…

“So, I would like a 30 minute communication with the monsters. I was able to communicate with them without any harm.” [Y] explained to another senior scientist. “You see, Dr. ███████ wouldn't allow me to communicate with them a little longer. It's part of my job as a recruiter. I can't get to a higher rank if Dr ███████ wouldn't allow me to. So, you don't mind me as a scientist, may I have a 30 minute interview?”

“...You do have a great degree. Your optimism isn't suitable for a professional, however…you are the only one who was able to keep them in check, so it wouldn't hurt to give you 30 minutes. Starting tomorrow.”

[Y] clasped his hands together, “I was hoping for more time today, but tomorrow is great.”

The young scientist then sent Dr ███████ a smug look, “See ya tomorrow, doc?’

“Tch!”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“You seem to be working a dangerous job. Are ya sure ain't harm this time?” [Y]’s mother asked after her youngest son showed her some pictures from the Hadal Blacksite.

“Nah. I'm fine. Fresher than a fresh apple.” [Y] grinned.

“Ya don't seem to mind handling these dangerous tasks, huh?” the eldest sister raised her eyebrows. “I'm sorry that these monsters might harm ya.”

“They're not monsters. They're just hostages who were forced to be experimented on which is why I'm planning to find a way to expose the dark company and their scheme.” [Y] explained. “Sis. You're a chief officer, ya got those documents I can research on…Sebastian Solace?”

“Sebastian Solace? You mean that man who committed 9 murders? Why?”

“He's one of those experiments that was declared dead. Z-13…” [Y] said, placing the files on the table for his elder sister to grab. The elder sister observed the files and she was…not surprised, “I knew it. They're up to something, but it isn't enough evidence to expose the company. We'll need more.”

The elder sister’s twin brother led over and checked the files, “I've heard of that company. They took some of our animals, didn't they? Cuz’ we mistaken them as a company that helps animals.”

“Yup. That's the one.”

“Let us try to figure something out in order to have them exposed. We should collect more evidence.” [Y] hummed.

“But ya gotta be careful now, sugar plum. It could lead to you being killed.” The mother frowned.

“Don't worry, ma. I'll be alright.” [Y] smiled. “Promise…”

“Mm.” The father muttered. That's right, the father couldn't speak, all he could do was mutter. “Mm. Mm.”

“It's ok, da. As your youngest son, I'm doing my best to try to free them from that rotten place.” The young scientist smiled.

╭      ⁞ ❏. facts

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y]’s siblings name all start with b

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y]’s mother will bake pie for sebastian who [y] told her about

┊      ⁞ ❏. [y] will one day get in contact with sebastian's mother

➤ prev.

➤ next.

[jillgirlfriends]

scream characters on the beach

pairing: billy loomis, stu macher, jill roberts, liv mackenzie, ethan landry x fem!reader

warnin: it's just headcanons

billy loomis

billy actually likes the beach, especially sunbathing. he can go for a swim and then relax in the sun. be prepared for girls to stare at your hot guy, and so you'll be sitting next to him all the time and giving girls a sight that says: "that's my man, bitches."

you also help your boyfriend put on sunscreen and omg his skin is like heaven his skin is so smooth and feels nice especially his back you can stare at him for a long time and billy naturally notices it and makes fun of you afterwards.

billy will definitely compliment your looks and especially your swimsuit or bikini, but he will also definitely be jealous of the guys who dared to show off on you. if some idiot dares to approach you, billy is already thinking about killing this bastard.

when the sunset comes, you and your boyfriend will eat ice cream and look at the beautiful view. billy really likes these relaxing moments, which unfortunately are rare. in these moments, he finally rests and is not with people he hates, especially his father.

stu macher

this guy loves the beach! he will have a blast, goof off, act like an idiot and just enjoy the moment. he will definitely annoy you and his favorite thing to do is to blow poor billy's mind.

stu will definitely go swimming and he is also really good at surfing. honestly he looks really hot in these moments.. especially with that stupid smirk.

