#was like omg who was it. i need to know. i need to know if I've been exposed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norrisainz33 · 15 hours ago

Text

the call pt.3 || platonic grid & gr63

summary: f1 rookie, y/n, enjoys the 3 week break and races in vegas

pairing: rookie!reader x platonic!grid x george russell

fc & warnings: none and suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

part 1 | part 2

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by georgerussell63, pierregasly, alpinef1team, carlossainz55, and 456,873 others

[tagged: georgerussell63]

ynuser: break is breaking!! glad to rest, read and be with friends. now on to vegas ✈️

view all 743 comments

user1: YES GAWD

rubendias: 😍 [liked by ynuser]

user5: oh now this is a crossover i’d kill to see

user2: george being the insta bf who isn’t her bf and taking pics of her omg

georgerussell63: london suits you

ynuser: it does 🥰

user10: y/ngeorge supremacy

user3: begging to know what’s on ur tbr y/n

ynuser; you can find me on goodreads darling

user3: OMGNAUFKWT Y/N

landonorris: you can READ?!

ynuser: yeah - can you?

landonorris: not a chance

lance_stroll: see you soon bestie

ynuser: looking forward to it ✨

user4: i can’t wait to see you back on track in 1 week!!

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user11: might be the best media fit i’ve ever seen

yourbff: trying not to drool you look amazing girl

ynuser: thank you 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: i love everything about this outfit especially that it’s red 😉

ynuser: hehe merely a coincidence

user29: it must be hard being the only one serving in that paddock

landonorris: ok daddy long legs

ynuser: 🕷️

rubendias: looking good y/n

ynuser: why thank you ruben

rubendias: let me know when you’re back in europe. i’d love to take you out one of these days

user12: these boys have nothing on you

ynuser has made a post

liked by alpinef1team, pierregasly, landonorris, maxfewtrell, georgerussell63, rubendias, and 765,230 others

ynuser: back on track in the alpink and ready for some alpoints 🩷

view all 832 comments

user2: unhealthily obsessed with the alpink

pierregasly: we got this y/n 💪🏻

ynuser: let’s get it !

user5: crossing all fingers that this weekend is good to you

georgerussell63: you got a pink pony eh?

ynuser: why yes! a member of the pink pony club

user6: cars back on track thank GOD

alpinef1team: that’s our alpink alprincess

user7: final triple header of the year im gonna be sick

user8: god please let y/n seat announcement be soon

✿

p11 - you could work with that. only had to successfully make one overtake and you’d be in the points. you knew lewis and his silver arrow were going to fly forward and that your real battle was with nico in 9th. you could manage that and you knew it.

gripping the steering wheel tight you waited for the lights to go out and for the race to begin. 3, 2, 1.. you slammed on the gas and took off. time to get to work.

✿

“box, box” your engineer instructed over the radio and you let out a sigh of relief. the tyre degradation in vegas was stronger than expected and you were thankful to pick up a new set of hards. except when you came into the pit lane - you saw only one mechanic waiting for you. there was no one there. surely they should be there? “did i miss the box?” you muttered to yourself passing the alpine garage and making your way through the pit lane. nope. no box missed. your team just wasn’t there.

“are you fcking kidding me?! where was everyone?!” you screamed into the radio as you pulled out of the pit lane and reentered the race without new tyres and a whole lot of time lost.

“there was a miscommunication, y/n. please come back next lap.”

✿

you stepped off the scale as quickly as possible snatching the paper from the fia agent and turning swiftly toward your garage. you desperately needed air and a moment alone.

practically running through the pit lane, you ignored your team who tried to call after you as you hurried toward your drivers room. you flung open the door and locked it behind you before ripping your helmet off of your head and slumping down to the ground.

putting your head in your hands, you cried. the race couldn’t have gone any worse. your mechanics weren’t ready for you to box causing you to lose over 20 seconds of time. your strategy calls after that were abysmal and you landed almost in dead last. this sort of a performance was not how you were going to gain a seat for next season and it certainly wasn’t going to stop the skeptics from trying to tear you down.

a soft knock sounded against your door and you heard an unmistakable voice, “y/n/n let me in.” you tried to wipe away some of the tears as you unlocked the door and scooted out of the way so lance could open the it. he looked down at you on the floor and frowned instantly. “oh y/n/n, come here.” he instructed holding out his hand for you. reluctantly you took it and allowed him to pull you up into his arms.

“what happened?” lance asked gently as you sobbed into his chest. you noticed that he was still very much in his race suit which meant he likely hadn’t done his media duties yet either and instead came to see you.

“everything went wrong,” you explained wiping your eyes again and leaning back to look at him. “my mechanics weren’t ready when i went to box and i lost so much time it ended my chances of being competitive and on top of that i just drove like absolute dog shit so i didn’t help myself either.”

lance wiped away a tear from your cheek, “i’m sorry y/n/n. that sucks but this isn’t the end. you have two more races - it isn’t over till it’s over.”

“i consciously know you’re right but i just… i don’t know lance - this pressure is more than i could have ever imagined.”

“i can’t pretend to understand how you’re feeling but i can tell you that no one is perfect after 4 races. you are doing the best that you can.” lance assured wiping more tears from your face as your crying slowed.

there was a forceful knock at the door, “y/n you need to get to the media pen. now.” your pr manager said sternly through the door pulling you back to reality.

lance sighed before letting you go, “alright come on. let’s get out there before people start to spread rumors about what we’re doing in here.” he laughed fixing his race suit, “and don’t get me wrong i love you but you unfortunately are not my type and also i am not a 6 foot 3 british man so im not yours either.”

you let out a laugh and lance was pleased to hear it. “yeah yeah let’s go.”

before walking out of your driver room, lance turned and said “hey y/n/n… don’t let them see you rattled - they don’t deserve it.”

✿

skysportsf1 has made a post

liked by f1, user1, user7, user5, user2, user3, user4 and 87,234 others

skysportsf1: a tough weekend for our brazil podium finisher, y/n y/l/n. y/n said the following in her post race interview with us: “today is a forgettable one for me and the team. we didn’t have the pace and we made some critical mistakes. we’ll learn from them and come back stronger in qatar. both pierre and i will. but for now, congrats to george on a brilliant win.”

✿

“y/n/n.” george’s big blue eyes were staring into your soul and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered to your lips quickly before moving back up. “can i tell you something?” he asked over the pounding of the music throughout the club.

you had begrudgingly agreed to go out and celebrate with george and the rest of the mercedes crew even though you had no interest in partying after the race you had. but, at the end of the day, george was one of your best friends and he deserved to be celebrated. you both were a couple drinks deep at this point and george was clearly getting loose. “of course you can georgie!”

he tucked a piece of hair behind you ear, “i um…” he paused stealing another glance at your lips. “i’ve been wanting to tell you something for like a really long time and seeing you leave your drivers room with lance made me realize i should tell you sooner rather than later.”

“what are you talking about? nothing happened with lance and i earlier! he came to check on me after the race.” you put your empty glass down on the bar next to you as you tried to comprehend what he was saying.

“regardless of what was happening it made me realize that i couldn’t keep pretending like i don’t want to be more than just friends with you.”

it felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, there was no way you heard what you thought you just heard. “george william russell - you can’t be serious.”

“i am!” george insisted incredulously, “i have fancied you since what feels like the dawn of time. since i met you on the karting track for the first time. remember? when you barreled directly into the back of my kart? you hit me because i broke too soon and then you being you - you yelled at me after the race and even while yelling you were the most beautiful girl i’d ever laid eyes on.”

“george, i don’t know what to say.”

george ran both hands through his hair. “you don’t have to say anything y/n. i just wanted you to know how i felt because i —“

before he could say anything more you stood up on your tiptoes and kissed him right there in the middle of the club.

✿

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 32,123 others

f1gossip: BREAKING NEWS 🚨 george russell and y/n y/l/n were spotted out at a club following todays race. reports say the pair shared a rather passionate kiss on the dance floor which was then followed by george dragging y/n through the dance floor and out of the bar. next report we got is the pair arriving together back at the hotel. seems like things are getting spicy between y/n and george!

view all 674 comments

user1: SCREAMING

user23: best thing i’ve seen all day

user44: ohhhhh they’d make the hottest couple

user2: allat and no video evidence??

user5: huge day for annoying people! (me)

user8: surprised it took these 2 so long. it’s been 10 years

user12: YES GAWD THANK YOU GAWD

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated! been in another writing slump but hopefully will get some wips out soon

tag list from part 1 & 2: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @tall-tanned-tattoo @chelseyyouraverageluigi @tellybearryyyy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

272 notes · View notes

muletia · 1 day ago

Note

These obsessed Orian and Optimus fics have got me thinking about what if Megatron was just as obsessed with reader as Optimus, and they have a tug of war sort of battle between them where one side snatches you for their leader back and forth.

It has gotten to the point where you couldn’t even sleep in your own home anymore without some decepticon destroying your ceiling in order to take you away to their leader like a toy.

Megatron would definitely see reader as a tool to further his goals as well as leverage to use against Optimus. He laughed out loud when he heard about his nemesis having feelings for a puny human. If Megatron could punch his past self for daring to think so lowly of you, he would do it without a second thought. He is so much worse than Optimus because he doesn’t allow you to leave him sight even when you plead that you have to go to work.

Work? What work? You don’t need to work anymore now that you’re his queen. Don’t be ridiculous.

Oh, but Optimus… He. Is. Pissed. He would never rest until you were back in his servo safe and sound. He would quite literally crash out as soon as he found out Megatron took his beloved.

I love having two obsessed bots fight over me <3

YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED OMG, these ideas are so tasty

okay, this scenario could unfold in several ways, but i see a huge comedic potential here. at first, of course, there's nothing funny about it at all, because being kidnapped by the leader of the decepticons himself to be used as a bargaining chip is far from humorous. but! let's say that despite the hopelessness of your situation, you dare to resist, to fight back, because you know that megatron doesn’t have the guts to hurt you. he knows you’re too important to optimus, and killing you gains him nothing. the problem is that by being defiant, you end up sealing your fate because megatron starts to take an interest in you. at first, he’s just fascinated by you, maybe even slightly amused. but this unimportant infatuation quickly turns into something more, something that terrifies megatron himself. it’s stronger than him, more powerful, more aggressive, and more relentless. suddenly, you’re no longer a bargaining chip—you’ve been promoted to a much worse position. you’ve become his partner, his second-in-command, his queen. someone who suddenly holds immense significance for him. and that is absolutely terrifying.

megatron doesn’t get to enjoy your company for long, though, because you’re quickly rescued by the autobots. optimus is, of course, ecstatic that the mission was a success and that you’re finally safe, but for a few days, you’ll have to kiss your social life and work goodbye, as optimus will insist on you being under constant supervision at the base. maybe during this time, the two of you grow closer despite the circumstances of your house arrest? and despite the paranoia wreaking havoc in optimus's processor, part of him is content with having you constantly in sight and that your relationship has warmed even more.

the same can’t be said for megatron, who is, to put it mildly, tweaking out. is he just supposed to let you go after he’s had a taste of you? after he’s grown to enjoy your company and having you always within reach? ha! he’s not letting go that easily. a few days after you return to your normal life, a random vehicon gets the order to bring you back to nemesis, straight into his master’s hands. megatron is satisfied—you, not so much—and optimus is losing his mind. this time, however, the rescue mission doesn’t go as smoothly. the leader of the decepticons personally keeps an eye on you, and you’re constantly watched by soundwave. but let’s say the autobots manage to rescue you again... until you’re kidnapped once more.

and here’s where the comedic aspect kicks in. at some point, your fear for your life shifts to irritation. by the tenth time you land in the servos of the great leader of the decepticons, whose most sinister plans apparently involve just keeping you here against your will and occasionally you patting him on the helm, it’s honestly just exhausting. the most troublesome part is the lack of autonomy—otherwise, you’re pretty much chilling as long as you don’t tease or provoke him. although, even that gets boring after a while. you just want to live a normal life... you never asked to be sandwiched between the boobs of two leaders who do nothing but bark at each other...

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #megatron x reader #obsessed!megatron #tfp

162 notes · View notes

celaenaeiln · 2 days ago

Note

I always assumed that from the comics I've read dick seems to have a somewhat complicated relationship with his own gender/sexuality/sex status, etc.

Anon!! You can't just drop this on me and leavee!! I need to hear more!! LEMME HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS!!!

Ok so this is gonna be like three different things so I'll make subcategories.

Gender

Of the things listed. I think gender is the one thing Dick is rather set on/secure about. He has some feminine or softer traits which typically would not be associated with a male character such as empathy and caring to an overemotional aspect -

Joker: Last Laugh Issue #3

Nightwing (1996) Issue #86

Nightwing (1996) Issue #139

Being overly kind to an unappreciative and toxic girlfriend is one thing, but as a brother hugging and kissing a brother? It's a little softer than how people usually write male heroes.

He's male and I don't think he's considered switching to the female side because he's comfortable with his masculinity.

Does he do things like this -

Nightwing (2016) Issue #38

sometimes? Yeah. He takes the female role in his relationships with others such as Bruce and Barbara but he still very much sees himself as masculine. Like I said in another post, Kori asks him to be a male consort to her Queen because she was forced to marry a royal Tamaranian Prince. While male consorts are not unusual in history, they typically embody the female in a stereotypical relationship. (On a separate note, did you know Chinese emperors took on male consorts? It is circumvented when speaking about in the present and laters days but it's officially written down in the books).

But overall, Dick is very much a masculine male with feminine qualities.

Sexuality

Ok so the thing about Dick and sexuality is that Dick Grayson is a very, VERY old character. He's been there since the beginning of DC to the point that he was the third DC character created EVER. Clark, then Bruce, then Dick, AND THEN Wonder Woman.

