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ithebookhoarder · 4 months

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(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through.

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest.

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes.

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’.

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him.

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain.

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death.

David Rossi

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?”

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close.

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded.

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it.

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.”

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up.

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force.

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is.

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened.

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance.

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat.

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you.

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.”

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him.

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it.

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public.

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do.

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this.

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her.

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable.

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected.

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it.

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it.

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest.

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir.

“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed.

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly.

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment.

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home.

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you.

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building.

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.”

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him.

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep.

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing.

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case.

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him.

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in.

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby.

Masterlist

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds #BAU #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #david rossi x reader #david rossi #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #penelope garcia x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #hotch x reader

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months

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santa baby

eddie munson x fem!reader

2.3k

summary: watching eddie play santa for your kids makes you want to show him some…. appreciation

cw: 18+ ONLY. reader and eddie are married & have kids, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink

Presents in crinkly patterned paper are placed delicately under the tree, your nimble fingers making sure each bow is perfect and every tag that reads ‘From: Santa’ is visible.

Eddie tip-toes into the living room from your bedroom, the final stack of gifts in his arms. Your two daughters sleep soundly in their beds, likely dreaming of those sugarplums the stories talk about. He hands you each present one by one, letting you find the perfect place for them around the base of your glittering tree. The tiny colored lightbulbs cast a pretty pink glow throughout the room, and it fills your heart with warmth.

When you’ve finished your work, you turn to see Eddie filling the stockings, the ball of his Santa hat bobbing with each movement. He hangs each one back on the mantle with so much care, he wouldn’t want to drop one and send one of your little ones running to see what caused the noise. A fire crackles in the fireplace, fending off the cold of the snowy landscape outside.

“Is that everything?” he double checks, giving you a sweet grin.

“Not quite. Santa has to eat his cookies,” you tease, moving closer to him and tugging on his hat as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Damn, how could I forget these delicious cookies?” he asks, kissing you on your cheek and squeezing a healthy handful of your ass before moving towards the small table that holds a plate of sugar cookies. You giggle, still blushing like you did the day you met him.

You can’t help but smile when you turn to look at the baked treats, each one having been eagerly frosted by tiny hands. The girls had done their very best, and you know your husband certainly won’t complain about a little too much icing dripping down the sides. A glass of milk rests beside the plate, and Eddie takes a hearty sip of it after polishing off his first cookie.

It makes your heart swell, the way he breaks off one little bit of the second cookie to leave on the plate. A tiny splash of milk rests in the bottom of the cup. To make it look as though Santa couldn’t quite finish it all. This is the first year your girls are both old enough to really enjoy and get excited about the holiday, and it makes you so happy to witness it through their eyes.

Having a partner that plays along perfectly only makes it sweeter. Honestly, Eddie has probably been more into it than you, making everything so fun for your children. He stops at nothing to make them happy, to make things magical for them. He makes things magical for you, too, and it fills you with an impossible amount of joy.

To your surprise, it also fills you with need. A deep, hot desire for the man you’ve made a home with. It’s insatiable, the way it hits you like a train. Something about watching him play up this whimsical figure for the sake of your kids, something about him in that damn Santa hat. Before you realize it, he catches you staring as he sits back in the comfy chair, his eyes meeting yours and his face breaking into a cheeky smile. You might as well be drooling.

“What’re you looking at, Mrs. Claus?” he asks, stretching his arms behind his head, his pajama-clad legs spreading wide.

“I just think…” you start, stalking closer to him, eyes trained on his. “That Santa works so hard…” you murmur, sinking onto your knees between his legs. “Maybe he deserves to be properly thanked.”

“Oh—” Eddie gasps when your hand palms over his clothed cock, feeling it stiffen against your touch.

Wasting not even a second you tug his pants down, his hips raising to help you, and you feel your eyes blow wider at the sight of him. You’ll never get tired of seeing his cock — never. The way it leaks for you, the way he gets so hard from the simplest things that you do. You open your mouth, letting the weight of him rest heavy on your tongue. Licking the tip gently, you run your fingers up and down one of his legs.

“Baby,” he sighs, tipping his head back a bit. “What got into you?”

“Jus’ something about watchin’ you play Santa…” you say, kissing the tip of his cock. “You’re so good to us. To me. Wanna worship you for it,” you say softly, blinking up at him.

And God, how could he turn you down?

“The girls, what if they—?”

“Just be quiet, and they won’t,” you say like it’s simple, and he doesn’t have a moment to respond before you’re kissing your way down his shaft.

He’s struck dumb when you take the head into your mouth, suckling on it with pretty lips. One hand reaches up to grip the base of him, your tongue licking his slit. A heavy breath leaves his nose, his lips pressed in a thin line. His fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand gripping the armrest of the chair so tight it could rip.

You glance up at him, licking a long and slow stripe up the underside of his length. His eyes are half-lidded and dazed as he stares down at you, watching in disbelief. You stop teasing, then, taking him as far into your mouth as he’ll go. Your nose brushes the patch of coarse hair that sits at his base, exhaling through your nose as you adjust to the way he presses against the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers when you start to bob your head, trying your very best to keep the wet, slurping sounds to a minimum.

The hand that was gripping his shaft moves down to his balls, squeezing softly as you hollow your cheeks around him. You can hear the way he struggles to quiet the groans that claw their way up his throat, his breathing ragged. His hands reach up, yanking the Santa hat off so his fingers can run through his hair, tangling themselves in it.

“Christ, baby, thatfeelssogood,” he rushes out, voice breathy. “Your mouth is fuckin’ perfect.”

You pull off of him, still rolling the flesh of his heavy balls between your fingers. You make out with the head of his cock, tongue running over it, saliva dripping everywhere. He takes a handful of your hair, pulling gently to make you look up at him.

“Get up here. Right now,” he says. You know he’s trying to be demanding, but he sounds so fucked out it doesn’t quite work. It makes you want him even more.

Following instruction, you climb onto his lap and straddle it, but not before slipping off your pajama pants. With just your underwear separating his cock from your heat, you grind your hips down on him, sucking in a sharp breath when his tip nudges your clit. His strong hands guide your movements, taking control as he peppers kisses on your jawline, making you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Need you inside me, Ed, please,” you croon, your breaths staggered.

“I don’t know, have you been a good girl this year? Do you deserve it?” he taunts, raising his brows at you. His teasing holds no weight, he has every intention of giving it to you, but you still nod.

“Been so good,” you say softly, teeth tugging at his earlobe.

A strangled, breathy sound leaves him before he’s shoving your panties to the side, running a thick finger through your wet folds. Wet is an understatement, honestly. You’re soaked for him, and he’s barely done anything to you.

“God damn, honey,” he growls low in your ear. “You’re so wet.” His teeth nip at your jaw before moving to your neck, his lips planting themselves on the delicate skin and sucking. “Watching me play Santa really got you that hot, huh?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren’t so needy for him you’d roll your eyes. But unfortunately, he’s right.

You whine instead, a featherlight sound that he almost misses through the crackling of the fire. He grips his cock, lining himself up with you as you hover above his lap. You reach down to help him, guiding him into your aching heat as you slowly sink down. You gasp in unison when he parts your walls, each of your mouths hanging open until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Calloused fingers press into your doughy hips, beginning to bounce you on his thick cock. A high-pitched squeak escapes you when you feel him press deep inside, and he instantly covers your mouth with one big palm. He stills his movements.