he will help you choose a swimsuit, not too revealing and not too closed. something in between. because, stu is a jealous person and does not want some pervert to spy on you. he will pout if you do not like his choice, in any case, you will wear what he chose.

stu will fool around, run here and there, he will also make you swim with him if you suddenly don't like swimming. He can pick you up in his arms and run as fast as he can into the water.

in general, with this wonderful tall guy you will definitely not get bored

jill roberts

and here is the first person who doesn't like the beach. you tried to persuade your girlfriend to go to the beach with you, and somewhere around the 500th try.. jill gave in and as a result you went to this damn beach together.

you will have paired swimsuits. they don't look too revealing and they are also lacy. this is all so that no perverts will stare at you both.

she definitely doesn't know how to swim, but she will say the opposite and when she went into the water.. she almost drowned, and you immediately helped her. you covered her with a towel and dried her from the water. but, after.. jill liked this feeling of cold water and with your help she will learn to swim. I swear, this girl will not get out of the water, explaining that it is hot.

jill just hates tanning, she is very afraid of ruining her crystal clear and pale skin. you think that she looks like an aristocrat, and she will jokingly say that this is true.

and then in the evening you both dry each other's hair with a towel and go home. jill admits that she really enjoyed this beach day, especially this cool water.

liv mackenzie

your girlfriend will agree to this idea, but you will go to the beach with your group of friends. liv will only relax in the sun, and will definitely not be active.

you will both lie under an umbrella and enjoy the day, sipping the most delicious cocktails together and chatting with each other about anything.

at some point, liv will notice amber sunbathing.. but she forgot to put on sunscreen and after that you both will laugh at freeman for a long time because she was completely red and sunburned. amber sunbathed in shame all day and will run away to the beach house so that no one would see her like that. you and liv will think that she deserved it because she is such a bitch.

liv can easily float in the water for a while, just enjoying the feeling of coolness on such a hot day.

your girlfriend will get a nice tan and will brag about it to you. her tan was really beautiful and went well with her pink hair.

you and a group of friends booked a hotel and you had such a wonderful dinner together. there was a lot of food and you and your whole group of friends had dinner at a big table. while amber sat in a black sweatshirt and completely hid her tanned body, and tara was comforting her at that time. you and liv looked at each other with sly smiles and thought about the same thing.

- why is this beautiful girl not noticed and nothing is written about? liv deserves attention.. i need stories with her. 😭

ethan landry

the poor guy had no choice, you didn't even ask him. you said about the beach and he, like an obedient boy, agreed and nodded. where you go, there he goes.

ethan definitely won't tan, he hates it. he had an incident in his childhood when he decided to tan and ended up forgetting to put on sunscreen. he was completely red for a long time, and his classmates and quinn and richie made fun of him. so, this topic is painful for him and he swore to himself that he will never tan.

this guy is a real pervert and we all know it, he will stare at you in your swimsuit as if he was hypnotized. he didn't even blink and looked at your body. only on the third time he heard you. when a convenient moment comes, he will stare at you and your body. especially, this pervert watched you when you were relaxing under an umbrella. he stayed next to you on purpose.

ethan doesn't like swimming, he only swam once all day and then came back to you and immediately started his activity. he had a great view of your body, especially when you were lying under the umbrella.

he will definitely read books and you will also join him for the company.

ethan would ask you, embarrassed and burning with shame, about him applying sunscreen to your body. and he was lucky. he gently smeared the cream on your body, and even gave you a massage for your shoulders.

you both will spend time under the umbrella and then go back to the hostel.

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Bonus Poll!

The winner of the poly ship bracket vs the most popular (and honestly, only) Buggy ship of the duo bracket!