So with a character this old and with a topic as controversial as sexuality, DC is not going to ever explicitly write Dick as gay or bi or whatever. Why? Because Dick is an icon.

When someone says "Batman and Robin" - EVERYONE knows who Batman and Robin is. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. They've existed forever and are the kingpins of DC alongside Superman and Wonder Woman. Whether that person is in the fandom or not, they know who Batman and Robin are. Within the fandom, people know there's more than one Robin (several) but talking to someone outside the fandom, someone who enjoys DC casually, only thinks there is one Robin. And you could tell them that there's this many robins, some have been girls, there's this many timelines and etc (which is actually a really embarrassing convo if someone isn't in the fandom OMG and how I wish I could take that back and erase it from BOTH OF OUR MEMORIES) - but they're not gonna care. Because for them, there's only one Robin and that's Dick Grayson.

So with something like that, DC cannot have Dick Grayson be anything but straight because it would cause too big of an uproar. So he can't be. Explicitly. People have written him as having an ambiguous sexuality though. I actually wrote this specific POST a long time because someone wanted to know more.

Instead what you'll have is a BUNCH of BROMANCES. His Nightwing authors have wanted more male/male sexual attractions with him and other characters and some of them have admitted that openly even if they were not allowed to write. So if you're reading a comic that has him and something seems SUS, well it might just be.

So like with all things, I cannot say anything for certain unless there is evidence of him engaging in a romantic relationship with someone who isn't a woman, but given the homoerotic tension that exists between him and other characters such as ROY -

Outsiders (2003) Issue #11

Teen Titans: Silver Age TPB 2 (Part 4) Page 16

Nightwing (1996) Issue #114

WHICH IS ODDLY SIMILAR TO THIS -

Nightwing (1996) Issue #138

I'd say he's bi-curious at the least.

Sex Symbol Status

-this is my previous post which goes a little into the sex symbol thing

Anon, holy crap I have an ESSAY for you. It's in my drafts because it's wayyyyyyyyy too long and I'll definitely exceed the image limit but holy crap.

Here's what I will say about it though. The world REVERES Dick for his looks and body. The amount of attention he gets for his beauty is ridiculous. Even Green Arrow's half-sister - WHO'S MUCH YOUNGER THAN DICK AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF DICK MET - dreams about him romantically.

Green Arrow (2016) Annual_1

Because of course. Villains are going out of their way to compliment him on his looks in the middle of a fight - Bane, Bludhaven villains, civilians (MALE) coworkers - it's literally insane.

So Dick is clearly the hottest and most gorgeous thing to ever exist in the entirety of DC. There's also a panel from a comic where Dick becomes Talon AND SOMEONE STILL CALLS HIM THE PRETTY BOY TALON LIKE WTF??? THAT PRETTY BOY TALON CAN RIP OFF YOUR HEAD IN A HEARTBEAT! He's a talon, too! Clearly death does not hinder his looks in any way.

But Dick himself is VERY uncomfortable any sort of bodily attraction. It's not just the comments that gets him but he, who everyone claims has the body of a god, doesn't feel good about his own body.

The New Titans (1988) Issue #71

He's really conservative. And in another comic when Tim comments on how the the Nightwing suit is really a babe attractor, Dick is uncomfortable going 'I didn't make it for them'.

Like even looking at this comic pic where Dick is in disguise and he and Kori are just walking down the street, they both still attract the entire street's attention. It must be so uncomfortable.

Here's my thoughts on the sex symbol status. Yes, Dick is a sex symbol. That's just fact. But here's where the issue is. People can be sex symbols without it affecting their personality because that status, is something given to them or bestowed upon them by another person.

I'm leaning a little into my post in the drafts but Johnny Depp, Marylyn Monroe, David Bowie, Tom Cruise, Cleopatra - they're all so vastly different on their opinions of sexual liberty and yet all of them as considered sex symbols.

So what does this mean for Dick? Nothing, really. It just means the world takes one look at him and wants him but he is under no obligation to follow through nor does he. He's not a slut for sleeping with the people he likes and no one thinks of him that way either. He was slut-shamed after his rape by Pantha who always has some harsher opinions because that is her personality. She literally says the meanest things about everyone because she's a rough and tough character and she finds humor in being mean because she is who she is.

For Dick himself, it means nothing. He doesn't view himself as attractive which ironically is also what celebrities who were interviewed about the sex symbol status said as well, such as Johny Depp.

The problem with being beautiful though is that people brush you off. Certain girlfriends of his do it. They see him as just a pretty boy and writers of certain comics *cough* Batgirl comics writers and Tom Taylor *cough* throw his skills and talent down the garbage disposal so he can act as a dumb pretty boy toy for his girlfriend. His personality is degraded to a bland white paste and his intelligence and power and pain are thrown out the window.

(This POST gives some examples of when writers do this for Dickbabs)

Like this is a serious problem! I read this article some time ago -

Here are the main highlights:

There isn't a problem with Dick being ascribed a sex symbol status and to his great benefit most people don't treat him like this but some do! LIKE HIS GIRLFRIEND.

In summary, and I'm gonna borrow a lyric here to quote -

"It's hell on earth to be heavenly Them's the breaks, they don't come gently"

I think the problem is, instead of focusing on how beautiful Dick looks, I really feel like DC and the fandom should analyze how uncomfortable Dick gets, how certain comics force him into relationships when others clearly show he wouldn't be interested in a parallel situation, and mostly how Dick Grayson is robbed of his personality, identity, and beliefs all because of how people believe he should act due to his beauty.

I'm honestly tired of the equation that Dick's status as a sex symbol somehow reduces him to a slut. He is not. Instead we should focus on how his beauty is weaponized against him. He was born with those looks and complaining about them is useless. That's his mother and father-given appearance. It's his genetic inheritance. It's as much a part of his as his grace or his unyielding kindness.

The real issue isn't DC’s acknowledgment of his beauty—it's the utter failure to dig deeper. Instead we should explore how Dick deals with it. How does he carry the weight of being constantly objectified? What does it do to his relationships? How is he coerced to do something in a relationship because it is expected of simply due to the fact that he's beautiful? We should explore how people (even the batfam sometimes) only see his smile or good-natured humor while his complexities - his pain, his resilience, his brilliance - are shucked aside? He's constantly diminished by the fandom and canon because of his cheery personality and good looks just to fit a particular character's narrow view of him.

Call him pretty! Dick legit doesn't care if villains call him pretty or someone calls him that because what they're really focused on when they call him that, are his skills. He doesn't mind being called pretty, beautiful, gorgeous - as long as he's valued for his talents and efforts and skills.

(Here's the pretty boy post for my lovelies. Part 2 in the making)

The issue, once again, isn't his sex symbol status or his looks. It's literally everything else. Dick Grayson is not a reflection of what others project; he is a someone who stands apart, vibrant, and irreducibly whole. Which too often gets lost underneath his looks.

#dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #batgirl #oracle #roy harper #arsenal #red arrow #emiko queen #koriand'r #starfire #roydick #dickkori #tim drake #red robin #cl anon asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

166 notes · View notes

viperify · 2 days ago

Note

girl omg i need academic rivals with mattheo !!! the rest is up to you, ily 🫶

Smutmas 2024 | 𝗱𝗲𝗰 𝟬𝟭: ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Just shut up.

Short summary: Turns out even the best have to resort to cheating once a while. You wouldn’t let him get away with it though. As you then pay him a visit at his dorm, confronting him, he turns to his usual methods of getting himself out of trouble…

Warnings: oral f!receiving, rough sex (somewhat), unprotected p in v

A/N: This is my first time writing Mattheo. Be nice. 😾

wordcount: 2,2k

You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed from the back of the classroom.

The self-claimed Potions master, Mattheo Riddle, cheating on an exam while Snape wasn’t looking in his direction. Shaking your head slightly, you averted your attention back to your exam paper. You couldn‘t let him get away with that. Especially as Potions was one of the few subjects he could easily outscore you in.

Christmas should be the festival of love and peace, you knew that. Though him getting a better grade than you solely because he cheated – it wasn’t right.

Festive decorations adorned the castle at this time of the year. It was soothingly calm around you, only distant whispers cutting through the otherwise quiet surroundings. Clearly, you thought. Not many students were around at that point anymore, most of them having left the castle to return home during the break. You sighed, secretly wishing to go home, see your parents, who currently were on a trip to visit a distant family member.

Exhaling softly, you made your way back to the Slytherin dormitories after having eaten dinner in the Great Hall. You descended the stairs and just when you were about to enter your dorm, a familiar figure disappeared behind the corner leading to the boys’ dormitories. The brunette curls undoubtedly revealed it was Mattheo, who had apparently also stayed back at Hogwarts. Perfect, you thought.

You reckoned it was a great idea to pay him a visit, to confront him, threaten him. You assumed you’d get something out of it, make him admit his wrongdoings. Though it didn’t exactly go according to plan.

That’s how you now find yourself trapped between the cold stone wall of his dorm and himself, easily towering over your smaller form.

“You might want to repeat that?” He sneers, acting like he didn‘t hear you the first time. You knew his games, the way he was trying to intimidate you, silence you. You wouldn’t give in that easily though.

“You cheated on the Potions exam, Riddle. I saw it. And if you don’t admit it yourself, I will have to report you.” You state best as you can, arms crossing over your chest, standing your point.

His eyes darken, realization setting in. He scoffs, inching closer to you. “You didn’t see shit.“

You almost laugh. “Well, I did. And you will have to live with the consequences.”

He just looks at you for a few seconds, and you can almost see the thoughts forming behind his brown eyes. A sly smirk forms on his lips. Mattheo then leans in impossibly, uncomfortably close to your face, but you are denied any complaints as he speaks up.

“You know, darling“ he pauses, his breath hot against your cheek as his fingertips ever so softly trail up the exposed skin of your thigh, halting when he reaches the hem of your skirt. “I have also happened to catch a sight of you looking for the answers just about… here.” With that, he firmly squeezes the flesh of your thighs, drawing a breathy gasp from you, his touch electrifying on your hot skin.

“That’s not- not true.“ you stammer and he grins in response. Fuck.

Mattheo’s gaze sinks to where he had just touched you, exhaling shakily as his eyes travel back up your form, and after staring an awful long time at your covered breasts, his brown eyes finally meet yours. “I too could tell on you. How you write the answers under that slutty skirt of yours.”

You huffed, shaking your head slightly, finally turning away to escape his intense stare.

“Hm? Cat got your tongue?” He smirks sheepishly, delivering another squeeze to your thigh.

“Riddle I sw-“ your words were cut off by his lips hungrily crashing onto yours, his hand sneaking up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing down around it. “Shut up.” Mattheo groans as you two break apart, catching your breath. “Let’s forget about it. Just shut up.”

“That’s how you solve your problems, is that it, hm?” You sneer, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “I am not one of your toys. It doesn’t work li-“

He cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Another kiss, this time more wanting, hungrier, and to your dismay, you couldn’t help yourself but moan into the kiss.

Then, when you were able to overcome your demons and finally kiss him back, he pulls away, his signature smirk decorating his face. “It doesn’t work like that, huh?” He taunts, winking at you, taking a step back.

Idiot, you think. Your eyebrows furrow, pushing yourself of the wall. “Just shut up.” You murmur, closing the gap between you two another time.

Then, his hands sneak around your waist as he groans into your mouth, pulling you with him as he sinks down onto his bed. Mattheo has you sat on his lap while you two practically devour each other, your hand tugging on his brunette curls, that you, if you now think about it, learned to love over the years. When you then break apart and slowly open your eyes, you find a changed man in front of you. He doesn’t any longer look at you in spite, if anything – with pure lust. A sight you preferred a thousand times over the usual way he would glance at you during classes.

As he is adjusting his posture, slightly thrusting upwards in the process, you feel it. You feel just how hard he is underneath you. You bite your lip and grin, eagerly grinding your hips on him, causing friction just where you need it most. One of his hands guides you, the other trailing up your thigh. He barely touches your skin, yet you feel the burn of his touch. It’s hot, it’s electrifying. It’s what you have secretly desired for a long time. Mattheo steadily makes his way under your skirt, giving the flesh of your ass a firm squeeze. You moan, and as you tilt your head back, he leans in to trail soft, open mouthed kisses all the way from your jaw down to your shoulder and back up. He sucks, bites, leaves marks. “Fuck- you are mine now. Want it or not, I don’t give a damn.”

The only reply you manage is a quick nod, though clearly unsatisfied with your non-verbal answer, his teeth dig into your tender skin, not enough to draw blood, yet enough to leave a bruise. “M’ yours! All yours!” You hiss, not really thinking about what you are saying, too focused on the building ache in your lower stomach, too focused on how his lips feel on your body. “That’s a good girl.” The brunette praises you, now slightly thrusting against you. At this point, you are a mess. You feel your arousal sticking to your panties, surely already having left a wet patch on his trousers as well.

“Merlin Mattheo, please, I need you.” You whine, close to begging him with all you have left just to feel him inside of you. Pathetic, you think to yourself. Mere minutes ago you were still up against his throat. Atleast you now have an answer. The rumours are true after all, he truly knows how to wrap girls around his finger. You just didn’t think he could do it with you. Yet here you are, yearning to have all of him.

He doesn’t leave you much time to rethink your choice, making quick work of your clothes before he flips you around, almost too easily, too skilled, you think, but you don’t dare complain. Not now, when you are too far gone anyway, mind clouded by pure lust.

Mattheo places himself between your legs, and you close your eyes in anticipation. You feel just how hot his breath is against where you need him most, where every nerve of yours is aching to be touched, to be caressed. And so he does, softly at first. He leans down to place a kiss on your clit, drawing a moan from your parted lips.