“Remember when you told me to be quiet? Hm? Now you can’t control yourself?” he whispers hotly in your ear, his breath making your skin prickle.

His hand is removed from your mouth in favor of guiding the roll of your hips once more, keeping you bouncing steadily. You can hear the way his cock glides through your sticky folds, pushing in and pulling out and pushing back in again. His eyes are impossibly dark as they watch you, especially in the dim light, but you can see the lust and adoration burning behind them all the same. You swear you can feel him in every inch of your body as he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly go, making you drop your forehead against his and bite back a moan.

One of his hands pulls the hem of your shirt up in order to expose your breasts to him, his open palm giving the first one a squeeze before rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching. Your back straightens slightly, arching into his touch. He dips his head down, sucking on the nipple his fingers aren’t already toying with. He kisses the soft swells of flesh, nipping and sucking gently while you start to take some control, bouncing yourself on his cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters around a mouthful of your tits, his tongue flicking over the sensitive buds on each one.

He diverts his attention, moving away from your breasts and instead reaching a hand down down down to where your bodies connect. The pad of his thumb swipes over your clit, making a filthy, desperate huff leave your mouth. You’re getting so close, your body desperate for him to bring you to release.

“Eds,” you sigh, rolling your hips slowly on top of him, savoring every single second of this bliss.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks, bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. He smiles at you, soft and sweet as he continues to circle your clit.

“So good,” you breathe, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach grow and grow. “Want you to cum, baby, give it all to me.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” he taunts, leaning forward and catching your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get you pregnant again? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Everything in you screams yes. Your hormones are on overdrive, wanting him to pump you full of his seed and make it stick.

“Fuck, yes, Eddie,” you agree, throwing your head back.

He bucks his hips up, his cock stretching you so deliciously, reaching the deepest parts of you. His lips kiss any part of your skin they can reach as you completely fall apart for him. Your walls clench so tightly around him as you cum, drenching his cock in your arousal. Giving you a few final thrusts, his movements get less precise as he unravels. Soft grunts leave his mouth as he fucks you through his orgasm, ropes of cum painting your walls in spurts. You cling to him, panting as you recover from your high. Gentle hands rub your back, sliding up under your shirt and soothing you with repetitive motions.

“I love you,” you say softly, crossing your eyes to watch as he presses a kiss to your nose. One reaches your lips immediately after; a drawn-out, lingering kiss that you don’t want to ever end.

“I love you, too,” he says, millimeters away from your mouth after he pulls away. You feel it, almost overwhelmingly, in the way he holds you close.

You shift on his lap, letting him pull out of you carefully. Your thighs are sticky with your own arousal and his as it drips out of you, but you don’t want to leave his comforting embrace. The warmth from the fireplace kisses your skin, making you sleepy in Eddie’s arms. You take his left hand in your own, running your thumb over his wedding band, a pleased hum reverberating within you.

He turns, looking at the clock that rests on the mantle. Just after midnight.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“Merry Christmas, handsome,” you coo, reaching up to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“Can we make this a Christmas tradition?” he asks, giving you a cheeky smile as he pinches the fat of your ass.

“Whatever you want, Mr. C,” you laugh, leaning in to kiss him once more.

The night ends with the both of you creeping quietly down the hallway to your bedroom, tangling yourselves beneath warm blankets. Snow falls outside, you can see it through the gap in the curtains as sleep starts to take over your body. Blinking slowly, heavily, you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrap around you, pressing you close to his chest.

In the morning, your girls will wake you with unbridled excitement, ready to see what Santa brought them. But for now, it’s just you and the man himself, dreaming cozy winter dreams.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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yestrday · 2 months

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— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”]

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze.

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ]

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done.

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere alhaitham #yandere kaveh #yandere tighnari #yandere cyno #yester.writes #yester.au — househusband 💍#[noooot quite satisfied w what i did w cyno bc i wanted to explore him beyond being a joker but. sigh. not enough media to give me a read o #that side of him]

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wildemaven · 6 months

Text

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today.

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work.

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now.

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked.

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with.

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.”

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?”

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him.

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over.

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background.

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers.

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations.

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home.

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home.

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders.

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him.

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you.

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes.

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him.

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.”

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him.

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you.

“I guess you have a point.”

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?”

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat.

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine.

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time.

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window.

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening.

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move.

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam.

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction.

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us au #no outbreak!joel miller #TLOU #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

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frracturedjaw · 1 year

Note

Good day/night, author!

I love the details you put in your writing, those tiny details make me foldd

I wanted to request something cause I love your writing, and I wanted to see how you'd write this prompt <3

Slashers with a fem! s/o who sends them suggestive pictures of themselves (referring to the s/o). Could be sliding polaroids under their door/ leaving polaroids for them to see, sending them virtually, etc etc.

Thank you! Have a wonderful day/night, and Happy Holidays!

warnings(s): 🍋, description of s.x acts, reference to female anatomy, blood (only with asa)

a/n: thank god, finally an excuse to be thirsty,, also tysm for the very kind words!! it means a lot to hear from yall :) some of these go further than others, so just drop an ask if you want any of them expanded on.

🔞i check the notes. minors don’t read & don’t interact.

thomas hewitt

* it’s risky business trying to get him the photos without somebody else getting to them first, so you stick them right in the pocket of his apron.

* almost the whole day goes by without so much as a glance from him. he doesn’t check his pockets until the day’s work is finished. but when he does…

* he almost shouts. it catches him entirely off guard. not that he hasn’t thought of you that way, but… taking stuff out of the bedroom is new to him. he’s checking over his shoulders even though nobody really comes into the basement but him.

* he likes it though. he’s a possessive guy. hoyt is always giving him shit, saying he’ll give you what Tommy’s too frigid to provide. this makes his chest thunder.

* you can tell he’s checked the pocket when he next enters the room. his eyes are dark from how huge his pupils have gotten.

* “like them?” you ask allusively, a grin tugging at your features. if you listen close, you can hear the click of the door locking before he’s upon you.

* despite his size, he works smoothly. you’ve reassured him enough by now that he’s confident around you. especially when you’ve shown him vulnerability like that, he can certainly return the favor.

* his shirt and belt go on the floor, and your fingers slide across his scalp when he lays forward between your legs.

* it’s become sort of a ritual for the both of you. he undresses both of you, but you get to take off the mask.

* even in the dimness of the room, you can imagine his blush easily. his cheeks are radiant with heat.

* although he’s usually all about taking his sweet time, this go around, he takes you like a starving man.

* he can’t even be bothered to take your clothes off all the way. two thick fingers, quickly dipped into his mouth, slip past your panties and right into your pussy. his other hand presses you down at the waist, steadying your body against his.

* his hand is large and calloused and scarred, but it works so deftly on your body. in any other case he’d feel guilty for being so greedy, but he needs you too badly right now.

* one heavy hand on your breast, he sucks dark, tender marks into your inner thigh while the pads of his fingers skim teasingly against that one spot that makes your legs go rigid.

* he does that until you’re half sobbing, chest bouncing with each choked breath. he doesn’t tease you like this often, either — he prefers indulging you — but the way you sound crying his name makes him hard as steel.

* “tommy… Tommy, please…” it’s only him that makes you breathy and rushed like this, and he knows it. he relishes in it.

* but he doesn’t keep you waiting forever, don’t worry.

brahms heelshire

* bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have a collection of pictures of you in his attic hideout.