Propaganda under the cut. [contains some spoilers]

Propaganda for Cross Guild:

Idk there's something about three people who hate each other that just works.

they don't need no propaganda. I could never make propaganda like buggy the clown does in canon

mr. pathetic (buggy) paired with two actual warlords who could (but haven't !) demolished him ? it has to be love

Crocodile and Mihawk are a fucked up rich ass couple and Buggy is the chihuahua in their purse

CROSSGUILDCROSSGUILD XXX

Its cross guild. you know why (mod: as an anime-only fan, I don't, but I'm looking forward to find out 😂)

Propaganda for Shanks x Buggy:

What if we were childhood friends who gave up our drama for each other then never saw each other again for years

What can I say, I'm a fellow shuggy truther too 🤝

Shanks obviously adores Buggy, and Buggy is so tsundure~! Mr 'I hate Shanks'-but-will-take-every-opportunity-to-talk-about-him-and-be-with-him.

Oden says in his journal that he can't tell if they're friends of enemies, and I just love that. Plus when you add in the revelation about Shanks and Buggy in the recent chapters.

They're childhood friends. They're exes. They've been married for 20 years. They're opposites. They're the same. They're silly goofy guys who make me want to cry my heart out. Red/Blue is always meant to be.

Buggy """""HATES""""" Shanks. This hate is so strong that he WILL yell at this red-haired bastard despite the fact that he is a coward, who is terrified of all the Emperors. Everyone thinks this is strange. However, when you grow up with said Emperor on the same boat, watching him stumble over his feet as he's trying to learn to use a sword, stuck scrubbing the whole deck because he was stupid enough to prank "Dark King" Rayleigh, and make that same stupid pouty face every time his Conqueror's Haki doesn't do anything because he is an itty bitty child, most of that fear gets pretty quelled. Also, that same fucker lost an arm because he's a DUMBASS and he deserves to be made fun of for it (not because Buggy is worried and missed him not at all no no Shanks is just DUMB and needs to be TOLD he is dumb more. But just by Buggy. Because Buggy has known his idiocy forever. He has earned the right to yell at this stupid, stupid Emperor for being a self-sacrificing fool and for giving away that stupid hat and... Wait, hang on, when did this bastard get hot!? WHAT THE FUC-) And Shanks just keeps smiling at Buggy and his antics because he has 100% been in love with him since they were children (his actions while they were on the Roger pirates are the DEFINITION of pigtail-pulling as flirting) and he is just happy to see that he's safe while being exactly the same larger-than-life clown he always knew. He would gladly give up his life of sluttery (that I am convinced this man has. Just look at how he exists) if Buggy would just agree to join his crew, but will not push him if he doesn't want to. He just loves his pretty clown from a distance and waits. TLDR: Buggy is mad that he's in love with Shanks and Shanks just likes existing with and/or annoying Buggy (they come as a pair). GOD I just love childhood friends to lovers bro. Just let the cabin boys kiss.

[Spoiler Warning] Red and Blue gays! Emperor husbands! Childhood friends to enemies to lovers!

[sunny44]

Unveiling the Truth

(Ruin it part.2)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

After that night Max and I never talked about it again. He went on pretending that nothing had happened and so did I but the fact that I was part of his betrayal is what haunts me every day.

Ok I don't like Kelly but I did something I wouldn't want to be done to me so I feel bad.

We were at the last race of the year and it was a weekend she was here which didn't help my guilt at all.

"Are you okay?" Pierre asks slipping his arm around my shoulders giving me a hug.

"Not much."

"Do you want to talk?"

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He agrees and I pull him into a corner. "Max and I had sex."

"WHAT?" He screams and I cover his mouth with my hand. "What?"

"That's exactly what you heard."

"How?"

"Do you really want me to explain how?"

"Ew that's not what I meant. I mean how did it happen?"

"It was after the third title celebration party, I took him back to the hotel and we fucked in my room."

"My God I've been trying to get you into bed for years and you never wanted to."

"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course, that lucky bastard."

"Pierre I'm serious, stop thinking about me naked on top of you and concentrate."

"Now that you've said that I won't be able to concentrate."