With your eyes still closed, every single touch, every breath of his feels a hundred times more intense, and you almost shriek when his tongue first slides through your folds, and he groans, the vibrations spreading through your core. “Who knew you would taste so fucking heavenly, hm? You are soaked, and it’s all for me, darling.”

You open your mouth to argue with him, tell him to just shut up and get to work. Mattheo though is just a tad bit quicker and finally wraps his lips around your puffy clit, expertly licking and sucking on it, adding two fingers which immediately find the spongey spot inside of your cunt that has you see stars.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He demands, and you do as he says, even though it’s hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head with how good he’s making you feel.

You threaten to get lost in the depth of his brown eyes that draw you right in as he stares back up at you. And then, you clench around him, exhaling through your mouth as your head falls back, your surroundings suddenly becoming a blur when you feel yourself at the brink of release. One last thrust of his fingers, you think, and your body would shatter, shatter around the very man you despised. But then- suddenly, it’s gone and you feel empty, your orgasm fading away. Your eyes blink open to spot a half amused Mattheo in front of you, licking his fingers clean.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, catching your breath. “I was so close!”

He laughs. “Darling, the only way you are going to come is around my cock.”

You scoff in return. That fucking idiot. “I hate you, Riddle.”

“You hate me, huh?” He asks with a smirk, voice low and seductive as he pushes himself up, inching closer to your face, now a mere centimetre away from your lips. He looks down at them and back up again to meet your wanting eyes. “Yet, I get to fuck you.”

“Go on then. Do it.” You encourage him, because after all, you have had enough. You need this release, whatever it may cost. He smirks, well aware of how much it infuriates you.

Then finally, you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. And he moves slowly, too slow for your liking. First, he looks down to where your bodies are about to connect, and then, with a bit more doubt present in his voice, he asks you one last question. “You ready? I am not going to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.” You reply huskily, and at last, Mattheo pushes into you. You gasp at his size as you stretch around him, almost painfully so, and he slows down for a moment. “Matt-“

He shushes you. “I know. Just breathe.” You nod. One slow and deliberate thrust after the other, letting you adjust to him. When he feels you relax around him, he finally picks up the pace, your legs wrapped around him as he thrusts into you. “Oh Merlin- please-“ you moan, and he glances down as he hovers over you. “What do you want, darling? Tell me.”

You want him, all of him. Deeper, harder, anything. “Please, I need you. Need more of you.”

Mattheo nods in response, breathing heavily above you, his curls sticking to his forehead as gives you what you want. He slams into you from a different angle now, allowing him to go deeper, brushing against your cervix with almost every thrust.

“Fuck Mattheo, please- I am going to-“ you almost scream, the sensations overwhelming as his fingers find your needy clit, rubbing figure eights on it. “Me too, darling. Let go for me. Show me how pretty you look when you come for me.”

His words send you spiraling over the edge, pure pleasure reverberating ting through your body, and for a moment you feel like you are levitating, levitating from the way your climax had struck you, from the way he was making you feel. You clench frantically around him, and he groans loudly. His thrusts have now become ragged and uneven, cock twitching before he spills himself inside of you at last, thick, hot ropes of cum decorating your inner walls. Mattheo then collapses on top of you, entirely spent as your sweaty bodies embrace each other.

You both catch your breaths as you calm down from your highs, and after a minute he rolls off of you. You sit up, expecting him to tell you to leave either way. Though, he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest. “Where do you think you are going?”

“I thought you’d want me to go. You know this was only for-“ he sighs and closes his palm over your mouth. “Just shut up.” He says.

You decide to stay with him in the end, lying on his chest. Just as your eyes were threatening to close, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep, he speaks up once more.

“Christmas is the festival of love and peace, I assume you are aware of that?”

You nod and he lets the thought linger in the air for a while.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” You smile.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fanfic #smutmas #smutmas 2024 #dividers by saradika

162 notes · View notes

ylangelegy · 1 day ago

Note

omg "what? me? jealous? never." with junhui please! 🫶🫶

ⵌ actor!jun x actress!reader. ⵌ word count: 988. ⵌ notes: co-stars, secret relationship, pet names ('pretty girl'), suggestive joke, all my favorite tropes in a drabble. i miss this man sooo bad.

Jun loves award shows.

He loves having an excuse to dress up, loves getting to interact with other groups a little more openly, loves the special stages they get to put on. And if his gorgeous girlfriend happens to be a special emcee, well— that only makes it a much better night.

He's not allowed to be too excited, of course. He's always careful not to blow his cover. At most, the boys just seem to assume that you're his favorite co-star.

If only they knew that Jun's had the privilege of your heart for the past couple of years.

There's a bit of a thrill in sneaking around, in having to pull out his acting chops. Tonight, Jun lies about having to go to the bathroom, fields Minghao's invites for accompaniment, and navigates through all the other tables. Your text had been the only prompting he needed. It's like a waltz; his eyes on your back, the distance he keeps.

You side step in to a corner, behind a curtain, and he follows. The entire venue of idols, of actors, of Korea's biggest stars are none the wiser.

Jun's hands find immediate purchase at your waist. "Hey, pretty girl," he greets smoothly, that bright smile of his already lighting up his face.

You'll probably only have three minutes, but three minutes is all that Jun needs. He doesn't waste time. "Saw you on the red carpet earlier. You were stunning," he hums, his face going to nuzzle the underside of your ear.

"I think you're a little bit biased," you shoot back, unable to resist a jab. Your facade of annoyance is betrayed by the smile that's threatening to fill your own face. "But I think I can let it pass for tonight, 'specially since that suits of yours looks so good on you."

"I'd look even better out of it," he says unrepentantly. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close when you try to pull back and away.

You let out a groan. Jun laughs softly.

Jun's lips brush against your jaw, then down the line of your throat. His nose skims your skin as he takes a breath. "You smell nice," he mumbles.

Cinnamon, sugar, vanilla. The same scent as his own cologne.

"You got me this at your Japan stop," you answer, your hands resting at his hips. It's not much, but it'll have to do for now.

"I should get you a perfume every time we have a stop abroad," he says.

"Yah, don't do that. You have expensive tastes. And you already get me too many things whenever you're on tour."

"What's the point of being an established artist at my big age if I can't spoil my pretty girl a little?" he grumbles petulantly. He tilts his head to press a kiss over your pulse. "Besides," he adds after a moment, "I like that you smell like me."

Smelling like Jun was just another one of those things. His subtle reminders in the form of innocuous couple items that only the two of you knew about. Cologne and perfume with similar notes, matching silk pajamas, rubber shoes from the same line. A quiet litany of mine, mine, mine in your every day lives.

You give a bright, warm laugh as you mumble into his hair, "I'll wear it more often, then."

You are so bad for him. A walking, talking dopamine rush. Everything about you makes Jun feel a little lightheaded, a little dizzy. Like he's had one too many to drink.

But you're also the one who sobers him up, the one who always says, "We should probably get going."

"Do we have to?" he whines. His arms around you tighten. He knows the answer to his question— yes, yes, you have to go. But he can't help wishing otherwise. "Five more minutes?"

Your nth sigh of the night. Even then— "Five more minutes," you concede.

His hands flatten out against your back, holding you more snugly against him. He could stay like this forever. Just your warmth against him, the scent of you in his nose, the sound of your steady breaths in his ear.

But you say five more minutes. And so he counts down from ten in his head. Ten, nine, eight…

Jun pulls back after the countdown and steals a long, deep kiss from your lips.

This was what it felt like to be alive. The way his blood pumped faster, his heart thumped harder. The way that your very presence made everything else seem dull in comparison.

The feeling only intensifies when you move closer. When you arch against him in that way you know he loves. When your fingers run through his hair.

Jun is all but breathless. He pulls away after long enough, leaning his forehead against yours. "I'm a terrible influence on you," he pants against your lips.

Your hand slides down to his face, your thumb ghosting over his mouth. "You got some on you," you grumble, and it takes him a moment to realize that you're fretting over lip gloss.

"Leave it," he says. "I like smelling like perfume and looking like I got kissed."

You shoot him a glare. He gives you cheeky grin.

When the two of you part, Jun is relegated to watch you from his table. You're radiant up on stage, perfectly composed and charming. You have stellar manufactured chemistry with your more recent co-star, and some of the boys decide to tease Jun about it.

"Looks like you've gotten replaced, Junpi," Jeonghan sing-songs.

Soonyoung nudges Jun in the side. "Jealous that you've lost your favorite co-star to Kim Soohyun?"

Jun barely stops himself from bursting into laughter. Replaced? Co-star? His members don't know the half of it. Jun absentmindedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip, where traces of you still linger.

"What? Me, jealous?" He breaks out into an innocent smile. "Never."

୨ৎ * part of my ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

#jun x reader #junhui x reader #jun imagines #junhui imagines #jun fluff #junhui fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt #୨ৎ game set play .ᐟ #( falls to my knees. BRING HIM BACK TO MEEE )

146 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 3 days ago

Text

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.

Oh Ally... ngl, I'm a little scared 👀 Ok let's go!!

His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin. The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.

wtf, is your goal to make me horny before breaking my heart? Because if that's the case, congrats 😂😭

“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.”

Fuck

“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions. “Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either. You can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

Aaaaaaah I already wanna cry 😭Ally 😭

“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her. “Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic.

Oh damn this is so beautiful

Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with. Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting. “Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant. Nice to meet me?

Oh fuuuuuck.

Joel stares him down as he walks away and you could have easily mistaken it for jealousy. The irony of it, as your harmless flirting was nothing compared to his potential relationship with your boss. You needed answers, whether or not Joel wanted to disavow you.

Omg I love this so much!!! I just love it, when joel is emotionally unavailable, breaks our heart, but shows evidence of jealousy and possessiveness, aaaaaaah 😍😍😍

The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier. “What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape. “Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off. He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again. “She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel. You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you.

DEAD.

I had to quote all of it because damn that was so fucking good!!

He presses up against you, pinning you against a stack of boxes. It is reserved but still so sensual. He pushes your hair behind your ear and combs his fingers through it, smelling your sweet scent mixing with his woodsy, pine cologne.

Fuck. I would fall for him 😭😂

And then, the song? Oh my heart... This is so good, Ally ❤️❤️

And I wonder what you got for us in the next part 😍😍

The Wolf You Feed (Part 4)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Part 4 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for complete warnings.

A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.

You get ready for bed and eye the flannel that you stole from Joel’s house. You hold it close to your chest and breathe in his scent that still lingers.

You strip down to nothing but your lacy panties and don his shirt. You precariously drape it off your shoulders and look at yourself in the mirror.

Joel would love this.

Your hair is still damp and messy from your shower but you look clean and bright. The I’m positively smitten glow you have makes you radiate.

You position yourself on your bed perched on your knees with your legs spread open. You adjust the shirt just right to hang over your shoulders and around your breasts, just barely covering your nipples.

With your phone positioned slightly above you, you snap a pic while making your most innocent face. Your full body is in the frame and perfectly teasing with your frumpy shirt placement. Your sluttiest black, lacey panties also help to conceal just enough to be a tease.

You: Getting ready for bed

You attach the photo and send it. You sit back on your heels and eagerly watch for the read receipt. He is quick to reply.

Joel: Goddamn

Joel: Beautiful

A brief pause.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

Joel: Got any more?

Your heart skips a beat. You absolutely want to give him more.

You: Maybe

You sit back and let the flannel shirt drape open, fully exposing your breasts and your hardened nipples. You sit more upright, and grab a fistfull of your hair and gaze up to the camera, looking a little deranged and lustful. You eye your photo before sending it, impressed with yourself.

Sent.

Joel: Fuck

Joel: Look at them tits

You smirk as you imagine him losing his mind and hope he is as horny as you are. You feel your heat begin to surge inside. You feel so needy for his cock.

You: Your turn

You weren’t too sure what to expect or if he would even play along but after a minute you got your answer.

The photo he sends is so poorly taken, it is endearing when you get over the disappointment of not having his dick perfectly photographed. It’s dark and grainy. You can just make out the navy blue sheets under his skin to deduce he is in his bed too. His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin. The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.

Nevertheless, it is undeniably Joel. The flutter you get inside that you only ever felt from him.

You: Joel, how naughty

One more photo, he earned it.

This time, you let the shirt fall off completely to your hips. You slide one of your hands into your panties and hook your thumb over the edge to pull them down. You make a “V” with your fingers and press yourself apart so your swollen clit is in full view. With your free hand you snap one last picture and send it. This one is more focused and does not show your face, but it certainly was an eyeful. You doubt he would even be looking elsewhere.

Your message is instantly read. After a moment Joels typing comes and goes until it stops completely. You wonder if he is touching himself. Hope he is touching himself. You impatiently rub your fingers against yourself while you wait, aching at the thought of him.

Your screen changes to an incoming call from Joel Miller.

Of course you answer it as calmly as you can.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You greet him with a flirty tone.

“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.” He speaks low and sounds relaxed and groggy. You wonder if you woke him up when you sent the first pic and kind of hope you did.

“Just getting ready for bed and thinking about you.”

You hear him make a breathy acknowledgement and you know he is stroking himself just by how he is breathing. You feel bolder and more daring talking to him on the phone. You can be a tease and he can’t do anything about it.

You put it on speaker so you can have both your hands free.

“Wishing it was your fingers on me.” You lay back on your bed and slide your fingers over your clit until a moan escapes you. “Or your cock.”

“Mmm. Keep going,” he growls low.

Even on the phone he has to be bossy. His voice cuts straight through you. Always so commanding but spoken with a warmness that makes you melt.

You slide a finger inside your wet and needy cunt and use your other hand to tease your clit.

“Joel…” you rasp his name low as you moan. “How hard are you right now?”

You hear him chuff quietly.

“Bout ready to come, sweetheart.”