* he might have shown you a few before, just to tease you. there’s a few of you getting dressed/undressed, one or two of you asleep without a top on, and a particularly blurry one that appears to be you with your hand between your legs…

* but he’s absolutely not complaining that you’re contributing. he’s overjoyed, in fact. he takes a particular interest in perverted stuff like this

* he doesn’t spend a ton of time up in the attic since you got together with him, but when he pops up to get something, he notices the addition almost immediately (living in one room for over a decade will do that to you).

* it’s taken in the master bathroom, one of the only rooms he doesn’t have much surveillance on. the tiled walls make it nearly impossible to poke a hole in without taking chunks out that get noticed and repaired immediately.

* he can see a big claw foot tub and a nice wide sink, and one wall with a floor length mirror nearly the size of a door.

* most importantly, is you. naked as dawn, with one leg stretched up on the mirror, and one hand between your legs, revealing your perfect cunt.

* of course, he pulls his dick out immediately. he doesn’t even bother shutting the door to the attic room. just drops to his knees and starts stroking.

* brahms is breathing hard under the mask, barely blinking as he gazes at your glistening pussy and slides one hand up and down his cock, thrusting into his fist.

* he’s loud, too. by the time he’s finished, no matter where you are in the manor, you definitely know. you can’t help but admit, you’re starting to get the appeal in listening to someone else moan your name.

* you’d better get up to the bedroom, though, since he’s ready for a round two with the real thing now.

billy lenz

* similar deal as above, he’s already got some of his own. his selection is much more lewd, though. he’s a little more dedicated to seeing your private moments than Brahms.

* and he’s definitely whipped them out for you, before, too, so you know where he keeps them.

* you’d set the camera on a timer and gotten to work with your favorite toy. in the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to choose a favorite, so you picked a few.

* the first is from behind, and shows the perfect ‘pretty stretch’ he always talks so much about.

* the next is up closer, two of your fingers stringing a trail of lube away from your pussy; you’re confident he’ll like this one.

* the last is of your face, and probably your favorite. tears are hanging from your eyelashes and glittering in the flash, the toy pressed firmly into your mouth. drool dribbles from the corner of your lips and slides deliciously down your chest. you’ve written ‘piggy’ and a heart on the edge of the photo in pink pen.

* the pictures stand out, piled in a neat stack on top of the messy stash in his drawer.

* (there’s also a suspiciously stained pair of your panties in the drawer. you’d been looking for them for ages. you take them back and drop them in the laundry.)

* and just like brahms, you know the moment he finds them. although, he doesn’t bother to even try taking care of his erection by himself. he goes right to you.

* “i’msofuckin’LOVEYOU, sweet-t-t pigGY! sosweetsogoodfor billy, billy l-lovesyouSOmuch, good-d girl, soOOO fuckin’goodforbilly—” his mouth is going a mile a minute up until you kiss him. he can’t help but giggle into it, hands all over you, grabbing, squeezing, pinching. he doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s grinding his dick against your hip.

* “—mh, please, pl-l-lease,” he breaks away from you, gripping your arms hard and blushing even harder.

* “use your words, billy.” you smirk, pressing against him. you can feel him throbbing.

* “nngh,” he whines, but does so anyways. “s-suckmeOFF! ple-ease, please…” he can hardly get the words out, he’s so excited. he throws his head back, giggling, only to smash his mouth against yours again.

* you have to pull his fly down and grip his dick hard to get him to pull away again. his speech devolves into mindless whining and giggling as you drop to your knees.

* he’s not awfully thick, but he is long. it takes a good minute of him thrusting into your throat and you jerking away from him, gagging, before you can get him all the way down.

* you know exactly which buttons to press — he doesn’t waste time making you guess.

* he likes it when you press your nose against his belly and swallow, feeling your throat constrict around him.

* he likes it when you maintain eye contact and flutter your eyelashes at him when he says something you like.

* he especially likes it when you drop your tits out and squeeze them. so much so, in fact, that he finishes down your throat without warning.

* it sends you coughing, but he holds you down until he’s finished, keening and chattering praise in your name.

* when you finally lean back, you’re a mess. you’re teary-eyed, chin and neck coated in slobber.

* he’s still twitching and pulsing even though he’s already gone soft.

* better clean up before he gets any more ideas…

billy loomis + stu macher

* they’ve both had wet dreams about this kind of thing. they’ve probably floated the idea to you once or twice and received coy-but-promising responses.

* they both have phones, but they’re both also suckers for physical media; see also their extensive vhs and disk collections.

* Billy finds them first, and immediately drags stu into the bedroom to look.

* stu’s giggling like a schoolgirl as if you didn’t take them yourself. he sobers up when billy points out that you’ve written their initials on your inner thighs in what seems to be sharpie.

* depending on if you’re home or not, they might just jerk off then and there. they’re impatient like that.

* if you are home, however, they slide up next to you on the couch with these shit-eating grins on their faces.

* “didn’t know you had a side gig doing mags.” billy teases.

* “now i can tell everyone i’m dating a pornstar.” stu snickers.

* “except tatum.” you remind him, which only makes him laugh more.

* “c’mon, sweet cheeks,” billy leans you over into stu’s lap, skimming his fingers under your shirt. “give us a private dance.”

asa emory

* the camera had been a gift from him. you can’t be sure if he bought it or stole it off a body, but you’re grateful nonetheless. (who knows what would happen if you weren’t)

* usually you only take photos of things around the hotel. his exhibits, interesting bugs you found crawling around, maybe a shot or two of the sky through a window. he always takes the pictures away. you’re confident he keeps them all somewhere. a small part of you hopes the somewhere is his home.

* at one point — after a particularly long night with your fingers inside yourself, wishing they were his — you decide to take photos of something else. the lighting is dismal and you don’t have anything terribly flattering to wear, but you make it work.

* you’re rather pleased with what you end up with. some five or so photos of you on your knees, eyes wide and doe-like, gazing up as if looking to a master.

* you decide to leave them out for him to find.

* when you next hear the door unbolt, your heart leaps into your chest. you hold statue-still as he locks it behind him, glances around the room, sees the photos. you see something in his expression change as he leafs through them. it’s impossible to read his expression with the mask on, but you’d like to imagine it’s admiration. maybe disgust. maybe want. maybe all of it.

* he sets the photos down where he found them and crosses the room towards you. he’s entirely unhurried. doubt writhes in your gut. your eyes dart to his belt, the knife hooked into it.

* you twitch when he grips your jaw and tilts your head back to look at the ceiling, but don’t flinch away.

* he leans close. you don’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t ever get this close. you’re sure he can hear your blood thumping in your veins. heat and pressure rise in your skull.

* he breathes in deeply. his lips part. his teeth scrape lightly against the skin of your jugular — you didn’t think he would be able to, with the mask on — then press in. his jaw eases down on the soft flesh of your throat slowly, all the way until you feel his teeth grind against something solid. you think you might be suffocating. you think he might break your trachea.

* a strangled cry slips out of you. you tense even tighter, ready for him to do it.

* instead, he releases with a self-satisfied hum. it might be closer to a growl. you aren’t sure, being preoccupied with the blood rising in the little ring of indentations where his teeth split your skin.

* it stings when he sucks the blood from the wound, but the pain startles you less than his body appearing atop yours. he’s gripping your arms hard like you might try to run. instead, you find yourself clinging to him, legs hooking around his hips; which earns you a chuckle that sounds nearly genuine.