"Forget it." I walk away annoyed and he comes right behind me but Max sees us and I know he's imagining that we did the same thing he and I did at the hotel.

...

I was walking past Redbull at night with the paddock already empty when one of the engineers asked me to go into the garage and when I did he directed me to Max's drivers room where he was inside.

"What is it?"

"May I ask what you were doing with Pierre in the corner?"

"And why does that interest you?"

"Just answer the damn question." He says irritated.

"We were talking."

"The same way you and I talked that night?"

"Where's your girlfriend anyway?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter since I know she's here this weekend."

"Forget Kelly okay? Can we talk about us?"

"There is no us, that was a mistake and you shouldn't be so calm about the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend and that I helped you do it."

"I'm only calm because I don't feel the same way about her as I do about you." At this I fell silent. "She doesn't make me feel angry and want to grab you and kiss you at the same time, she doesn't make me feel good after a bad race even if I only see you in those 5 minutes of interview and she doesn't understand me like you understand do."

"Max..."

"Just say you don't feel the same way about me and I’ll pretend the best night of my life never happened and leave you alone.”

"I don't know." He takes his hands away from my face. "I never thought of you as anything other than the guy I keep picking on."

"And I'll never be anything else to you?"

"Not until you sort out your situation with her." He sighs. "I won't allow myself to feel anything for you or try to have anything with you while you're committed."

"And after that?"

"After that we're going to have to talk, because like it or not you cheated on her and as much as I was the bitch who helped you do it and that I deserve it to happen to me too, I don't want to be the next on your list."

"You're never going to be just anyone on my list, you're not even on the list, you're completely superior to anyone I've ever been involved with in my life."

"Don't say that if you don’t really mean it."

"I was serious about everything I just said."

"Okay then go find me when you sort yourself out."

...

It had been a month since our conversation and Max hadn't said anything else so I understood that he had moved on with Kelly.

Charles and Pierre had invited me to go on a trip together and as I had nothing better to do I decided to go along.

I packed all my things and my cell phone started ringing and I saw that Pierre was calling so I didn't even answer it, I just locked my apartment and went down the elevator with my things, to my surprise when I got downstairs Max was with them and smiled when he saw me.

"I didn't know you were going."

"Yeah, last minute plans."

"We're going by jet." Pierre says kissing my forehead and hugging me from the side.

"What about our tickets?"

"They don't exist, I lied because I knew that if you knew max would be along you would have given up on going."

"Good that you know me." I say putting my bag in the trunk of the car and getting in the back seat.

The walk to the runway was complete silence on my part, I was annoyed that he had ignored me all this time and now he showed up here on a trip he knew I would be on.

The boys were excited and got on the plane before me and Max who grabbed my arm as soon as the two had left my sight.

"Can you let me go?"

"Can you stop being rude to me?"

"And why should I? It wasn't enough that you ignored me and went on this trip together to annoy me and now what? Kelly is going to show up there too."

"No because we broke up."

"What?"

"I broke up with her like I told you I would and I only ignored you because I was helping her moving her stuff out of my apartment. I had to hire a moving truck to take P's stuff to her place too.”

"You could have texted you saying that."

"I know and I'm sorry, it wasn't a quiet break up and I just needed time.”

"It's okay." He let go of my arm. "Let's go before they notice we're late."

Taglist: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chelseagirl98

Ps: this will have a part 3

[lxvvie]

K.D🖤

Do you ever sit and think of how Simom 'Ghost' Riley is so enemies to lovers-he fell harder coded?

I am not remotely close to being a Ghost girlie but it just clicks personally.

He screams 'she's so beautiful, attractive even but that's it' upon meeting this lady and he gets so annoyed about feeling anything more than passing attraction. He has to convince himself at every turn that it's not that deep or serious.

Until it is because the more he resists, behaves poorly or tries to ignore the object of his constant thoughts, the more he falls. He gets so angry with himself. He's getting obnoxious, insulting her and throwing comments she rises to.