His shallow breathing and occasional grunt cheers you on. Your hands are so inadequate compared to his. You need to be filled by him. Want his rough hands putting friction in all the right spots.

You fumble with your nightstand drawer for your dildo. His ears pick up on the creak of the wooden drawer opening and he stops you in your tracks.

“No toys.” His stern voice commands. “I want you to get off with your fingers.”

You can hear his grin on the other end.

“... and beg for my cock.”

That wouldn’t be hard to do. You already are screaming inside for him to put you out of your misery. Your performative moans are now all too real.

“Joel… fuck.” You whine but bring your hand back to your opening and press inside with two of your fingers while you massage your clit.

His authoritative demands empower you. Hearing him breathing, groaning and barking orders at you makes it a lot easier to get yourself to the edge. Despite how tiny your hands are in comparison, your mind fills in all the gaps as his voice penetrates your ears.

“I want you to fill me,” you whine.

“Mmm. Gonna make a mess of me.” He sounds haggard. He has been holding back his own release for sure. The thought of making Joel Miller come undone over the phone is intoxicating.

You moan and your breath hitches as you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Pleading to release.

“Joel…” You whimper. Begging.

“Come for me, baby.” His commanding tone returns, beckoning you to do as he asks.

“Let me hear you. Come for daddy.”

You gasp at his words. That was never something you thought you were into. It went straight to your pussy. Your walls flutter around your fingers as you replay his words in your head. You do come for him, hard, and let him hear you climaxing over the thoughts of him inside you.

“Mmmm.” He groans low as you ride your climax high and let your desperate sounds tip him over the edge.

His labored breathing and raspy moans pick up and you know he is coming.

He goes silent and You can just imagine him laying in his bed with his cock in his hand, pumping himself until he comes over his knuckles. Spent and sticky.

A moment passes as you both breathe heavily catching your breath. Enjoying the moment with one another and relishing in the aftermath of your shared experience.

“Such a good girl.” He praises. “Now, get some sleep.”

You roll your eyes. As if sleeping was going to come easy at this point.

“Night, sweetheart.”

“Night… daddy.” You smirk to yourself, amused and satisfied, and hang up.

You were pretty shocked to see Joel in your driveway come the next morning. He was scraping ice off your windshield and there was a fresh tossing of salt and sand on your walkway. There was some freezing rain overnight, unbeknownst to you.

“Hey, you really don’t have to do that for me.” You call out as you lock your door and make your way down the path.

“I know.” He scrapes at the last bits of frost. “Still gonna.”

You brighten at the way he says it. Feminism be damned, it felt really good to have this man looking out for you.

You were looking real cute in your Bean boots and beanie. Acting a little more timid compared to your late night activities.

You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets and walked over to your car with a cutesy spring in your step. Joel tried to hide his disdain for your carefree jaunt down the icy path. Still, he looked so handsome in his brown suede coat and his relentless refusal to wear a winter hat. Always wielding that power to make you melt in his presence.

“Thank you.” You smile at him as you approach him at arm's length. “Still not giving you the shirt back,” you tease.

“Don’t want it back.” He holds back a smirk and quickly looks you over. Reliving last night's photos, you can imagine. You suppress a wicked smile imagining him saving them in his main album like a heathen.

He takes a step towards you and with his gloved hand he gently holds your chin and brushes his thumb over. You note the subtle way his eyes soften. His longing stare makes it feel like he isn’t going to see you for a long time, and it lingers. He drops his hand and puts it on his hip. His other hand fidgets with his leg like he is unsure what to do.

“I’m not gonna be around for a little while” He hesitates and looks like he wants to say more and you pickup that something is off. Something he still has decided you are not privy to know about. Whatever has been bothering him the past few days is still weighing on him. “I got some stuff to take care of and I’ll be real busy.”

“Ok, Joel.” You don’t give away that you think he sounds suspicious. Guilty even. You want to press him, but you let it go, again. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions.

“Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either.

You can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

You are dragging your feet at work. After your late night fun with Joel your mind was wide awake and you had trouble sleeping.

Marlene is extra bubbly today. She is riding the Friday wave and you are grateful she takes on more of the customer facing role while you just work mindlessly making endless orders of lattes and cold brews.

“So, do you wanna?”

“Huh?” she had been talking to you, apparently.

“Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Oh. Yeah, ok.”

“You sound really interested.” She says sarcastically while she stares at you and crosses her arms.

“Sorry, just tired. Yes, I’d love to.”

“Good. Meet at Copper’s around 8? They are doing all night happy hour and open mic.”

“Sounds good.” And it does sound good. Something to do to keep yourself busy and it’s better than going home and watching Netflix by yourself. You have no idea how long Joel is going to be occupied and Marlene is the only other person you would consider a friend since moving there. It would be nice to spend some real time with her outside of work.

“Its not the classiest place, but the crowd is good. Dress slutty and maybe we can get some free drinks.” Marlene jokes, but you have every intention to dress like a knockout and have a good time.

When you walk in it becomes obvious you are overdressed. Many eyes were on you. You stuck out and had a lot of attention, some unwanted, but it also was flattering. Your choice of black minidress was conventionally good for a night of drinking and letting loose, but less practical once you walked through the door and saw what you were working with.

Copper’s was just a few notches above a dive bar and significantly less upscale than the late night Boston clubs and speakeasy’s you frequented. It was mostly crawling with locals, many of which you recognized from Grind. Despite that, the energy felt good. Friendly faces lit up when they saw you and even more cast some not-so-conspicuous stares at your body when they thought you were not looking.

The expansive bar wrapped around the back wall and there was a small stage on the wall across from it. High tops and tables filled out most of the middle with little room to do much more than sit and socialize. Get drunk off beer and cocktails and fat off appetizers and hot wings. The whole place was a little chaotic and rough but it felt cherished. It embodied that small town feel that was brought to life by the patrons.

Marlene walks up to you with some sort of fruity cocktail in each hand. Dressed much more casually than you with a high waisted denim skirt and a low cut band tee.

“About time you get here. Damn, girl!” She looks you up and down as she hands you the drink. “You don’t play around.” You share a laugh, and relish your new, unexpected friendship.

The cocktail is overkill on the sweetness but the vodka hits you hard when you take a sip.

“You didn’t tell me this place was a dive!” You tease.

“Well it’s the only bar we have open year-round so don’t knock it.” She pretends to scold you.

“I’m joking. This is perfect.” And it was.

You and Marlene make quick work of your drinks as you float around the bar. She introduces you to new people and you get friendlier with familiar faces. The bartender flirts with you when he learns you are new to town and you indulge in some harmless fun.

The bar is quickly filling up and you think it must be a fire code violation at this point. You buy the second round of drinks and take a seat while you still can. Laughter and the high from your buzz set you on the right path and you are filled with gratitude for your new friendships and your new home.

[Joel POV]

Joel fiddles with his empty beer bottle, unsure what the hell he is doing. Tess should be arriving any moment now, and he is no closer to ending things with her.

He has his guitar in tow, stowed against the wall. He perches himself in the very last seat, enjoying some solitude while the bar slowly starts to fill in.

He raises two fingers at the bartender and signals that he is ready for another beer. The bartender returns a moment later with a fresh Budweiser.

“There he is!”

Joel spins on his bar stool to the familiar voice.

“Hey Frank. Bill.” He nods to them as Frank slaps his back enthusiastically and sits down next to him.

“Been a while. Tess coming too?”

“S’posed to.” Joel takes a swig of his beer and doesn't give them much of an opportunity to ask more.

Bill sits silently on the other side of Frank, orders two beers and slides one to Frank. He never was one to talk much compared to his counterpart.

“Well, we have missed you. It has been at least a month since we have seen you.” Frank turns to Bill, urging him to converse a little. They were all old friends, but Tess was the one that tended to be the glue between them.

Bill nods in agreement. “Ain’t like it used to be. Not missing much.” Joel keeps to himself, staying mostly quiet while the other two make small talk between themselves. They know Joel well enough to recognize when he is in a mood and to give him space.

Tess walks up to the bar shortly after and throws her arms around Frank in surprise.

“Hey Stranger!” She turns to Bill and does the same thing but he is much more reserved. She intentionally makes him uncomfortable with an embrace, making Frank laugh at his discomfort.

Joel turns his body so his legs are back under the counter and sips his beer. The three of them chatter for a few minutes while Joel broods.

“They are going to start soon. Lets grab a table before they are all taken.” Frank was already buzzed and it made him even more eccentric.

“I’m fine right here.” Joel declines.

“Alright, well join us if you want to later.” Frank taps his shoulder and shuffles off towards some tables closer to the stage. Bill follows behind after giving a silent nod to Joel and Tess and lifting his beer to gesture goodbye. Poor Bill was not one for going out and socializing, but he did it for Frank.

Tess takes Frank’s seat and hails the bartender right away. She notices it's not their regular guy and isn’t too impressed with him making her wait. A silence looms for a few moments. The air is awkward and tense.

“Two shots of whiskey.” She requests and glances over at Joel as the bartender pulls out two shot glasses. Joel nods in agreement.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.” Joel is the first to speak.

“Likewise.” Tess says sharply but follows up softer. “I’m glad to see you.”

The bartender finishes pouring the shots and pushes one to each of them. They knock them back.

“Look, I meant what I said.” Joel sounds like he is reassuring himself as much as her.

“I know.” She retorts. His eyes find doubt in her words. “Jesus, Joel, I know. Can’t we just have some drinks? Don’t be such a sour puss.”

Joel scoffs at her words. He pushes his empty shot glass away and taps near his glass when the bartender walks closer. He pours another round. Joel and Tess knock back a second shot. It isn’t nearly enough to help him deal with his issues but it does help him lighten up a little.

Tess leans against Joel's shoulder and presses her hand onto the top of his thigh. She always was a lightweight, and had no problems coming on to him. No doubt she had pre-gamed before coming out, same as Joel.

“Why can’t it just be like this?” she traces a circle on his leg and moves her finger closer to his groin. He shifts his leg as she grazes his zipper.

“Nothings’ ever easy with us, Tess.” Joel pauses and puts his hand over hers. Reluctantly he peels her hand away. “We don’t want the same things anymore.”

“You don’t want this anymore?” She slides her hand back over his zipper this time with more force and she feels him twitch under the denim. She strokes her fingers down his length pressing into his seam. He stifles a groan and stirs in his seat.

“Tess..” His words plead her to stop, but his body reacts to her touch as it always does. Betraying his good intentions. Their attraction for one another was never in question. It just made things a whole lot more complicated. It was hard for him to resist her advances, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. She wasn’t exactly cooperating with his poor attempts to resist either.

“‘Course I do.” He looks at her, wantonly and holds her gaze. He pauses and chooses his words carefully. “But it’s not enough.”

She was observant of his reaction, calculating what sort of leverage she had left with Joel. She could see his genuine anguish and was reminded too well of the circumstances that brought them together in the first place. She never said it in all those years, not once, but she did love him.

“We can make it work… we always do.” Tess tries to reason with him, but she has defeat in her voice.

“It’s too late for us, Tess.” Joel reaches a hand out to the side of her face and gently holds her. She removes her hand from his lap and wraps around his forearm and covers his hand with her own, leaning into his touch. The moment is intimate and despite a room full of people it felt like they were the only two. The unspoken love between them was always there as a thread to keep them together. This was not ending because the love was gone, it was ending because it had no more room to grow.

He could see that she was finally accepting what he was saying. At least she was trying to. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and reassured her with his touch that his feelings for her were not lost, but he was not going to give into them anymore.

“I need a clear mind.” He locks eyes with her as he takes his hand back. “I’m playing tonight.”

“You are?” She pulls away, surprised and easily distracted with the subject change. She looks down and eyes Joel’s guitar case leaning against the bar. “Singing too?” Joel nods. This feels familiar and comforting.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tess’ smile fades and expression softens, filled with sadness. A realization that they had moved away so far from where they used to be. A silent moment lurks but it is not unwanted. It gives them both time to think.

“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her.

“Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic.

He was always going to love Tess.

She stands to interrupt the silence and reaches for his hand to follow.

“Lets find Bill and Frank. I wanna sit with them while you play.”

“Alright.”

Joel leaves his guitar at the bar and follows close behind her. The room is getting more and more crowded by the minute. The first act is wrapping up and switching over to another singer. The bar is alive with excitement.

Following Tess into the crowd his heart drops. There you are, just a few tables in front of him, sitting at a hightop with Marlene. Dressed incredibly sexy with your short dress and your cropped leather jacket. Knee high boots and your hair flowy and free. He wished he could take you right there and have his way with you.

You looked so happy. So unaware of what was about to happen. Innocent and at peace.

Tess grabs his arm and pulls him towards your table, excited to see you and Marlene and she makes a beeline to say hello.

You shouldn’t be here. His brain screams and his heart races. His chest gets heavy and tight as he inches closer to your table, unable to stop the encounter. It was too late. You had already noticed him approaching when Tess called your name and you saw him in tow.

He should have told you from the start, but he didn’t. Even if nothing had happened with Tess since he started falling for you he was well aware how this was going to look.

He was finally making some progress with Tess and couldn’t risk that getting ruined. At your expense, too. There was no other way.

And he knew right at that moment he was the biggest asshole in the world.

[Reader POV]

You turn your head as you hear your name being called out. You see Tess first and just towering behind her is Joel. It was impossible to miss him with his broad shoulders and brooding scowl. For a brief moment, you light up to see him when your eyes catch his.

He was a sight to behold. Wearing a button up navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his tight forearms. Jeans hugging his body and perfectly accenting his burly frame. His hair was also slicked back and styled like he gelled it fresh out of the shower. The moody lighting masking his silver streaks more than usual. He looked absolutely delicious and it made you ache for him all over again. You had just put him out of your mind too. It didn’t take much to stir up those feelings again when your desire for him was relentless and insatiable. Your heart races, fueled by your longing.