* he’s coaxing out weak sobs and tears for so long, you begin to wonder if he intends to do anything else. slowly, though, he’s bunching up your clothes and peeling away layers. he alternates between biting and lavishing attention on your skin, splitting and bruising the skin with his incisors before smoothing his cool hands across each plane and curve of your body to disperse the sharp pain.

* when he reaches for your panties, your fear spikes again. the sensation of his teeth skimming over the tender flesh of your inner thighs makes you tense up. the reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

* he curls his arms around your thighs, not breaking eye contact. you inhale sharply when he captures your clit between his teeth. he hasn’t even bitten down, and yet your body’s already prickling in expectation.

* then his tongue slithers out. it takes every ounce of your self control not to lock your legs around his head. you can feel the hot, wet muscle pressing against your hole. your insides burn with lust as he pushes it inside you, tasting you. it drags inside you, writhing and contorting deliciously.

* each reaction earns you an approving hum. to you, it’s praise. to him, it’s positive reinforcement. habit building. another exercise to shape you.

* he wouldn’t admit it, but he craves you the same way. his love is grotesque and cruel, but something about him enjoys pleasuring you, too.

jesse cromeans

* cute, that you think he doesn’t already have his own series of homemade pornos featuring you and him.

* he’d never refuse submissions, though. he has a secret fondness for watching the security footage of his penthouse from when you’re alone in the bedroom, anyways.

* you’ll have left them on his pillow, the glove box in his car, maybe even at his work desk. you’re not worried about anyone else seeing them, since if they did, they’d have a day to live, maybe two, tops.

* he’ll tuck them into his wallet for later and go about his business, maybe send you a sly text, something along the lines of what you should be wearing when he gets home.

* you’re checking your hair and kicking your legs when his car pulls in. you’re up against the window, waving and looking down at him as he gets out. when he looks up at you, you receive only a signed ‘naughty’ in greeting.

* he takes his time at the front door, tucking his shoes into the closet and hanging his coat as if you’re not wearing his favorite pair of silvery-gray lingerie, kneeled right in front of him.

* “my knees are going to bruise at this rate, you know.” you admonish, and the look you receive could turn you to stone.

* “good.”

* “guess i’ve learned my lesson: never sending nudes to you again,” you say playfully. that’s all it takes for him to yank you off the ground and press you against the wall.

* you hook your legs around his hips on instinct and can immediately feel his hard cock through his slacks.

* it takes a moment for him to relocate his tie from his neck to your eyes, but it’s worth it when you hear the mask clatter to the floor.

* “is this a punishment, or a treat?” you wonder aloud, grinding yourself against his crotch as he slides off your panties. his teeth sink into your shoulder at the same moment his fingers find your clit. both, you decide.

bo sinclair

* he is definitely 100% a fan. he’s standing in your doorway grinning the moment he finds them.

* “these are something special, sweetpea.” he drawls, smirking at you. even though it was your idea in the first place, you can’t help but blush. there’s something about his complete and utter assuredness in himself right now that makes you feel especially small.

* “i can’t help but want to recreate a few of these.” of course he’s going to rail you then and there. what else could the photos be but an invitation?

* hardly even takes the time to get your clothes off. there’ll be plenty of time for that later. just tugs your pants down off your hips and spits between your legs, sliding his fingers through your folds only once or twice before pulling down his fly and pressing his cock against you.

* you must have a dumb look on your face — you hadn’t even realized your mouth is open — because he feels the need to pause and lave his thumb across your tongue. “hungry for somethin’?” you can muster only a graceless ‘uh-huh,’ the weeping head of his cock still pulsing against you.

* “good.” then there’s that stretch. every single time, you have a moment where it feels like he won’t fit. you can feel exactly how tight you are around him. every thick, winding vein along the length of him. you only come back to yourself upon feeling his body press flush against yours.

* he fucks like an animal. his breath is ragged and hot across your skin, occasionally broken to bite and suck at your breasts. your ass and thighs have already gone numb from his skin clapping against yours. you can only press your forehead against him and scream for him.

* oh, he’s keeping the photos, too. he’ll even ask for more. he’s sticking them up around the garage, his room, the rear view of his truck. teases you if you complain about it.

vincent sinclair

* nearly creams his pants. i mean it.

* it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, but this is really something else. with pictures, he’s less embarrassed about staring. he doesn’t need to worry about accidentally making you uncomfortable.

* with vincent, you know he appreciates every detail. every curve and plane of your body, the way you’ve got one of his sweaters pulled up just far enough to reveal your slit. he’s nearly drooling.

* “hey,” you’re stepping languidly down the basement stairs — still in his sweater — catching him right as he finds them. he yanks down his shirt over his crotch as if it would hide anything

* you can’t help but grin at him and nudge his hands away so you can straddle his lap, stretching your arms past his shoulders and pushing your chest up to his face.

* he’s kind of frozen in shock, but it’s not hard to tell he’s losing his mind for you, either.

* eventually his eyes raise to meet yours and he tips back the mask to kiss you.

* “i like it when you wear that.”

og myers

* he’s perfectly aware of what you’re trying to do. he knows you want to get him worked up so he’ll fuck you to pieces. and being the person he is, he does the exact opposite.

* sticks the photos in the breast pocket of his coveralls and goes on his merry way.

* days pass. you wonder if he’s even found the photos you left.

* (in the meantime, you’re resisting the urge to touch yourself by just thiiis much. it’s torturous. you’re not sure you want to wait for him to make the first move, anymore.)

* you test the waters by finding reasons to get into his personal space. first it’s just your hand against his. then, you’re up against his shoulder. eventually, you’re perched up on his lap and he’s barely acknowledged that you’re even here.

* “michael,” you hum, face hidden against his neck. he only grunts in response.

* you can’t help but suspect he’s doing this on purpose.

* “i missed you today.” grunt.

* “i’ve been thinking about you.” hmm.

* “michael, i want you.” mhm.

* finally, you flatten your hands against his cheeks and force him to meet your eyes.

* “mikey,” you whine. you don’t mind begging, but this is just excessive. “please, fuck me.”

* silence. you’re about to give up and stomp out of the room to go find your hitachi wand or something when his hand shoots up to your throat.

* in one quick motion, he forces you underneath him on the bed.

* it’s his turn to tease, now.

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

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Ooh, what if Price/Ghost/Gaz/Laswell came across their childhood best friend? Reuniting with reader who was there for them through thick and thin, until they joined the military and lost contact 🙏

I've been reading/re-reading some of your works!! They're so good! Also, I'm sorry those teenagers were pricks to you, hope you have some better days soon!

Hello! I have to say, I'm genuinely surprised anyone reads my rambles in the tags, I didn't think anyone would, but thank you! You don't know how much I appreciate it! Today was already a much better day, which is why I decided to write and post two requests today! This is a lovely request, very nice! Love me some platonic stuff as well! Sometimes all you need is a good friend by your side!