He starts to rarionalize why it would never work, why he's so unfit and how she deserves better before he shakes his head for even going down that path, so he continues to be a real jerk.

It doesn't help that everyone else loves her, or that she's so unguarded with literally any other person but with him? she's Fort Knox so he kicks himself for being the cause of that but has to justify why it's necessary. He tries to say nice things though and it comes out so so wrong. He kicks himself more.

The tension between them is no secret, the way they add such fuel to each other's fire. She never backs down from.going toe to toe with Ghost and Ghost is battling his demons and her - pleading for his sanity for him to stay away. So when another man makes her laugh or she's being kind to, he's raging. How dare another man enjoy his lady. 'his lady'?? He's appaled at himself.

Until they cave and have their moment to address their miscommunication of feelings. Ghost has ro realize how inlove he is. And then he's no longer Ghost, he's now Simon.

Simon who is insecure a small bit, Simon who hates to feel, Simon who is dying to love this firecracker, his firecracker. Simon who doesn't believe in god nit wants to worship her for all the time he has lost - he wants to be a known devotee. Simon who is entirely and utterly down bad.

yeah me neither, adieu 💋

When Ghost's walls came down and he became Simon was a story all its own. One that involved alcohol.

Liquid courage could be a right bastard but so was he and when he drunk-dialed you (to your pleasant surprise), he let the cracks break and poured his heart out.

Would he regret it? Probably. Soap, Gaz, and Price were all in earshot. Did it matter, though? Hell no.

Ghost pours his heart out and you hear Simon behind his slurred words.

He tells you he could make you smile wider, laugh harder, and worship you better than any of those other knobheads can. He can be good for you. He can protect you. He can be open for you. He tells you that it's you. That it's all always been fuckin' you.

Make an honest man out of him, yeah?

You're shocked. You can only reply demurely that he's drunk and won't remember this come morning.

You could've heard a pin drop after what Simon said next.

"M'not drunk, sweetheart. 'M in love."

[astr0exe]

ello ello,could I request some Lester from House of wax?

He doesn't get enough attention for my liking and I feel for such a dirty grimey man he deserves his own gremlin boyfriend.

I was thinking maybe a little bit of angst with smut,Maybe Bo being the-bit of bastard he is,just got done yelling at Lester so he's sad and needs his boyfriend to make him feel loved again.Maybe with knife play(don't have to if it makes you uncomfy) since he has a bunch of knives,they can be put to use aside from road kill or whatever-🙏

If not that's fine,Hope u have a good day or night<3👊✨

Lester is acc my fuckin husband:( i love him so much<3 no angst js needy Les with some knife n blood play, nd pain play :)

// CW : tm!reader , needy Lester , knife play , blood play , dacryphilia (?) , pain play , praise , subspace (??) , aftercare

Lester who basically collapses into you when he gets to your shared home, tired and annoyed from dealing with Bo all day. His rugged hands still stained with blood from roadkill, gripping tightly at your waist as he groans in your ear at how much of a pain today has been for him. “Fuckin shi, to’days been so long sweetheart.” His southern drawl sends shocks through your body even despite how long you have been together.

His lips are aggressive against yours as he whines relieved with the contact he has been craving all day. The hilt of his knife is prominent against your skin whilst he holds you close, the kiss is full of need and lust (As well as a bit of frustration). He can’t help but need you, pushing you onto the tattered leather couch in the living room. His whimpers and huffs are loud against your ear, your hands pulling him close, close enough to suck hickies onto your lovers neck. His pants are down enough to get his cock out, already hard with a red angry tip adorning the large head.

There is no foreplay, no prep. Lester needs you, and fast. So that’s what he does, he takes you. His dick entering you in one swift thrust, his knife now in his hand as the very tip is resting against the underside of your chin. You are all too aware of the cool metal on your skin, especially how deadly it is. Even as your eyes widen and the breath is stolen from you with every thrust of Lester’s hips you remain cautious. His hips don’t falter, if anything the movement becomes more aggressive, more needy. Your moans are loud, as are his, both of you are lost in the pleasure of each other, the knife trailing down your body all the bay to your hip bone and back up again.