Until you realize they are together.

A wave of dread washes over you. Joel immediately looks away from you in a panic, confirming your fear that something is wrong. He won’t look at you but you can’t take your eyes off of him and ignore everything else around you.

“This is my new star employee. She’s wonderful.” Tess lights up talking about you and playfully bumps into your shoulder. She is babbling on but you have no idea what she is saying because you aren't listening to her anymore. Too preoccupied with figuring out what was happening. Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with.

Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting.

“Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant.

Nice to meet me?

He holds his hand out firmly, waiting for you to take it. His eyes plead with you to go along with it. You lightly grasp his hand. His fingertips drag tenderly as he pulls it away, as if they were apologizing. You say nothing but force a pathetic half-smile.

Tess clearly having one too many drinks hangs off of his shoulder and bumps into his hips. You try to hide the confusion and disgust on your face. Joel refuses to look at you again after your introduction.

He doesn’t reciprocate her energy at all. He looks like a lost dog. Uncomfortable and out of place. She seems oblivious to it, but you are dead focused on reading him to get some answers while she carries on talking. He is a stone wall, giving you nothing.

Marlene says something in response and the two of them laugh but you can’t hear anything but muddled voices over the loudness of your thoughts.

Joel nods at whatever she says but is silent. He looks so distant like he wants to shrink away. Guilty and cowardly.

Every piece of your being wants to scream. What is going on? You don’t want to assume anything. Maybe they are friends and you are overreacting. But then why wouldn’t he have said something sooner? Why did he pretend not to know you? Why won’t he even look at you? The questions keep piling up and your stomach is in knots.

“Come on, Joel.” She hooks her hand around his arm to pull him along. You’ve never seen him act so submissive. “See you girls later.”

As he brushes past you he catches your arm when no one is looking and he gives you the softest brush with the back of his hand. He tries to be inconspicuous and whispers in your ear as he passes.

“I’m so sorry.” His words stab you. They sound sincere and painful but offer no comfort or answers.

As Joel and Tess disappear into the crowded room of people, Marlene is quick to notice you are in your head but brushes it off as being a little drunk.

“God they are annoying.” Marlene shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink. You hear her talking, but still not really listening. You are preoccupied watching Tess take a seat a few tables away and see Joel make some brief small talk and wander off in the direction of the bar.

They didn’t look romantic, at least not from his angle. Are you just overreacting? The alcohol is probably just making you paranoid. You hate how insecure he makes you feel. The reality is that the more time you spend with him the harder it is to be apart. He was unlike any man you had ever been with on so many levels. He made you feel so needy for his attention, and jealous that he was with Tess in some capacity, instead of you. You feel foolish.

A singer briefly performs a song and the room gets loud again as voices rise between sets. You are silent and disassociating with everything around you, unsure if it's the buzz from the alcohol or your serotonin working overtime to calm you down.

“You ok?” Marlene asks.

“Yeah…”

Marlene prys. “You don’t look ok.”

It was obvious from that awkward moment earlier that she knew Joel. You wanted to spill and tell her everything and pick her brain, but your suspicions made you question where her loyalties may lie. You had never told her who your neighbor was and now you felt trapped and alone with this secret.

“I just need another drink.” You laugh and play it off coolly. “Gonna grab one at the bar, be right back.”

As you walk to the back of the room you take note of Tess still sitting at the table and talking to a few guys. It looks like they are familiar and catching up. Joel is standing at the crowded bar at the very end, mostly tucked away and probably how you missed seeing him sooner because you weren't looking for him. Against your better judgment you approach him.

You squeeze into the space next to him and try to keep a little distance from him, but your bare thigh rubs up against his leg as you step in and the person to your left pushes into you. He stays facing straight ahead and doesn’t acknowledge you, except to move his leg from its wide posture. His scowl works overtime to keep his composure. He takes a sip of his beer.

You hail the familiar bartender with your empty glass. He winks and goes to make you another. Drink three and he already has your order memorized and was probably hoping to get your number.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?” Your voice is a little shaky, wavering through your anger and confusion.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods, still staring off ahead.

You pause, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Your eyes bore into him and his ignoring you is making you fume more and more. You try to read him, and see the subtle changes as he gets more and more frustrated that you are not getting the hint to leave him alone.

“So… explain?” You push his chest, try to pry the information out of him. His jaw tenses. Glowering and annoyed. His calm facade being chiseled away by your incessant need for answers.

Joel looks at you with cold eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes you do not recognize. He recoils at your touch. Makes you feel like a dirty secret. He tips back his beer and downs the rest of the bottle.

“Can you please fucking say something?” You beg. You are annoyed at how he is acting. He was clearly frustrated by your being there and that anger was festering by the minute.

“This isn’t the time.” He says unphased by your request.

The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier.

“What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape.

“Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off. He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again.

“She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel.

You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you. His mixed signals were giving you whiplash. You suspect and even hope that his lashing out and acting this way is just a tactic to get you to leave the matter alone for now. It wasn’t going to work with you though. You were not afraid of him or intimidated.

His fingers curl over the counter and he flexes them, agitated. He taps his fingers in a rolling motion and pushes himself away from the bar with the heel of his hand.

“You should go home.” His words hurt and are spoken with finality through dark eyes that penetrate you. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“No.” Your brows furrow at the audacity. “I want to talk now.” You demand.

Joel ignores you and pushes past you to get to the back hallway. He makes you feel insignificant and like you are just an obstacle in his path to walk around. It makes you even more angry.

You tip back the bulk of your drink dangerously fast and follow him. There were so many people, no one was really paying attention to you and Joel, so why was he acting like this?

You stumble down the corridor to the bathrooms, instantly regretting your choices to drink so recklessly. It makes you feel gross and desperate that you have to chase him someplace so dark and secluded.

With his back to you he balls his hand into a fist and knocks on one of the bathroom doors with enough force to startle anyone in earshot. Someone inside yells that they need a minute.

He puts a hand on his hip and the other drags down his face as he paces and turns towards you. He knew you would follow. He fans his hand out in your direction, pleading with you to let this go.

“I said later.” His words sound tired from your persistence. He looks you up and down and you see something else in his eyes. Behind the anger, the hunger for you is still there.

“Joel.” Your anger starts to cool when you see how agitated he is. Afraid that you are just making everything worse. Maybe you should just leave this alone until later. You could be making a scene over nothing.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he speaks slowly and deliberately, trying to keep himself calm. You try to hold it back but you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Impatiently he bangs on the door again and an angry yell returns, calling him an impatient prick.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” You are not sure why you are the one defending yourself here. You feel the room spinning and reach to brace yourself on the wall before you stumble. The alcohol and the adrenaline of being afraid to lose Joel was just becoming too much.

Joel reaches out to you and grabs your wrist to steady you. He leads you a bit further down the hall, and just at the end is a small and dark alcove with storage boxes. You can still hear the loudness of Copper’s echoing through the hallway but at least it feels more private. Trashy, but discrete.

You back yourself against the wall, feeling overwhelmed by everything and your anger vanishing into nothing but hurt. Joel stands across from you with his arms crossed. He takes a deep breath.

“Listen. This ain’t got anything to do with you. Ok?” Now is your turn to respond with silence. You have a thousand questions but no words manage to come out, instead a tear drops down your face. You wipe it away quickly but he already noticed it.

“Sweetheart.” He closes the gap between you and holds your face in his hand, wiping his thumb over the wet trail on your cheek. You look up at him with glossy eyes and he looks pained to see you so upset. “Please don’t.”

You feel foolish crying given the real probability of infidelity. Still, you lean into his touch, craving the contact with him that he had been denying you. Soaking in his warmth and pushing the negative thoughts as far away as possible.

The heat from his cock feels so good against you, and you can feel him harden slightly when you push your hips into him. Even through tears your body can’t say no to Joel. His body towers over you and makes you feel calmer being in his clutches.

He sneaks a hand up the side of your leg and slips it under your dress. You feel his breath hot on your neck as he kisses you there. His scruff scrapes against the soft meat of your neck and makes you come undone. He presses his mouth into you, hedonic and greedy.

His thumb slides under the thin straps of your panties and he draws circles on your hip bone, dancing dangerously closer to your center. He doesn’t cross the threshold, and with restraint he slides his hand around to your hip over the top of your dress. He presses his forehead into yours and holds you there for a brief moment, relishing having you in his grasp.

As soon as the heated moment starts it fades and Joel takes a step back, holding you at arms length. With a desperation in his eyes, he speaks.

“Go home.” His words hurt. “Please. Go home.”

He turns and leaves you alone in the hallway, disappearing into the crowd. Discarding you like an unwanted problem. A mistake. Something to acknowledge only in the dark.

You feel absolutely blindsided and used and you don’t even know what is going on. You slide your back down the wall and curl your arms around your knees, hugging yourself. You have never felt more alone and abandoned. You hold yourself harder to keep back the tears.

Moments later you hear footsteps and a familiar voice rattles you back to earth. It’s Marlene, knocking on one of the bathroom doors asking if you are inside. You regain your composure and bring yourself to your feet and walk sheepishly towards her from the alcove. You adjust your dress and hair, both a little disrupted by Joel.

“There you are! Is everything ok? I’ve been looking for you.” You turn to face her and do your best to look composed and calm.

“Yeah I was just feeling my drink and had to get away for a minute.” You are a terrible liar.

“Uh huh...” She reaches her hand out and wipes some black makeup that still lingered on your cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re crying about that guy you’ve been seeing?” She tries to guess what could have you so upset. You fake a laugh and try to throw her off. She notices your messy hair. “Or did you makeout with that bartender that was hitting on you?” she asks excitedly.

“Nothing like that. I’m fine. Really.” You say with confidence but she is still skeptical. You take a few steps down the hallway. The words Joel begged of you before leaving you replay over and over.

“Hey, do you… know that guy?” You struggle to get his name out. “Joel?” She looks at you puzzled. Inquisitive. Amused at your question.

“Everyone knows Joel Miller.” She stares at you, her expression trying to hide some judgment but can’t resist. “Why?”

You don’t answer and just stare off blankly. You feel like a total idiot. A used trollop. She tries to read between the lines, assuming your drunk ass is crushing on him.

“Don’t get involved with Joel.” She warns and hooks her arm in yours and leads you back to the main room.

Your table had been scarfed up which was no surprise. There were so many people.

You are floating between being too drunk and carefree and on the verge of a mental breakdown. For now, the alcohol was keeping you afloat. This wasn’t the time or place to deal with whatever was going on with Joel and you were not in the right frame of mind to handle it.

You made up your mind. You were going to stay and try to salvage what was left of your night. You would stay clear of Joel. Why should he get to tell you what to do? You lose your footing and stumble but Marlene balances you.

“Ok… you need to drink water.” She mothers you and takes you by the shoulders to lead you back to the bar.

“Yes, mom.” You muster up a joke and take a deep breath.

Another half hour passes. You don’t see Joel but you don’t look for him either. You don’t want to see him or want him to see you. The water helps sober you up just slightly. The music is loud but soothing as it occupies your headspace. The current act was a man and woman duo singing something moody and playing guitar. They played a few songs and then the MC shared that they had just one more performer for tonight.

You lazily look at your phone and it’s so much later than you realized. You turn to ask Marlene if she is ready to go when you see him, walking towards the stage with a guitar slung on his back. Joel was the final performer? You watched him walk up to the stage with disbelief. He wanted you to go home so you wouldn’t see this? It felt forbidden to look and of course you needed to.

You had no idea he was the musical type. Realizing now you didn’t know much about him at all, apparently. The thought of that makes you feel sick.

You feel numb to everything around you. Maybe it was all just a bad dream. It had to be.

He takes his seat on a stool in front of the mic, propping up his guitar on his lap and strums a few chords. The audience is awakened. You hear people mumbling to their friends that they can’t believe Joel is playing again.

Apparently everyone but you.

You want to be angry. Upset that he was so deceptive to you and kept his life so secret. Dismissive about your desire to understand.

Your body betrays you, fluttering at the sight of him. The room is darkened and the light shining on him makes him look even more gorgeous, casting harsh shadows that accent his tight body. His silver streaks in his slicked hair catching the light and his broad frame defined perfectly in his well fitting shirt. His watch reflects the light as he positions his hand to cradle the neck of his guitar. His forearm flexes as he guides his hand over the strings. It makes you wet.

“This one’s…. for Tess.”

Your heart stops.

His voice wavers as he looks down to his guitar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The room is deadly silent. He has everyone’s attention. You are certain your heartbeat is the loudest thing as you are filled with panic.

Did you hear that right?

He strums his guitar and a low and gravelly voice follows.

Love will abide

Take things in stride

He said… Tess?

Sounds like good advice

But there's no one at my side

You feel a pit in your stomach.

And time washes clean

Love's wounds unseen

He said Tess.

That's what someone told me

But I don't know what it means

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The profound sadness in his voice hurts. It cuts you like a knife. His guttural but steady low singing moves you. You would never, but it makes you want to run up to him and hold him.

And I think I'm gonna love you

For a long, long time

You hate this. Being in this moment, trapped. It felt like listening to a private conversation. Still, you can’t look away.

Caught in my fears

Blinking back the tears

I can't say you hurt me

When you never let me near

The sharpness in his tone is notable and you see him clench his teeth at those words.

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

The pit in your stomach grows as your fears are being realized before your eyes.

And I think it's going to hurt me

For a long, long time

Joel was in love with her.

Wait for the day

You'll go away

Knowing that you warned me

Of the price I'd have to pay

You look over to where Tess was sitting earlier. She looks hurt and fragile, masked by anger. Not like anything you had seen before. You pity her. You pity yourself.