Price, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell Come Across their Childhood Best Friend

Price: He actually thinks about you from time to time, more often than he’d like to admit. You were a good person in his eyes, always there for him no matter what he went through, which is something he could appreciate. His childhood wasn’t particularly bad, but he had some days where he would have loved to simply throw in the towel, which is normal, though. Price was a rowdy guy when he was young, so you likely either went along with some of his ideas or were kind enough to talk him out of them. Either way, he appreciated having you around, so seeing you again would be quite the surprise, he didn’t think he ever would again. If he’s on a mission, then the talk will be kept short, but afterwards he’ll make sure to seek you out again, catch up a bit and ask you how you’ve been. Price didn’t expect to have missed you this much, but he only realized that once he saw you. You’ll either be going to one of the cafes you used to visit nearby, or maybe sit down on a park bench and maybe eat some sandwiches together, just like you used to during the good old times. Since you’d likely be around his age, so roughly 37-38, you’d have a lot to tell. Roughly 22 years you need to catch up on. He’s willing to talk to you, tell you about his career, how he's been doing, about the people he’s met and how he’s feeling. Considering this much time has passed, there’s a good chance you’ve both mellowed out quite a bit, but it isn’t unpleasant, you’re both mature people now. He likes hearing about everything you’ve accomplished, it’s like you became a new person during all those years. It’s so lovely to him, he sort of can’t believe it. Whether it’s a coincidence, or maybe you sought him out, it doesn’t matter, spending time with you again brings back all those memories he thought he had since forgotten about. He laughs, he smiles, he frowns. He’s a bit more expressive with you, but really wants to reminisce about the good old times. Even so, he hopes to be able to see you again more often, so you’ll likely exchange numbers. This time he tries to make sure to not lose contact with you and will text you every once in a while.

Gaz: When he was a child, Gaz was a lot calmer than he is today, a very quiet kid. He had always been a good boy, a gift in the eyes of many, but he wasn’t as active a child as one would imagine. Ergo he didn’t have very many friends until he became older either, but he was loyal to the few he did have. You were one of them. As you slowly started to grow apart, he started to miss you, but didn’t want to bother you either, as much as he would have loved to do so. So I’m sure you can imagine the surprise on his face when he found you at the mall the two of you would hang out in during rainy days. Gaz has become more confident, so he’d immediately walk up to you once he recognises you and start talking. Like Price, he’d be pleasantly surprised to just see you in such a mundane place, but won’t question it. Or complain about it either. In fact, if you’re not carrying anything heavy, he’d be the one to suggest going out to eat or drink something. Again, either a small and quiet cafe or a small restaurant. Maybe you’d go to a place you liked when you were kids, if it’s still open. Regardless, it’d be hard to get him to shut up with how excited he is to have you around. It’s a calm kind of excitement, but he’s happy, and that’s what’s important. It’s very likely that he’ll pay for your food, even if you insist he shouldn’t, but it’s not like he has any other use for his money. Chatting with him about the good old times is very sweet, he likes to bring up all the good things. But eventually, he’ll thank you for everything you’ve done for him and how happy he was to have you as a friend. Considering there were very few people who tried to get to know him, he was quite lonely, but you fixed that. You made everything better. From the pain on his knee when he fell as you gave him a band-aid, to the pain in his heart when the other children ridiculed him. Like Price, he’ll ask you if you want his number so you could continue to keep in contact with each other. He knows it’ll likely never be the same again, but he can pretend everything is as good as it used to be back when he was young. He’d love to spend time with you again.

Ghost: This man has had one of the worst childhoods imaginable. He was abused by his father, and the only friends he had aside from you were his mother and his brother. Barely anyone was kind towards him or accepted him considering he had always been the weird kid. No one but you wanted to spend time with him. Needless to say, Ghost had taken a liking to you when he was younger. You spent your time with him, you even defended him when some of the other kids ridiculed him. And now, 12 years later, he finds you running after a coin you accidentally dropped on the ground, bumping into him as you did so. He’d be wide eyed at first, a bit quiet as well. Once you left he never would have thought he’d ever find someone like you again, but here you were, just as quiet and surprised to see him. Ghost would pick up the coin for you and ask you how you’ve been. It had been a while. Although he’s not usually one to smile, especially not in public, you could see him faintly do so. He’s become a quiet man, so he won’t be talking too much about everything, especially not everything that happened after he joined the military, but he’s more than willing to talk to you about other matters. His life has become better over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean he isn't scarred still. He’ll offer you a walk to just about anywhere, really, even if the final destination will always end up being one of the places you used to hang out in as children. An abandoned house, a park, a mall. Manchester is a fairly large city, so there’s much to see. It would be a bit rough to catch up with him entirely, but he loves to hear about everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve become such a mature person, it warms his heart to see how far you’ve come in life. Back then, when everything was so bleak, when neither of you thought you’d see your 28th birthdays, everything was different. But now, you’re smiling at him as you’re drinking your milkshake. You seem to be better off, and so is he. It makes him nostalgic to see all of this, but he’s happy. Ghost will offer you to come to his home if you want. Even now, he still loves you dearly as a friend and couldn’t be happier about the fact he’s found you again by chance.

Laswell: When she was young she was a healthy mix of rowdy and good. While she never caused much trouble, she did stand up for herself when she needed to. However, this alone was enough to get the attention of some awful people. People either liked her or hated her, there usually was no inbetween for them. Some people did try to bully her, but it never ended well since she would fight for herself, plus she had some good friends who would do the same for her. However, none of them could compare to you, as you were her best friend. All her joys she would celebrate with you, and all of her sadness she would share with you. Back then, things were simpler, something small meant the end of the world, but you always had each other’s backs. Laswell tries to not think about you too much since you slowly drifting apart is quite painful to her. As she grew older, she learned to live with the pain and it didn’t bother her as much. Still, she was very happy when you were sending her a message after all this time. She may have been at work, but responded to you immediately, having missed you just as much as you missed her. Once you meet up it’s evident you’ve both grown a lot older. Laswell has been working for the CIA since her twenties, so it’s been almost thirty years. You have a lot to catch up on, but you take your time, eating at a fancy restaurant and spending hours there, laughing at everything that’s happened. Laswell would show you photos of all the places she’s visited during her downtime. She’s seen almost the entire world, some of it with her wife, some of it without her. Although she doesn’t usually tell people she’s married, to another woman too, she knows you’re a safe person, you’ve always accepted her as she was. Considering how happy you looked when you saw her wife, she continued to tell you about the world. But you get your chance to tell her about everything that’s happened to you as well. If the conversation goes especially well, Laswell might invite you to a few outings every once in a while, after you’ve met up a few more times. Plus you get to meet her wife eventually as well, which is a real privilege. Considering how much she loves her and wants to protect her, not many know about her. It’ll be fun either way since you get to make more memories together again.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #seeing that someone read my rambles actually really cheered me up yesterdy so thank you for that!#this request was really sweet. I have a friend who I miss so dearly even now #I still dream of her from time to time. she was my best friend but I never was hers #Sometimes I wish I had the guts to text her but I'm awkward and can't hold a conversation to save my life so I'll have to live like that #oh well! it happens unfortunately! wish it didn't though!#anyway as much as I love to romance the lads and the lasses there's something so wholesome about friendship too!#especially a really good one where you can goof around and have fun and give each other sweet gifts!#Love friendship! friendships are fun! I'm glad I get to write platonic stuff every once in a while as well!#I'm not a romantic person at all irl but I can appreciate a good friendship!#thank you for this request it was very cool and epic!