Lester’s knife is against your cheek, catching your tears on the blade, your eyes are bleary and unfocused which matches your state of mind, unfocused and lost, floating in the pleasure and fear you are feeling. Your pretty tears set Lester off.. he can’t help it doll:(( you just look so pretty sobbing on his cock. The tip of his hunting knife moves along the skin of your cheek with more force, a tiny speckle of red showing the path of the knife. The blood collects on the blade along with your tears. Your shouts of pleasure and pain are loud and needy, making Lester’s hip pause whilst your drenched cunt clenches on him, he groans seeing your orgasm and fucked out state.

Tears running down your face, blood dripping down your cheek and your whole body shaking, your eyes blissed out as you let the pleasure of your orgasm consume you. Lester groans as he pulls out, his cum spurting all over your stomach as he moans and whines loudly, his orgasm hitting him harshly taking his breath away. You are confused when you regain your senses, your mind still clouded and hazy, wrapped up safe in Lesters arms, a blanket covering you both as he murmurs in your ear “There we are baby boy.. Tha’s a good doll.. Thank you..” his kiss on your temple is light as he holds a cold bottle of water to your lips.

You are softly brought back to your senses fully, Lester guiding you as you both cuddle up on the couch sleepily. You sigh at the attentiveness of your boyfriend, a plaster is already on your cheek and you are hydrated, now all you need is sleep and Lester by your side (same).

[i-amm-mj]

Is it really hate? - NSFW

A/n: So, this is my first post here in Tumblr... i was very nervous about posting it, but my mom didn´t raise a coward so here i am. I hope you all enjoy it, and please be kind, i´m not a native speaker and my anxious ass could´ve ommited  something. :)   

Words: 2k.

Prohero! Bakugo x reader

Warnings: NSFW themes, cunnilinguis, hate fucking?, lots of cursing. 

Summary:  You work for Bakugo at his agency, but your job is not that easy... Bakugo and you hate each other... or at least that´s what you thought. 

You hated Katsuki Bakugo. No. You loathed him with every fiber of your body…

He had been an egocentric annoying bastard since UA, constantly criticizing you and making stupid comments about your lack of talent in your field. He hated you too, that was pretty obvious. But you think that God hated you the most because you ended up working for him in his agency after the one you were working on had closed.

You didn´t know why he had accepted your job application, maybe just to keep torturing you like he used to back in high school, but today he had crossed the line…

“This is bullshit” He said making a disgusted face while holding the gauntlets you had invested an entire month to design and made “I didn´t ask for this shit”

“I just thought that you'd like an upgrade or two…”

“Are you kidding me? I´m not paying you to be “creative”, I´m fucking paying you to make what you are fucking asked for”

“I didn´t mean any- “

“Shut your fucking hole and listen for the first time in your shitty life, Y/N!” you opened your eyes in complete shock. He had a shitty attitude, that was true, but he had never talked to you like this, and you weren´t going to tolerate a man to treat you like that, not even if that man was your boss. So, you stood up from your sit and closed the distance between you and him while holding a finger up.

“Don´t you fucking dare to talk to me like that!”

“I´m your fucking boss”

“So, what!? You think you can treat your employees like shit whenever you are having a fucking bad day!?”  you raised your voice “I´m tired of your shitty attitude, not just to me but to the entire building! I have thanked you enough for the opportunity you gave me while nobody did, but I can´t and won´t take this shit anymore! I´ve tolerated you enough for years!”

“You are free to go then”

“Yes! I know! That’s why I´m fucking quitting this job right now! You will have my resignation letter first thing on the morning” you turned on your heels.

“Who are you going to work for? Nobody´s gonna give you what I gave for your shitty work” you froze. You were fuming. Was he fucking serious?