And life's full of flaws

Who knows the cause?

Living in the memory

Of a love that never was

Joel is hurting. Whatever their relationship was, he certainly wanted it to be different.

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and change your mind

And you are just a toy for him to play with. You need to leave. You need to be anywhere but right here.

And I think I'm going to miss you

For a long, long time

Suddenly the room is spinning. You are going to be sick. The alcohol and anxiety inside you mix together and you feel like you can’t breathe.

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you

Joel looks up and his eyes accidentally find yours for the briefest moment. An unintentional stare. He looks away and down at his guitar, no doubt outraged that you didn’t go home. That you saw him spill his heart and soul out to another woman.

For a long, long time.

Angry that you caught him cheating. The only truth you know.

The loudest silence follows as he strums the last chord. Then, the room erupts in applause and many people stand up to clap and cheer. Even the drunkest person could have watched that performance and felt his pain. You suspected few people realized it was so good because it was so honest.

Marlene looks over at you and can clearly see how ghostly and unwell you look. You shake your head and try to hold back the flood of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Can we… can we go? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Marlene puts an arm around you and helps you up. The tears start falling and you can’t stop it. You can’t hold back the flood of sobs and emotion leaving your body.

“Whoa… Whats wrong?” She puts her hand on your cheek and tries in vain to wipe the tears away. Looking extremely concerned and no doubt piecing things together.

You can’t even think properly. You gasp at the air to save you.

“I just need to get out of here.”

You glance up to the stage and Joel has already left it. Probably going to his lover or whatever the fuck that was all about. That sickness feeling surges back. You want to throw up. You want to disappear and erase every moment you had with Joel.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡

Thank you to @magpiepills for being my wonderful beta, ily 🧡

Tag List // @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks

@sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @604to647 @ann782-blog1 @brittmb115

@broken-paper-wings @elizabeth4th @fanficlover1414 @getitoutofmymindwrites @gintheginger

@dollydaydreamsposts @guiltyasdave @immyowndefender @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelsgreys

@katiexpunk @lizzie-cakes @lotusbxtch @loveisacowboyyy @mellymbee

@mermaidgirl30 @missannwinchester @mountainsandmayhem @pascalssbabyy @pastawench

@pearlessance @pedroswife69 @r4vens-cl4ws @saltytimemachinecat @stevie75

@survivingandenduring @swiftpascal @thischarmingmandalorian @toxicanonymity @untamedheart81

@vee-bees-blog @wintersquirrel @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @yxtkiwiyxt @unbeatablecurlgirl

#joel miller x reader #jmrecs #Ally

240 notes · View notes

peppertoastuniverse · 2 days ago

Note

Hi pepper!

I have a request for a one shot Gojo x reader. that’s fluffy based off of this song called “memory lane” by aqualina

I do have a scene based off of it but do whatever you’d like. Imagine this, either reader or Gojo finds some old footage of Him, reader, Shoko and Geto hanging out in their high school years. Reader and Gojo reminisce on old memories.

omg thank you for your sweet request ! hope this one was worth the wait ✨

something good – gojo satoru x reader

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru mention, ieri shoko mention, light angst with LOTS OF FLUFF, mentally strugging softboy!satoru gojo, lots of yearning, 2 pages of making out, slightly suggestive summary: gojo uncovers hidden memories and realises that all he needs is you wc: 3.6k

spring time, second year. “.. it looks like me and you haven’t really changed that much, hey?” he says softly, the fondness for you showing in his younger face all those years before. even when he didn’t ask, he knew that you would always be there. you were his constant. he didn’t know when he started seeing you in everything he did, if you could see his thoughts, you’d be able to see your smile reflecting back at you.

“satoru?” still concentrating on his nintendo DS, he sighs. he recognizes suguru’s tone, it either going to be a deep question or a fucking stupid one. he rolls over with a groan on suguru’s bed to face his best friend, his book that he was reading lay forgotten on his desk. “yeah?” satoru asks lazily, eyes darting back to his flashing screen. “who do you see yourself as in the future?” oh, here we go. satoru fights the need to roll his eyes. “what do you want for your life?” “pff, I want to just fucking beat this level.” he says aggravatingly, groaning dramatically as his character dies again. suguru laughs seeing his flashing screen, previous annoyance disappearing instantly, satoru can’t help but grin back – he always liked suguru’s laugh.

“...don’t you ever think about it though? the future?” the future?

he blinks. blessed with great strength and power, he knew from a young age that that choice wasn’t something that he was lucky enough to have. satoru never had to worry about the future, he had his whole life planned out for him. the thought never saddened him, and why should it? he wasn’t a fool and believed that all things were equal in this world. he was the chosen one, the future of jujutsu society – that was just how life was – another consequence of being the honoured he supposed. but glancing at suguru’s thoughtful expression, the flicker of hope and despair in his violet eyes, his rough hands winding through his dark hair, it was clear to see that this obviously mattered to suguru. satoru didn’t understand where suguru was going with this but it was just like him to worry about things that didn’t matter. satoru sighs, attention back to his game, “i dunno, it’s hard to say when we’re already the strongest. what else could you want?” suguru scoffs, shaking his head “you won’t be a teenager forever – you’d better wake up sooner or later, satoru.” satoru jolts awake, moving his blindfold up to rub his eyes irritatedly.

shit, for once he didnt mean to fall asleep. still feeling slightly disoriented, he hastily slides off of the couch, moving quickly to his room down the hall. groaning as he glances at the clock in the hall, he sighs hoping to ignore his slightly teary eyes. he was going to be late – you were going to kill him.

satoru hasn’t been sleeping well lately – not that it was from a lack of effort. he’s tried melatonin pills, exercising before bed, even those sleepy girlie time party mocktails – or whatever you called them – but nothing helped. it definitely wasn’t the endless missions that the irritating higher ups were making him go on, he was used to the workload. maybe he was worried about something. walking quickly through his room, satoru wondered if you were getting enough sleep. did you have dreams too? sleep never seemed to be there when he wanted it. rubbing his face, to fully pull himself into reality, satoru could still feel the remnants of the quiet comfort produced by his unexpected dream. he felt shame at the feeling. guilt in the comfort.

satoru didnt get a lot of sleep to begin with, but there were times where the extra hours awake weren’t all bad. he might as well be useful, which is how satoru started learning how to cook in the early hours of the morning, proudly surprising tsumiki and megumi with cute bento boxes. he would binge watch a whole tv series at once, determined to tell nanami all about it at jujutsu tech. but he thinks the best use of his time awake was when he was simply seated on the couch with you, listening to you talk about your day until the drowsiness would overtake you and he could just hold you for a little bit. he liked when you came over, tsumiki and megumi liked it too. just last week, when he saw your expression melt when tsumiki begged you to stay for dinner, giving into her like you always have. satoru remembers your grin as you sat next to silently pleased megumi, picking out the tender pieces of chicken from your plate to give him more of his favourite. when you were around satoru noticed that fushiguros were more at ease, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe it would be better if you moved in. but this was uncharted territory – a necessary boundary– protecting you from the rise and fall of his storm. his greed would have to lay dormant in his dreams.

but the lines were getting blurrier throughout the years. satoru couldnt deny how his face would light up when you’d call him while he was on a lengthy overnight mission. concern smothering the delight in your voice that he was still awake (“satoru! what the fuck, did you even sleep today?”), he’d easy dodge your concerns, covering the fatigue in his voice with teasing remarks and crude jokes to your obvious frown. “tell me something good, satoru” you’d say, seeing right through him like you always did, voice still laced with sweetness, wanting nothing more than to listen to him talk.

taking wide strides across his room to throw something on, satoru rustles quickly into his closet grabbing whatever looked clean and appropriate. if he showed up in his crinkled pajamas again to a meeting again, you’d surely cuss him out. his eyebrows crease at the thought of disappointing you, he was supposed to make you smile not stress you out – he made a promise to himself to always look out for you and there you go again worrying about him.

hastily grabbing the folded dark blue sweater at the back of his closet, blue eyes widen at a box toppling to the floor. its contents dramatically spilling across the cold hardwood floors.

great. he didn’t have time for this. groaning, he quickly kneels down to right the box, his breathing hitches.

strewn across his floor, he sees scenes of his missing dreams. photographs of his time at jujutsu tech as a student, his eyes taking in the many photographs that shoko had taken, moments of a simpler past. gathering the pile of photos, he slowly rifles through them – a photo of shoko and him with matching peace signs, a photo of you doing shoko’s hair, blurry photos of suguru chasing after you when you’d steal his cigarettes, snickering photos of him trying to climb suguru like a tree, a photo of you and kento sharing sandwiches.

another lifetime ago. he picks up the slightly faded photo of himself and you, a reminder of a well loved memory. satoru shakes his head softly at the way you sat on his back while he was sprawled out on the gym mats, his glasses perched at the top of your head acting as a crown on your shit eating face. satoru cant help but grin at his own small pout in the grainy photo. shoko always had the best timing. you had a bet with suguru that if you could get gojo’s glasses, he would treat you to unlimited free ramen from that nice place in shibuya with the fresh noodles for two months.

satoru remembered how you’d excitedly roll off him ignoring his grumbling, “toru, you know i had to win! it’s suguru! have you seen how much sugu eats? that fucker would run me dry! but don’t worry, i’ll get him to pay for you too.”

he never told you that he had let you win of course, not putting up much of a fight, distracted by the smile on your face – so bright that he couldn’t bear to diminish it. you must have had some sort of curse in your smile, even convincing a begrudging suguru into paying for satoru everytime, “sugu, you have to! he’s going to whine and cry, do you really want to deal with that?”

after that month, satoru never went to back that ramen place again– too sick of it to go back. he could hear the creaking floors when the three of you would arrive, the smell of the rich broth and the sound of suguru’s laughter when he teased you. satoru knows you havent had shio ramen since then – you insisted on have ramen for every meal for a month to suguru’s annoyance. perhaps he’d invite you to go eat there again if it was still there.

somewhere in his mind he thinks he hears the warm sound of your arrival, the jingling of the key that he gave you when the fushiguros first moved in. your usual light steps, heavy now with annoyance.

“really, satoru?” you yell, annoyance dripping from your sharp tongue. “i’ve been calling you a billion times, this is an important meeting – we can’t be late again. you fucking said you’d be ready by the time i –” you see his still figure hunched at his closet. your eyes narrow in confusion, your tightened fist unclenching at the sight of his still broad back.

“... satoru?” you call, voice softening as you notice the tension in his shoulders and the unnatural stillness of his too tall body. curiously you creep up behind him, your slow hands feel his shoulders, the tension cold and heavy in his muscles, your hesitant hands leaving a trail of fire behind them. arms weaving their way around his slender neck, a place that you’ve been before. your eyes take in the photos strewn on the floor, visions of a past life swirling in his cluttered mind. your eyes widen.

“..’toru?” you try again – more gently – calling him from the abyss, a light in a rough storm. eventually, you feel his large cold hand reach up to gently hold your right hand in response, his blue eyes tear away from the photographs, tousled white hair leaning against your abdomen, his tired eyes looking up at your concerned face.

“hey.” he greets you, trying to mask his fallen expression with a hollow smile, a carefully practiced defense, something that he developed in childhood but perfected in suguru’s absence. but you knew him well. you knew how his eyebrows would crease or how his lip twitched when he was on the verge of crying.

the dark rings around his eyes echoes you concern – were they darker than usual? you sigh as you take into account his far away stare, his icy watery eyes. crouching down, all anger forgotten, you look over his shoulder to take a closer look at the photo he’s holding. apologetically you let go of his hand in exchange for the photograph, sitting down beside him instead. you miss his eyebrows furrow slightly missing the comforting squeeze of your hand. a bittersweet smile dancing on your face, you stare at the photo, all words dying on your suddenly too heavy tongue. a photo of a past life, a happier time: suguru’s exasperated expression contrasting his bright amethyst eyes, face fashioned in a pout as he was sandwiched obnoxiously in between you and satoru. a wild grin decorating your face, mischievous eyes closed in mid laughter at suguru’s grumbling, while satoru pulled bunny ears behind suguru.

“oh god, look at him.” you whisper pointing out suguru’s dark shorter hair when he first arrived at jujutsu tech. you almost forgot what he looked like before he –

your eyes blink, you didn’t want to think about it.

satoru scoffs, “i know, doesn’t he look like an idiot?”

“remember how you’d make fun of him all the time? you were such a bully to him – he really hated you when we started.” you laugh sadly.

“that’s not my fault, he was fucking asking for it! he kept calling me q-tip! or nepobaby!” he counters, betraying tenderness in his tone. “shut up, i know you liked it when he called you anything close to baby!” you quip back, face denouncing you in a soft grin. a heavy silence invades the intimate space between you two, his absence sitting in between you, his rightful spot now vacant. suguru. you lean your head on satoru’s shoulder, his arm moving around you to settle at your waist instinctively. you look into his eyes reading him easily: i miss him too.

suguru’s defection was still a sore spot in your mind. satoru still hasnt been able to say his name out loud, suguru’s name carrying too much weight. you suspected that satoru wanted to carry his best friend with him despite the heaviness, a sense of masochistic comfort. you hoped that he knew that you were always there for him when the time came, you still felt the hurt too.

but there was a strange sort of solace that still lingered in his name. suguru’s memory was still soft if you focused but the pain caused by his name was still sharp and rough around the edges. when was the last time you and satoru spoke this openly about him?

the memory still hurt. a wound that would reopen at any given movement, unable to heal, cutting deeper as time went by.

mercifully sensing the pounding of your heavy heart, satoru clears his throat and fishes out another photo in the messy pile. a photo of shoko and himself, a cigarette dancing on shoko’s lips, gojo looking at her in mid conversation.