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writingseaslugs · 10 months

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Octavinelle: When You're Sick

Favorite dorm here we go! This was fun to write and hmmmm I really wanna be taken care of by the Octrio. They can be good at it, I swear! As always, the intro is the same as Heartlabyul and Savanaclaw, so feel free to skip it if you’ve already read those parts.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Octavinelle: When You’re Sick

The worst thing to ever happen to you while attending Night Raven College had to be, hands down, getting sick. You were alone in the dorm with only ghosts and Grim to keep you company, and as much as you loved them, they couldn’t take care of you when you became sick. This meant you had to make do and hope that everything was alright. Normally if you were under the weather, you’d just suck it up and go to class so as to not worry anyone. This time however, that wasn’t an option.

You woke up with every muscle in your body feeling sore and aching with even the slightest movement. Your stomach churned something fearsome and you had a runny nose and cough to boot. You had no idea what illness you had fallen to. Having so many symptoms…you could only assume it was the flu or something akin to that.

Still, there was no way you were making it to class like this. So begrudgingly you told Grim you weren’t feeling good and needed to rest, and to go to class and get your homework so you could do it later. The demon cat was grumpy about not having his henchman, but eventually gave in, leaving you alone to rest in your room and hope that whatever you had would go away.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is going to be concerned the moment he hears from Floyd and Jade that you’re home sick. He knows you tend to take care of others and neglect your own health, at least in the time he’s known you at the college, so he’s automatically assuming the worst. So he’s going to excuse himself from his own work at the lounge, pack up all his paperwork, and head over to your dorm. He needs to make sure his best customer, and sometimes best worker when you were strapped for cash, was okay and not actually dying, as Floyd so eloquently put it.

He’s not half bad at taking care of others oddly enough, though he is lacking in experience. It’s one of the many things he studied in his free time, so he at least knows what he’s doing. He’ll be calling the nurse anyway just to check in on you and make sure it’s nothing too serious. Once he gets that out of the way, he’s going to do his best in following directions and making sure you recover in the most timely manner possible.

Thankfully he does care for you, so he won’t be making any comments about how helping you out will come with a price later, like picking up shifts at the lounge. In fact, he’s very gentle with you and asks questions in a softer voice than normal. He even orders food from the lounge to be delivered so you can have something warm to eat that’s also delicious. He will be doing work on the side, especially the moment you fall asleep, so don’t be surprised if you wake up to pages turning.

Once you’re better it’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He’ll be in a chipper mood as well, something the twins will notice right away. If you bring up wanting to repay him, he’ll just inform you that if he ever falls sick, you’ll be the one nursing him back to health. A good compromise in the end, and something you were already planning on doing for him.

Jade Leech

Jade won’t have too much of a reaction to finding out that you’re sick, other than a frown being placed on his lips. He finds out through Floyd when he’s complaining that his Shrimpy couldn’t come out and have fun since they were dying at home from some horrible, debilitating disease. Jade knows his brother is playing things up, but this does give Jade the little push he needs to go in and visit you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully Jade is one of the more competent boys when it comes to taking care of others. He’s already figured out exactly what was wrong with you and is grabbing some of the best medication from Sam’s, since the stuff the nurse has is “mediocre at best”. Since Jade is normally the one having to take care of Floyd when he’s sick, he knows all the things to do if you happen to be stubborn, especially with taking medication.

He’s just very soft with you, showing you a genuine smile as you eat the soup he brings you, and playing with your hair. He doesn’t need to do much when taking care of you, trusting the medication to do all the work, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to want to leave your side. Just expect Floyd to be paying you a visit as well, even if you’re asleep, and waking you up. Where you have one twin, chances are you have both of them, but it’s all good since they’re both amazing at making you smile. Jade stays even after Floyd gets bored and heads back though, and he’s without a doubt skipping his shift at the lounge that night.

Jade is in a noticeably better mood once you’re better, but don’t be fooled. He’s going to be using this against you in an attempt to have you join him on one of his hikes. Saying something about the fresh air and moving your body will be good for you. He won’t force you, but he’s definitely going to be playing up that he’s so hurt if you decline. Just go with him, if you get tired the string bean of a man can and will carry you up a mountain.

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn't even know how to react when he discovers you’re sick. He’s both mad and sad, all at the same time. People are going to be parting like the red sea the moment they see him walking down the hall with a scowl on his face. His shrimpy couldn’t possibly be sick, it wasn’t fair. He had so much planned to do with you today and now you couldn’t even leave your bed? He won’t stand for this and after pouting for half the day, Jade comments that he can simply visit you and maybe help you feel better. There goes the switch and suddenly Floyd is in an amazing mood as he ditches the rest of his classes and work just to go and visit you.

Floyd isn’t half bad with taking care of others if he’s in the mood to do it. He is the one who takes care of Jade when he’s sick (which normally Jade gets sick right after Floyd). He’s not going to be talking to you in a super gentle voice, or babying you unless he finds it fun to do so. If you happen to get flustered by him doing so, then he’ll be more inclined to literally spoon feed you.

Floyd is just going to raid your medicine cabinets rather than going out anywhere, since it’s just the flu he assumes it’s not too bad. He’s also using your kitchen to cook you some meals and bringing them to you. He’ll be smiling brightly when you’re eating the food he made, and whenever you take the medicine. He feels so accomplished knowing that you’re getting better due to his efforts. There is a good chance he won’t be spending the entire day by your bed, since he’ll get bored, but he will be there on and off the entire time you’re sick.

You’re getting a good, healthy squeeze the moment you’re all better. Floyd is just over the moon and already telling you about all the things he has planned now that you’re no longer dying. Be nice and humor him, he has been going through a lot of emotions the entire time you’ve been sick. He just managed not to show you, but anytime he left the dorm, he was back to being grumpy and irritable, to suddenly depressed and closed off. He was really only smiling when taking care of you, so he deserves to squeeze you for a good while now that you’re no longer sick.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Azul x Reader #Jade Leech #Jade Leech x Reader #Jade x Reader #Floyd Leech #Floyd Leech x Reader #Floyd x Reader

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morallyinept · 4 months

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STRUNG UP - A Dave York Christmas One Shot

Summary: You and your husband Dave are decorating the tree for a surprise in the morning for your girls. However, you get testy with him, and Dave finds an inventive way to keep you in check.

Pairing: Dave York x Wife!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader has hair long enough to pull.)

Word Count: 3.5K

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/triggers - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks)/consensual restraint/husband & wife dynamics/very mild Daddy kink/Dave comes with his own warning.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Love me some angry Dave. Oof. 🥵

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

“Are you really going to moan all the way through this, baby?”

His tone is clipped as he stares at you through a mask of stony lines on his smoothly shaved face.

The knot of Christmas lights inside his hands are wriggly; bulging like a serpent trying to coil itself around his arm, and if that isn’t enough to test his patience working through this mess, he now has to endure your sniping and muttering away under your breath at him too.

Like you have been, all day.

It’s the Holly Jolly time of year when all he wants to do is utterly stab someone in the neck. Dave’s fingers twitch at the mere thought of it.

The most wonderful time of the year where predicted arguments always flare up over what gifts to get the girls, how many gifts to buy the girls.

Fisticuffs ensue about the gift wrap not being cut in a neat, straight line and the bow doesn’t match.

‘Shall we get a turkey or a salmon this year, Dave?’

‘I don’t like salmon.’

'Since when?'

'For the last 43 years of my life.'

'Oh. Then we’ll get a turkey.’

'Baby. The turkey is too big for the oven.'

‘Then we’ll get a small one.’

'But you always cook it until it’s dry...’