“You didn´t say that…” you said trying to control yourself.

“I fucking did” you snapped.

“You are a fucking bastard, Bakugo!” you turned so fast that you almost broke your neck but you didn´t care at the moment. “I´ve designed for Shoto, for Deku, for Uravity and even the damned Hawks, and they all were amazed by my fucking work! It´s just you the one that don´t recognize me! Why!? Why are so obsessed with making my life a living hell!?”

Bakugo stayed silent and it was your turn to speak “I hate you! I´ve always hated you ´cause you´ve been a bully for all of us! I don´t even know why such a nice guy like Eijiro can be your friend! You don´t deserve him! You don´t even deserve to be a fucking hero! I´m SO happy that Deku turned out to be the number one… ´cause he does deserve it. He is so much better than you…” you were just a few inches from him, and even with Bakugo towering over you, you didn´t back out. The tension was evident and suffocating...  

“You done?” he said with a blank expression.

“I´m sure that Deku´ll hire me. He mentioned he wanted me in his agency not long ago. I´ll be better in there” 

“You serious?” Bakugo contorted his face with something similar to pain and anger. 

“Course I am. I´ve never been surer about something like this in my entire life” you turned again with the intention of getting out of the room, you had said enough... but then something in Bakugo´s head just broke, so he held your wrist with a strong but not painful grip. He couldn´t let you go, not now, not never. He had always been asshole with you, that was true, but he did like and admire your work. You were amazing in what you did, but he had had a terrible day, no... a terrible week since the last attack of a villain and the media critizing him for everything he did or didn´t. He was tired... He was angry... And he didn´t know how to exprese it if it was not through his shitty attitude towards of whoever was in front of him at the moment...

 “What the fuck are you doing!?” you tried to shake your arm free “I´m gonna scream if you don´t let me go”

“Do you really mean it?” Bakugo asked. 

“What?”

“Do you really hate me?” you scoffed.

“After all you´ve done and said to me, that has to be pretty obvious, don´t you think?” Bakugo smiled. A sarcastic smile that had your head spinning from rage “What´s so funny!?”

“You´re so fucking sexy when you´re mad…”

“You gotta be kidding me” your expression turned from rage to complete shock.

“Not at all”

“Are you insane? Did you hit your head or something?”

“I fucking hate you too… you get on my nerves every damn time and I can barely stand you.” Bakugo put his free hand on your waist and you let him, listening close to what he has to say. “But you are a tease, you´ve always been… and so pretty and smart too” his lips were on your neck, sucking a little on the skin of your throat. You moaned because of his words... “Those fucking skirts and shorts you constantly used back in UA… always bending in front of all of us.” you tried to protest but he bit your neck “Are you gonna fucking tell me that you didn´t notice the huge erection on shitty Deku´s pants when he came to the office and you were wearing that slutty red dress of yours?”  

“I didn´t” He raised his head to look you directly in the eyes. He huffed. He knew you weren´t that naive. 

“Even nice guy Kirishima was constantly glaring at your cleavage” He smirked “The walls in our apartment are thin, you know? I´m pretty sure he jerked off thinking about you that night. I heard some noises coming from his room…”

Something in you snapped again but in a different way. You knew that Bakugo was a good looking man with the body of lust demon, but you had ignore it because of his personality “What about you?” you purred, feeling a little brave and honestly, turned on.

“I wanted to fuck you on that same table. Bend you over in front of everyone and make you scream my name, punish you for being such a slut in front of all of them” He kissed you hungrily and you responded moaning higher when his tongue got into your mouth, exploring the inside of your mouth and battling for dominance with your own tongue.

Bakugo softly moved his hands to under your knees to lift you up like if you weight nothing and then proceeded to put you on the table. He stopped for a minute to confirm that you wanted this to happen, and when you nodded with half lifted eyes, he started to slowly take off your blouse.

His complete attention was now redirected towards your breasts still covered in the lacy of the bra, he massaged your boobs and kissed them with such dedication that your pussy throb at the sensation. You knew he was damn good at this and hasn’t even done anything yet.  