“ewww – look at you here.” you point out, wrinkling your nose, “this really wasnt your best haircut...”

he scoffs, the twinkle in his eyes showing you his amusement. “you’re the one who did it – ”

“oh fuck, right!” you laugh, thinking about the very first time satoru begged you to cut his hair – shoko was away on a rare mission– yelping at you when you closed your eyes in nervousness, resulting in an uneven cut. you both remembered how shoko laughed so hard she cried when she saw him. you definitely didn’t cut his hair this time, admiring his soft locks and even trim. you move your generous hands to comb through his soft hair gently, enjoying the feeling of his undercut under your slow hands. he closes his eyes, a please sigh escaping his lips, tension immediately easing from his body.

“it’s better now though, hey? makes me even more handsome,” he teases, his eyes still closed.

“nah, still ugly. brings out your buggy eyes. ‘m so glad you started wearing the blind fold.” you mutter, still playing with his hair absentmindedly.

ignoring his whine, you laugh, “wow, shoko still looks amazing though.. look at her cute little cheeks! I forgot how she used to put pins in her hair like that.” previous annoyance disappearing instantly, satoru can’t help but grin back – he always liked your laugh.

he watches while a strange far away expression infiltrates your face, picking up a photo, edges creased contrasting the vividness of his memory. shoko and suguru smiling at the camera, while you and satoru were in mid conversation smiling at each other. spring time, second year.

“.. it looks like me and you haven’t really changed that much, hey?” he says softly, the fondness for you showing in his younger face all those years before.

even when he didn’t ask, he knew that you would always be there. you were his constant. he didn’t know when he started seeing you in everything he did, if you could see his thoughts, you’d be able to see your smile reflecting back at you. your presence somehow simultaneously exciting him and putting him at ease. maybe it started when you stole his glasses in first year, or the countless detentions you both got in. surely, it must have been the night that suguru left. in the darkness he wasn’t sure who was holding who, your tears mixing with his as you clung to him in your sleep.

maybe it was when you showed up at megumi’s school when he first got into a fight even though you were in the middle of a mission last month, a fire in your eyes. or maybe it was when you comforted tsumiki when she came home upset over a fight with one of her friends. maybe it was in the way you talked her through it, rubbing her back gently while you listened to her through her teary words. or when you ate all his mochi yesterday, cheekily claiming “you said you’d share, satoru!” whenever it started, he knew that something different was blossoming into maturity in the past few months – something that he never knew could be a possibility – let alone for someone like him.

“we should take an updated photo, we never have photos of just us,” you decide, turning to face him fully. “my phone or yours?” he asks, eyes still the photo, breathing in the way you smiled at him all those years ago. unchanged.

“mhm, yours.” you say as he digs his phone out of his back pocket. “i want a good one, ‘kay toru?? i dont need any more photos of you sticking your tongue out..” you mutter, scooching closer to him. “oy, come closer – you’re so far,” you whine, grabbing his forearm urging him to get closer for a better photo.

“c’mere then..” he mutters, gently shuffling you so that you’re sitting in his lap, as you hum in content at the warmth of his skin against yours. he easily drowned you, this familiar place, his familiar embrace. yet this time you felt the tide shift, something softer, vulnerable – the calm waters after a storm. you lean your head to his as you both smile for the camera as the shutter echoes through the room.

moving impossibly closer to you, he turns his head towards you, his phone lay forgotten on the floor. sensing his stare you turn your head to his, eyes questioning his soft gaze. as the air grows thicker bursting with the weight of years of fondness and poorly hidden desires, your eyes flicker to the curve of his lips. breathing the same air as him, you feel light headed, drunk off the very presence of him.

inching closer he feels his soft lips meet yours, a fluttering feeling, hesitant and foreign but firm and sure. you easily wind your arms around his neck, sighing as you pull him closer, jumping into the deep end when you’ve been wading in the shallows for years. he effortlessly maneuvers you to straddle his lap, large hands pressing against your back, pulling you closer to meld his heart to yours, his hands begging to memorize the feeling of you.

too preoccupied drowning in him, you hesitantly break away from him to breathe, only to rest your forehead on his. grounding yourself in the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek, uneven and heavy, your erratic heartbeat threatens to break the fragile silence. the air grew hot and heavy, buzzing with anticipation and nerves. satoru bumps his slender nose with your playfully, causing you to grin. a relieved smile dancing on his face in reply, a silent conversation dancing in his eyes, a celebration of his love, a proclamation of his devotion to you, an apology for waiting this long, an admission of forever.

needing to feel more of him, you move your hand to cup his flushed cheek, the sweetness in his skin grounds you once more – satoru was always the question and the solution wound tightly into one. confessions of the past and future swirling in his blue, you meet the weight of his tender gaze like you were carrying the strongest’s life in your very hands. his skin burning with your touch, you greedily move to kiss him to soothe the ache, swallowing his smile in your greed.

melting with the reassurance of his lips to yours like a signature on a previously forgotten love letter, you wonder how you lasted this long without his lips on yours. you bite back a pleased smile as he reciprocates eagerly, deepening the kiss, tongues dancing, his soft lips moving in tandem with a bruising promise to always be yours if you let him. when your hands weave through his hair, a dark purr escaping his throat, reverberating through your core. his arm grips you tightly as his other hand moves to settle at the nape of your neck, feeling your heart beat in sync through his flushed skin.

breathlessly, with great effort two magnets part, your hands loosening your grip on his soft t shirt. breaths tangling together, drinking in each other.

still intoxicated by the feeling of you, satoru can’t help but nuzzle into your warmth, his forehead finding yours once more. his eyes still on your swollen lips, evidence of his want, his mind already on the thought of kissing you again, like he would die without the feeling. “y’okay?” you mumble, heaving chest enjoying his touch.

he chuckles at the absurdity of your question, you should know by now that he was always okay as long as you were with him – the only time that he feels he would get better is when you were there.

“hey – don’t laugh…” you mutter suddenly embarrassed by his stare, a deeper blush finding a way onto your cheeks emphasizing your growing pout. laughing fully now, his strong arms bring you closer as they wind around your waist sweetly.

unable to resist, you lightly kiss his jawline as his wandering hands brush some hair out of your face. “hmph, you’re such a dick and after everything i do for you too…” you playfully whisper without malice, leaning into his broad chest, rolling your eyes.

“mm.. how should i make it up to you?” he mumbles, slender hand tilting your chin up to force your gaze to look at him. as you bravely meet his tender gaze, you notice that something different was in his eyes.

“damn, i gotta help you with that one too?” you tease, giggle blooming in your throat as he kisses our nose gently. “well… i have a few ideas.” he hums, moving to kiss you fully, slow and sweet savouring you. “you always do…” you mutter, eyes on his grinning lips.

perhaps now he could answer suguru’s question he thought as you move to rest your head on his shoulder. satoru knew he wanted you. holding you in his arms now, feeling your shy smile on his neck – he knew that you were something good.

requests are open a/n: they did not make it to the meeting lol ngl this request was tough, but i loved the challenge of writing my first smoochie smoochie scene.

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

85 notes · View notes

hanfourz · 2 days ago

Note

HI POOKIES i'm soso busy this week i can barely read anything here omg </3 but i loved your latests work, vamp riwoo especially... wow. happy november btw !!! i also find nnn super funny for some reason, how do you think the bonedo legal line would be like during nnn? :p

— 🐈‍⬛

🪼- oh i feel u, it's been kinda crazy lately (ᵕ—ᴗ—) thank u so much!!! im so glad u liked vamp!riwoo. as a riwoo fangs enthusiast i Had to do it. it's so funny bc cherry literally was just talking abt how she wants to do a post abt bnd doing nnn and then we saw this 😭

🍒 - im so sorry for letting this rot for so long 😭 i will try my best to explain so. it's so funny cuz i literally talked about it with ki right before we got the ask! great minds think alike☺️

warnings: SMUT [MDNI!!!], hc format, mentions of oral (f. rec), light mentions of bondage (kinda), cocky taesan & leehan lolol

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ sungho

give it a week until he falls down on his knees (quite literally). you just look so beautiful how could he NOT want to eat you out on the spot? (of course, you never wanted to admit to yourself that you badly needed it too) but knowing how obsessed he is, seeing you dressed up... you should've known the night would end with him in between your legs.

↘ rest under read more !

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ riwoo

i give it two weeks until he's way too horny and is begging you to touch him. while you refuse because you enjoy teasing him so much. he was so confident about making it through the whole month. now he's laying on the bed, tied up, waiting for you to touch him :( and how could you deny him when he whines so prettily for you?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ jaehyun

poor guy wouldn't even last 5 seconds. :( he's so obsessed with you. he's like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time when he sees you. doesn't matter what you're doing or how you look or how long you've been together or how often he gets to touch you. he's begging you to let him touch you, even though you both decided together to participate. you should have known neither of you were gonna last. you can't get enough of each other.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ taesan

either two seconds or he's pulling it through, no in between. you two make it like a competition to see who'll last longer. he gets needy like halfway through but he will never admit it to himself, he's so annoyingly overconfident. and he would rather die than lose to you. so he teases you until you're the one begging for him then teases you for not being able to last. like he wasn't purposely putting his hands on your tits or making you sit on his lap...

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ leehan

3 weeks until he gives in. when you tell him that you want to participate he's like "you sure you can live without my cock for a whole month?". you decide to teach his cocky attitude a lesson and you try everything to rile him up. (which really isn't difficult to do.) "you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" what, you? never! "what do you mean? i haven't done anything." you bat your eyes at him, feigning innocence. he grabs you by your waist. "just say you want me too, and I'll give it to you" but you will not give him the satisfaction, you refuse to lose against leehan's charm. no matter how tempting it is. "i don't need anything, but it seems like you're the one who can't keep his dick inside of his pants. you just need to say that i won." is all you say and he decides he needs to fuck that smirk off your face.

82 notes · View notes

ihrthoney · 2 days ago

Text

you know what the time is, ak!jason thoughts

me when i don’t write fics so i make hcs

i feel like jason will sometimes lose himself, his sanity will be spread thin with planning to take down batman (he planned for like a year then the moments in the game happen in one night)

even though he tweaked your devices and had your full trust, he couldn’t trust you. not completely.

he had a tracker in your jewelry, when he was gone for days to train he could always pull up where you were. 99% of the time you were at the safe house, you respected him enough to stay home and wait for him. granted he got you whatever you wanted to keep busy. whatever you wanted.

you were so compliant that it started to make him doubt. what if you were just taking advantage of him? what if none of this was real? what if batman sent you and you’re working undercover?

thoughts filled his head, drowning him. he couldn’t think straight, it became hard to look you in the eyes, to let you come close to him.

whenever you asked to go out, he let you but always followed. it tugs at him at not trusting you because he wants to so badly, but he can’t get the doubts out of his mind.

he hates feeling obsessive. he hates the look on your face when he denies your request to go out for the day. your face fell before instantly softening and becoming understanding.

of course he wanted you to go out, but his mind was telling him you’d betray him. that you would try to leave him, he was abandoned too many times he can’t.. he can’t have you leave too.

one night, you woke up and found him watching you sleep. he was in bed next to you, sitting up against the headboard. given his build he looked intimidating in the dark room, but he was your jaybee.

without another word, you sat up against the headboard and locked your pinky with his.

nothing is said for a long time, the distant honks of cars and yelling is carried through the wind that filters through the room,

“i don’t ever want you to leave.”

“i’m not going anywhere, jay.”

“what if i ask you to never leave the safe house.”

“not even with you?”

your soft voice frustrates him, you should be mad, irritated, he’s not being rational!

“you could be living a normal life-“

“stop that, jason.”

“it’s true. you’re like a bird trapped in a cage, you should be out there! not here with me.”

“but i want to be here with you. this is my choice. you aren’t making me do anything, you know that right?”

he doesn’t want to look at you. a part of him wants the rage to consume him, to swallow him whole. jason wants you to run only so he could convince you to come back.

he needs you so badly, he wants you more than anything but his own mind can’t let him.

your free hand moves to slowly turn his head towards you, he lets you break himself out of his thoughts,

“i love you, jace. more than your mind could ever comprehend. anything you need me to do to make you feel safe, i’ll do it.”

“but it jeopardizes your comfortability.”

“who said that? i’m perfectly comfortable here.”

“in this cage?”

“in our safe house. we have traps, cameras, and weapons in case anything happens. i have a device i can click just once and you’ll be here in 5 minutes tops”

“3 minutes.”

his correction makes you laugh, “you bought me a whole fucking pc and made some of your workers play games with me. i can promise you, i don’t feel trapped baby.”

“this isn’t normal though, you should be allowed to go out whenever you want to.”

“and i can, you just have to be with me. it’s not like i want to go anywhere without you anyway.”

“we can’t go to the beach, or pools, or hotels, or-“

“we can if it’s another state.”

“but we can’t leave gotham.”

“then let’s build a pool.”

“you always have something to say, don’t you?”

“i’m always here to keep you in check, i always have been.”

“yeah, a pain in my ass you are.”

he wants you so bad omg. he’s still working through his trauma and he hates to burden you, but just the feeling of your hand in his is enough to pull him out of that dark place.

#ᝰ honeywrites #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight x you #arkham knight fluff #arkham knight #arkhamverse

117 notes · View notes

ghostgirl-22 · 18 hours ago

Note

Somehow the conversation coming up that art doesnt know what he likes or knowing his own body because he always did what he was supposed to and no girl has felt the need or want to touch him because "hes the man and shouldnt need all that" "guys take care of the girl not the other way around" iykwim so patrick decides to help him figure it all out

How much pressure he likes, how wet he likes it, if he like gentle or nipping, gripping or biting.. where his erogenous zones are... kissing the sensitive parts of his inner thighs, what roles he likes to take, how he likes to be spoken to...?