The time of year when all Dave really wants to do is get absolutely shitfaced to avoid making small talk with your father, and only have to stress over whether or not he’s going to make it to the bathroom to puke after one to many chasers, or whether it will just land over his dress shoes instead in a brown, lumpy puddle.

But no. He has to endure your temper tantrums and sulks, and watch as you shit over everything festive, and in return his Christmas mood is certainly darkening.

You’ve both planned to completely transform the lounge into a Christmas wonderland for the girls whilst they're asleep upstairs, and it isn’t exactly going according to plan.

First, Dave smacked the back of his head going up into the attic for the tree this afternoon and it still smarts now.

And you’ve done nothing but whinge all day about Amazon sending Molly’s stocking with her name spelt wrong on the stitching.

‘Dolly? We have a Dolly York now? Sounds like what you'd name a dog. Dolly.'

‘Baby, we have plenty of time to order another one.’

'That’s not the point, Dave. You expect some certain care when ordering a personalised gift. I’ve a good mind to call them and complain.’

'You already are…’

You throw a glare at him that leaves a black eye, and go back to pulling tinsel out of the box you’ve made him lug down from the attic, slighlty concussed.

The tree isn’t even fully put together yet he acknowledges; it’s still in pieces around the floor from where you had dragged it out of the box, and that grates on him also.

“You haven’t put it up yet, so why are you bothering with the decorations already?” Dave remarks sourly.

You glance briefly at the tree pieces as if they’ve offended you and carry on rummaging around inside the box.

“The star is missing.” You moan absentmindedly.

“No, it isn’t.”

“It’s not in the box here.”

“It has to be. It’s where I threw all that shit last year.” Dave sighs; his thumbs loop through the sting of lights as he pulls some out of the twisted chunk of wire and bulbs.

“Oh yeah? Then where is it, smartass?” You put to him with a scowl.

Dave rolls his eyes and stands, throwing the puzzle of lights to the floor and stomps over to the box.

“You know, if I find this star, I’m going to shove it up your ass!” He warns you with a frowny snarl. You sense he means it as well.

“I’m going shove it up your ass...” You mock, impersonating his voice.

He mutters obscenely to himself, grinding his teeth and swooping his large hands inside the box.

He tosses tinsel and baubles around like the choppy seas, and begins to panic inwardly when he can’t see any trace of it. It isn’t in there.

Shit.

“Told you,” you say, proudly.

Dave looks about the room, which resembles a band of elves that have thrown up glitter and stardust all around it, whilst you’re still throwing shade up in his face.

“Well, you look mighty fucking stupid now, baby. It’s there, in the fucking tinsel pile.” Dave says, reaching for it.

He then shoves it into your hand and snarls at you darkly.

He goes back to detangling the lights and you’re silent for a little while as you finally put the tree together.

You step back to look at it when it’s finally standing.

“It’s a little on the slant.” Dave remarks.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes. It is.”

“You need glasses.” You say, with a pout.

“I’m telling you, it’s wonky. If you want a wonky tree, then fine.” He huffs out, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ah fuck!” You step backwards - to examine the tree’s vertical straightness for yourself - and crush a wayward, escaped bauble with your foot.

“Careful, you’ll cut yourself!” Dave mutters as you kick away the broken pieces.

He’s managed to get a string of the lights spread out in front of him that are tangle-free at long last.

“Too late,” you huff, and plonk yourself down on the floor, pulling off your sock and examining the underside of your sole.

He comes up to you and has a look for himself, stroking the curve of your foot with his thick fingers when he informs you it’s just a light graze.

He tickles your arch gently and you throw another glare at him.

“Don’t.” You warn, knocking his hand away.

“You’re so fucking pissy today,” Dave says to you pouting; that bottom lip of his inflated and shiny as he mocks you with an unsympathetic growl.

You snatch your foot away from him and stand up with a deep set frown.

“Is it your time of the month or something?” Dave questions, with knitted eyebrows.

“Fuck you, asshole.” You snip back to him.

Dave sighs out and shakes his head. A petulant argument is not what he wants to endure anymore. He’s had enough of your crap. To Hell with you and your fucking wonky-ass tree.

“Fuck this shit; you can decorate the tree your damn self.” He decides that he isn’t going to entertain your drama anymore. Your moaning and grumbling all day has grated away on his last nerve.

“Yeah, well I don’t need your help anyway!” You yell after him.

“Keep it down, you’ll wake the girls up.” He seethes. He disappears out of the lounge like a hurricane.

You sigh out in a massive huff and pick up the string of Christmas lights and plug them into the wall to test the bulbs aren’t blown.

How the hell do Christmas lights get tangled when they’ve been sitting in a box all year, answer me that? I mean, you roll them up carefully and neatly and then what, do they just move on their own volition or something the minute your damned back is turned? Quick, she’s not looking - tangle-tangle... Fuck!

You begin unwinding and weaving them whilst grinding on your teeth as you try in vain to separate them, but seemingly knotting them up the further you go, and undoing all of Dave’s work with them so far.

Meanwhile, Dave can hear you cursing away to yourself in the kitchen as he makes himself a strong coffee, feeling it best to stay out of your way or he’ll hang you with some tinsel if you carry on like this.

He reaches into the cupboard for a mug, sighing.

He can feel how wrangled and wrought his shoulders are, craning his neck from side to side as it cracks, realising that your shitty mood has now spread and infected him, and that shit isn’t going to fly.

“Oh, Dave, you’ve tangled them up even worse than they were!”

He hears you berating him from the lounge, and he slams down his coffee mug on the counter top so hard, the bottom of it chips.

He forgets about the coffee maker, grinding his teeth when you huff out - a little louder and with added dramatics - from inside the lounge.

He marches straight in there, his mouth a hard, thin line and makes a beeline right for the lights. He tears them from your hands so fast they whip around his legs with the intense speed.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You hiss at him, all snarls and scrunched up face.

He wraps the twinkling light string around his palm a few times as he stares down at you with hard, dark eyes.

"Get up." He growls.

"No."

Dave then yanks you up onto your feet as you yelp. “Turn around.” He instructs with a no-nonsense attitude.

You shake your head and fold your arms in defiance.

“I said, turn a-fucking-round!” He hisses at you and pushes you against the sofa, shunting you forward so you’re bent over the arm of it.

Your arms go to your face to stop your fall, but he wrenches one back and you get a face full of cushion anyway.

“Dave, what the-”

You feel him wrap the light string around your wrist before he reaches for your other, quickly and skillfully, as you try to resist.

He snatches it back, his fingers tight around you. You feel him crush you against the couch with his pelvis, holding you in place, and can equally feel how hard he is against your behind.

Dave pulls back your other arm and wraps the lights around, lashing your wrists together with them tightly.

“Untie me!” You muffle at him. “I’m fucking serious, Dave!”

You feel his hand slide over your mouth, squeezing your cheeks as you twist.

“I am sick to death of your fucking whining and moaning today, baby.” Dave says ignoring you, and you can tell he’s pissed off - majorly pissed off.

His usual jaunty, laid back mood was shit all over by your petulant ranting and sulking over something or other that he has no idea about, and frankly doesn’t care how or why it's bloomed in the first place.

Perhaps you’d just woken up that way, perhaps you’re PMSing like a bitch - hell, maybe he's even done something to fuck you off - it doesn’t matter.

It just needs to stop and it needs to stop now.

And he knows a way to get it out of your system.

He unbuckles his belt, you can hear the metallic chink of it, and he pulls down your leggings and panties revealing your ass and pussy sticking up at him.