Bakugo kissed you again, this time a little bit softer. You didn’t know he were capable of such display of softness towards anyone. He was always rude and honestly, insufferable, so you felt yourself a very lucky person for being the one receiving this treatment.

“Lay on the table” he said softly and you happily obeyed. Where did your hatred run? You didn´t know and you didn´t care, not with Bakugo positioning himself between your legs.  

Bakugo lowered his head towards your sex and put your knees on his shoulders to have a better access. You moaned when his lips kissed your inner thigh and bit the same area seconds after.

“Be sure to not cover your mouth, ok? I wanna hear you moan my name” Bakugo moved your panties to the side and with a flat tongue started to taste your pussy. Just the first lick took to heaven you and back. You didn’t know how he did it, but the sensation was like nothing you had experienced before. He had a golden tongue, a real prodigy of oral sex. He knew where your most sensitive parts were just by the little sighs you let escape. 

He sucked your clit a couple of times after that and continued giving licks to your pussy lips, but your moans got louder when he put his tongue inside you and started tongue fucking you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands flew to his hair and you pulled a little rough, he groaned satisfied. You could feel the little smile that formed on his face.

“Omg…” you sighed “Don´t stop. I´m close. Please, don’t stop” he pulled out his tongue to redirect it to your clit and then inserted a finger and curved it to massage your insides. You closed your thighs when the feeling was too much and almost suffocated him, but he didn’t stop there, fortunately.

“Say my name…” he groaned without taking out the finger inside you.

“Bakugo…” you moaned.

He inserted another finger and moved the both of them a little faster “I said ´my name´, not my last name, pretty girl”

You were close… so close. You knew that if you didn’t answer to him the way he wanted you to, he could stop and ruin your orgasm, so you obliged “Katsuki…” you whispered.

“Didn’t hear you”

“Oh, Katsuki, please, let me cum” you moaned again. He smiled and helped you with his mouth, sucking your clit again, oh, so heavenly…

“Cum on my face, doll. C´mon, make a mess” he said and you did so. Your pussy contracted against his digits and your entire body convulsed on the table. Katsuki let you ride your orgasm using his entire face, and when you were done, he stood up with a proud face and your juices on his mouth, chin, nose and even his right cheek. That made you smile with a dumb post orgasmic face.

“Was I that good?” he joked for the first time in years after seing your cute face… you laughed.

You sat up after a couple of minutes, your eyes immediately focusing on the erection that he wasn’t trying to cover from you.

“Can I help you?” you suggested and he nodded with a lopsided smile.

“Use your words, pretty boy” you teased with a seductive voice.

“I´m not gonna fucking-¨ you cut him off with a kiss.

“I was just joking… I know that big great Dynamight himself would never beg, not even for a blowjob” you laughed and his face softened.

You got up, pushed Katsuki a little to make room for you and proceeded to kneel down… but just when you where ready to put his pants down, a low knock was heard on the door. You looked up to Katsuki with big surprised eyes.

“Yeah?” his voice harsher than normal. You pinched his thigh and he flinched a little.

“Uhm, Mr. Dynamight, sir?” the voice of your assistant was heard. You stood up immediately. “I- uhm, sorry to bother you, but Miss Y/N and I have a meeting in 15 minutes…”

“Fuck…” you groaned while getting up and clothed again. “Yeah!” you shouted “I´ll be with you in a minute”

Katsuki stood there, just looking at you, his face unreadable. You finished fixing your hair the better you could.

When you were presentable, you faced Katsuki. He had something similar to a pout painted on his face.

“We´ll talk about this later… I promise” you said… He avoided your eyes, and then nodded.

“Yeah, whatever”

You took the papers you had brought to the meeting and opened the door to encounter your assistant blushing to her ears.

“Omg, how much did you hear?” you mumbled while closing the door behind you.

“All of it…”