U can ignore this part but Maybe pat asks "You never even tried doing it yourself? Like taken your time and see where your hands go?"

art says how would i be able to figure it out when i dont know where to start or what to do. Pat understands there probably a repression aspect to it aswell aand so they discover art together with pat guiding him through this new world/exploration

Omg! Your ask is literally ten times better than what I wrote but I love you for letting me try it dear nonnie <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Basically this is just yearning and longing and porn with the thinnest of plots. So Artrick core.

——

It all comes out over holiday break. Art is staying with Patrick, it’s a few days after Christmas and Art’s parents are already busy with fundraisers and meetings. To them it doesn’t matter how Art gets back to Stanford, as long as he gets back so they could care less that Patrick keeps him for a few days.

They’re up too late. Patrick is lying on the floor with his laptop, looking up the scheduled matches for this season and who he’ll likely be playing. Art has taken over his bed, flipping channels on the television, going back and forth between American Pie on TBS and ESPN. Patrick is certain the sex conversation starts because they’re watching American Pie but what starts out as Art trying to get more information about Patrick’s sex life with Tashi leads to Art admitting he’s never really explored what he likes in bed.

“What do you even mean, explore?” Art asks, suddenly self conscious. He’s such a little perfectionist, checked off all the boxes, straight As, Ivy League college, division one tennis player, first girlfriend at the “right” age, lost it (many times) before high school finished. Patrick can tell it’s frustrating him to feel like he missed something. “Do you mean… touching myself?”

That’s really all it takes to divert Patrick’s attention. He shuts his laptop and sits up, gazing at Art. “Yeah jerking off is one part,” Patrick says, “But I meant what do you like?”

“I like having sex,” Art shrugs, “it’s simple. What else is there to explore?”

“Oh come on,” Patrick smirks. “It’s anything but simple. Do you even know your favorite position?”

Art rubs his arm, its so obvious he’s never even thought about it. “I don’t really… I mean um… I like… you know… the usual way.”

“Yeah that checks out,” Patrick says teasingly and Art’s gaze darkens.

”Why? How do you fuck Tashi?”

Patrick grins because he knew it was coming. “Nice try.”

Art huffs an irritated sigh. “Whatever man. Just because I’m not trying every position or whatever. I mean what difference does it make? She still…everybody still leaves happy.” Art picks up the remote and switches channels again like he’s done with the conversation but his skin is starting to flush.

He’s so easy. Patrick decides to push a little more. He shoves Art’s legs over and settles next to him on the full sized bed. Art just sits up, crossing his legs, he rests back on his palms.

Maybe it’s because Patrick helped him with his first sexual experience or maybe it’s because he has some kind of corruption kink but he loves whenever their relationship shifts back around to this show-me-how dynamic.

Art is so good at walking this line of self delusion that he’s this perfectly good straight boy… but when he needs something from Patrick. Usually experience. That’s when the lines start to blur. It’s a fucking mess but that’s exactly where Patrick lives.

“Look dude it’s not even about that.” Patrick continues. “It’s about… you remember when we were kids. You were so scared you’d suck at kissing so I—”

“Yeah I was a dumb kid,” Art interrupts quickly.

“Sure but you practiced…” Patrick points out. “And you’re a really good kisser now,” he says, smirking. Art looks away.

Patrick sighs. “I’m just saying if you play around… and learn what you really like. Sex can be really, really fucking good. Besides that’s half the fun of it anyway, right?”

Art chews his bottom lip and then he sighs. “It’s just… I mean I’m a guy… I thought I was supposed to look things up. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“What did you look up?”

“I don’t know, how to put on a condom? Only the first time. And like there was this article about unhooking different types of bra straps. Shut up,” he adds, shoving Patrick gently because he can’t help laughing at that.

“Okay how about this?” Patrick says, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. He leans back against the headboard, “Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer going fast?”

”Both,” Art says. “I like whatever she likes to do.”

“You don’t have a preference? What about when you’re touching yourself?”

Art plays with his tongue, rolls it back and forth in his mouth as he’s thinking. “Slower.” He says after a while. “Like… when I get the chance I like it…” He glances at Patrick and then looks determinedly back at the tv. “Slower.”

Patrick takes a breath and tries to slow himself down too but he can already feel his cock starting to fill up. “Okay what about touch? What makes you feel good? What gets you up?”

Art frowns. “I um… I don’t—- what about you? Where do you—” he sighs and then shakes his head. “Patrick, this is ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t, what’s ridiculous is you really don’t know what you like.”

Art is gripping the remote too tightly. “I know what I like,” he says.

“What?” Patrick gazes at him.

“Lots of stuff,” Art says.

“Like?”

Art rubs his thighs, Patrick looks down, following the anxious movement.

“I know something you like,” Patrick says after Art doesn’t say anything for a minute. “You want me to show you?”

Art starts playing with his tongue again, he takes a deep breath and nods and Patrick sits up so he’s close.

“You like it when someone kisses you here,” he brushes his knuckles along the junction between Art’s neck and collar bone and he shivers, pulling his shoulder up towards his ear. Patrick considers going in for the kiss but getting Art in a headspace is a delicate thing. It can lead everywhere and nowhere depending on how Patrick handles him.

And he knows Art… fuck… apparently he knows things about Art’s body that he’s not even aware of. This messy little “friendship” is gonna drive him crazy.

“Can I—“ Patrick lets his fingertips settle along the nape of Art’s neck where his curly hair is fine and baby soft. Art closes his eyes momentarily and takes a little breath.

”You like that too,” Patrick says.

“Yeah,” Art says softly.

Patrick licks his bottom lip to keep himself from licking at the flush on Art’s throat. “Do you like being on top? Or on the bottom?” Patrick asks, carefully.

Art opens his eyes and bites his lip again before taking a deep breath. “I think I prefer it when she… when she’s on top.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know… it’s hot. I mean…” he looks at Patrick. “I like looking at her tits when she….” He looks down shyly. Such a stupidly, pretty boy.

Patrick smirks. “So you're a boob guy.”

“So are you,” Art says, like he’s been caught doing something bad and doesn’t want to be the only one to get in trouble.

Patrick shrugs. “I love everything. I’m more of an ass man. But if you want to kill me show me a great pair of legs… I mean… fuck.”

Art rubs his thighs again. “I really like Tashi’s legs.”

“I bet you do,” Patrick smirks, leaning in. “What about you? You ever let her touch your chest?” He teases his fingers over Art’s t-shirt where his pecs are. Art gasps lightly as Patrick pinches just the right spot and the nipple starts to harden immediately. Patrick circles it lightly and Art shifts on the bed, pressing one hand into his lap and pushing Patrick away with the other. “Fuck no. That’s weird right?” Art asks, his voice a little pitchy.

God he fucking loves it. Patrick wants to push him down on the bed. But he sits on his hands to make himself behave. “What’s weird about it?” Patrick asks.

“I mean… I’m a guy. Why would she want to touch my… my nipples.” Art huffs a nervous little laugh.

“To make you feel good,” Patrick says softly.

Art licks his lips idly and lets out another breath.

“What about grip… do you like it soft?” Patrick asks.

Art nods. “Yeah.”

“This?” Patrick grips his wrist gently. “Or this?” He asks gripping a little tighter. “Or?” He grips tighter still, until Art squeezes his eyes shut.

“The… the middle… the second one.”

“Just right,” Patrick lets up on his grip. “What about here?” Patrick trails his fingertips…slowly… down Arts tummy.

“Stop,” Art breathes as Patrick’s fingers reach the elastic of his boxers.

Patrick shrugs, letting go of the elastic and smirking. He could do this all night. Touch and poke and prod and feel. He knows it’s turning Art on. He’s flushed so fucking beautifully, worrying his lips all red, squirming on the mattress.

“What about…” Patrick sits up on his knees and plays his fingers into Art's hair. Art looks up at him eagerly. Eyes fully dilated, lips parted, breathing shallow.

God.

Such a fucking pretty, pretty boy.

All Patrick wants now is whatever the fuck he can get away with. “Can I kiss you soft?” He asks as he presses his lips to Art’s mouth. Art nods and opens up, sliding his tongue into Patrick’s mouth right away, wanting it. Even though they’d only ever kissed a handful of times, ever since the first time their lips touched Patrick could tell that for Art kissing would be a Thing with a capital T. Patrick caresses the side of Art’s throat and feels it as he shivers. He listens to the way Art’s breathing. So aware of how Art’s body is moving. He’s opening up, he’s uncrossed his legs, knees pulled up, he’s grabbing at Patrick’s t-shirt trying to pull him closer as Patrick starts to deepen the kiss. Pressing his tongue more firmly into Art’s mouth. Art really likes that. He starts gasping, nibbling on Patrick’s lip before pushing his own tongue back in. When he starts moaning Patrick pulls back. His heart is railing against his ribcage and he’s losing himself. His hips are pressed in between Art’s legs feeling everything. Certain Art is feeling everything.

”Fuuckk,” Patrick breathes. He flops onto the bed resting his head on his pillow. If he were with Tashi right now he’d probably be halfway inside her already. Everything with her is impatient, horny and desperate. Everything with Art is pleading, anxious and pretending he doesn’t want it as badly as he fucking does.

Art is breathless, lips kiss swollen, he scoots back to get distance. “This is… so…”

“You like dirty talk?” Patrick interrupts.

Art smiles a bit and shrugs. “Kinda.”

“What’s kinda?” Patrick asks.

Art kicks his legs, lightly. “I like… I like when she tells me how she can’t wait for me to fuck her…”

Patrick sits up on his elbows. “Like I’m so wet for you baby, can’t wait to feel that big dick inside me?” Patrick says softly.

”Jesus Patrick,” Art says, covering his face.

“What?” Patrick says, smiling slightly at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're wet,” Art whispers.

“So what do you want me to say?” Patrick says, he gets up again, abruptly crawling back into Art’s personal space. Art reacts at the sudden movement by opening his mouth… Patrick can see his little pink tongue, desperate for another kiss.

Art is gazing at him, pupils so large the rings of blue are barely visible. They’re so close, their lips are almost touching when Art licks his mouth. A horny little mess, if Patrick tried it now he thinks Art might let him fuck.

Patrick smiles and then leans against Art’s ear. “Can’t wait till you fill me up and fuck me good baby…” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. “I can fuck you good.”

Patrick thinks he’s gonna go insane.

Art’s breathing starts to pick up again.

“Can you fill me up and stretch me… fuck me so hard I can feel you for days…” Patrick whispers.

“Mmhm,” Art hums eagerly, he starts lapping and sucking along Patrick’s throat, it’s so fucking yummy.

Patrick rubs his hand lightly along the inside of Arts thigh, trying to graze his knuckles along Arts cock. Art hitches another breath.

“That feel good?” Patrick asks gently.

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly.

“You like it when she goes down on you before you fuck her?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, mm, yes,” Art says eagerly, shifting on the bed so Patrick can get between his legs. It’s so slutty the way he opens up so quickly, knowing what Patrick wants to do. Patrick presses a kiss along the inside of his upper thigh.

“Mm,” Art whines, and Patrick’s sure he’s just found another sensitive spot. He kisses it again, this time sucking at the skin there and Art moans properly. Patrick grins and starts palming him through his shorts. His own cock feels so fucking heavy. He’s thought about fucking Art since the first time he watched him nut all over himself but right now he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get this.

“You gotta tell me how you want it to feel,” Patrick says looking up at him. “Can you talk me through it?”

“What if your… what if we get caught?” Art whispers.

“Everyone is asleep by now I promise,” Patrick says.

”Are you sure?”

“Fucking yes.” Patrick says impatiently, though if he’s honest he wouldn’t give a fuck at this point if they were all right outside his bedroom door. He can’t help himself, he tugs Art’s shorts down to see it.

He’s still barely got any hair there and he’s definitely still blonde everywhere. He’s so hard, his cock is so pretty and pink and full to the tip, pearls of cum dripping. Patrick laps it up and Art hisses.

“Talk to me,” Patrick whispers. “You like it wet?”

“Fuck,” Art breathes. “I mean yes. Yeah I want it wet. Oh god.”

Patrick fills his mouth.

“Oh— oh— fuck—-“ Art groans, he’s so loud. His hips stutter but Patrick holds him down, swirls his tongue around, doesn’t swallow anything, just drools all over it. Arts toeing the bed, trying to push up. “Mm fuck your tongue can you… can you do it faster…” Art moans. So Patrick moves his tongue faster.

He doesn’t ask, maybe because he’s too far gone but he teases his fingertips up along Art’s entrance and the sounds that Art makes in response, make Patrick shiver.

“Patrick,” Art gasps, his body is practically vibrating. Patrick presses his fingers in a little deeper and he moans like the boys do when Patrick’s on those websites in the middle of the night with the volume down low. But Art can’t be quiet… and Patrick doesn’t want him to stop.

“Patrick! Patrick I can’t—- I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum— holy shit—“ Art wasn’t even done saying Patrick’s name when Patrick’s mouth started filling up. And boy does it fucking fill up. Patrick’s swallowing, and swallowing and swallowing. He’s so greedy he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of it. Art is whining breathlessly when Patrick finally lets it drop from his mouth, still so shiny and red and wet, twitching helplessly. Patrick just stares at it, dizzy for a minute before he drops onto the bed next to Art and reaches between his legs and starts touching himself.

Art sighs and pulls his shorts up properly before rolling over. He puts his hand where Patrick’s is and starts helping. “What about you? Art asks softly. “What do you like?”

A/N: Sorry this took hundreds of years my love. I wanted to do better but unfortunately got lots to catch up on so it shall be good enough <3

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers smut #art x patrick #artrick #thanks anon!#anon answered #anon ask

90 notes · View notes