Despite your protests, he can see how slick and shiny you are as it seeps from your lips. He zones in on your weeping cunt, like looking through the periscope of his MK14, and locks onto his target.

“Dave,” you whine.

"Dave," he impersonates. He spreads your cheeks to get a better look. Your pussy clenches, your slick glistens at him.

You feel him run the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in you.

"Dave, I... mmm, please..."

“Shut the fuck up.” He snaps to you and then shoves his cock deep inside you without any warning whatsoever.

“OH!” You cry out as he shunts, jolting your whole body forward further over the couch as he thrusts inside.

He fills you wholly; your cunt sucking him him as he grunts when he breaks through and bottoms out instantly. Your gasp is ragged, stolen from your throat.

You’re so wet, dripping; he knew you would be despite the angry front you'd presented to him - the moment he'd asserted his dominance over you, you were utterly frothing - you always were when Daddy ran the show.

“Oh fuck!” You groan out, as he snaps his hips into you in a brutal pace.

He holds onto the lights wrapped around your wrists, feeling the warmth ebb from them inside his palm. They make little, glowy silhouettes on your butt cheeks in brightly different colours as he ploughs into your sopping pussy.

“Ah yes!” You mewl as he fucks you hard.

"There we go," Dave grunts.

Your slick is more frothy around his cock each time he pulls out, seeing it shiny and bubbling around his shaft. Squelching over him, and it's a pleasant sensation that he can watch and enjoy all day.

He growls out in satisfaction at it.

An aggressive ballet ensues of him pulling you about as he drives himself deeper into you; your hands tied behind your back with those colourful lights glittering in blues, reds and oranges as he fucks you hard in the lounge amongst the clutter of Christmas baubles and streams of tinsel.

An explosion of festive carnage around you both as he goes to town on that pussy, fucking the bad mood, that has lingered over your head like a storm cloud all day, right out of you.

You can only stand there, bent over, and take it from your husband.

“Oh shit, Dave! Shit!” You pant out as your body shudders; hair sticking to your face, and you can feel it tangling inside your mouth as you whine out.

Your face is pushed further into the sofa cushions as he grunts and growls behind you moving at warp speed, muscular thighs slapping agaisnt your ass cheeks like someone in the room is clapping.

“What, nothing to say now, hmm?” Dave hisses in your ear, bending over you as his cock drives deeper inside your wet, fleshy lips.

"You've been running your mouth all day and now you're suddenly speechless, baby?"

He sweeps the hair out of your face, his mouth running the length of your jaw and he tugs at your ear lobe with his teeth. His breath is bouncing in the back of his throat as he puffs like he’s going for his morning run with each thrust he hammers into you.

You gasp out; breath and voice literally taken away by him ploughing so deeply into your pussy.

God, you’re always so tight around his cock, and the feeling of it blows his mind each time he enters you. It always feels so new and exciting, no matter how many times you’ve fucked since you’d got together all those years ago.

Even pushing out two of his kids hadn’t loosened you up that much, clearly you do your kegels. But taking you like this - punishing you with his cock - is the way to go about it today. No time for Mr Nice Guy.

“Love this tight pussy squeezing around my cock, baby,” he sighs out, standing back upright.

He grips a hold of your arms in the Christmas lights and pulls against them as he shunts into you.

He keeps you bent over and unable to move or repel against him; you’re just simply stuck there being fucked by him, exactly how he wants.

It’s a rough, hard fucking and all you can do is take it as you’re trussed up with the lights, face smooshed into the couch cushions whilst he does it and trying not to suffocate.

Teeth biting into your tongue to mute your whines and moans, but they still flow out of you anyway.

Dave wrenches you backwards so you’re standing upright a little, and steps with you so he can bend you over in the middle of the lounge without anything to support you now, just the lights keeping you anchored in his grip.

His hand slides up your front and grips around your throat, pushing your head up to him as he fucks you from behind.

"That's it, baby. Take my fucking cock."

Your eyes try to find him, darting into the back of your head as his fingers squeeze tightly around your jaw.

“Aaaahhh...” You cry out as he tunnels in deeper, pulling you back onto his dick and the hard, hammering sound of him inside you echoes around the room.

When he’s had enough of you like that, he lets you go, stretching out your back whilst he pulls his slacks off fully.

You clock him tugging off his sweater with a massive, angry and swollen boner protruding out of his pelvis.

Holy shit…

“Lay down on the floor. Put your arms above your head.” Dave instructs in an agitated growl and you comply, albeit with a brewing grin.

“Good, keep them there like that.” He warns and he slides your leggings off your legs completely.

“Shall I call you Daddy as well?” You tease, smirking at him whilst he glares at you.

Oh, he’s so hot when he’s mad...

“Don’t fucking push it,” Dave simply says as he slams back into you without warning again and you gasp; a loud, guttural moan emanating from the pits of your stomach.

“But then, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh fuck!” You wail out, your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head, whites on show like you’ve been possessed as he works those hips back and forth like a machine gun.

“Yeah, who’s your fucking Daddy now, hmm?” Dave simply remarks with a slick grin as he jolts into you hard. “You want Daddy to fuck you some more?” He says in a condescending voice.

“Mmm, Dave! God yes...” You groan.

“Maybe this will shut you up now, hmm? All you needed was a good fucking, baby.”

“Yes... yes!”

“Maybe I should just leave you like this all Christmas... Hang you up on the tree!” He roars as he fucks you faster and like he’s trying to climb inside your body.

“Oh God!” You wail around him as your pussy starts leaking all over his cock again.

“Look at me when I make you come!” He demands, pulling your jaw towards him with his fingers and thumb clamping around it and forcing you to face him.

He feels you contract and jerk, your thighs shake and your neck cranes as your whole body tenses up before eventually letting go, and you soon flop under him like jelly, panting.

“Dave!” You rumble, your body shaking and all the tension that had surmounted all morning explodes out of you as the wrangled tension uncoils itself and you let it all go fully. “Fuuuccckkk!”

"That's it, baby. Like that. Come all over Daddy's cock..."

He fucks you exactly how it should be done; hard, and without any relenting or mercy. This man, your husband, can make your pussy sing, make it trib and hold the high notes without taking a beat.

“Oh, oh...”

“This is what happens when you're a moany bitch, baby.” He pants into your face, sweat forming in the line of his hair on his forehead.

“By that logic, I shall never stop moaning...” You chime out, hair splayed all over the floor and tangled in tinsel as you tense and shake.

Chuckling evilly, he rides you through your orgasm, only pulling out of your twitching pussy when he’s ready to shoot his load.

And he knows exactly where that’s going to go.

“Open your fucking whiny-ass mouth.” Dave instructs as he begins pumping himself, shuffling up your body on his knees either side of you on the carpet until he’s almost sat on your chest.

His cock is above your face as he pumps hard and fast. The slick sound of your wetness making it slap inside his palm.

You open up, tongue hanging out, and waiting for him to fill it.

He pumps out and grips a hold on his thigh, angling his cock towards your mouth as he comes, and it splashes across your lips and tongue where you swallow down what flows into your mouth.

“Fuck!” Dave grits as he watches you take it all, all of that glossy, thick cream and then lick the reddened tip of his cock, sucking on the end of it gently to get to the last of it.

He feels the tip of your tongue furrow into the slit of him and it makes him shudder.

“Mmm...” You groan, licking your lips and smirking up at him; your hands still trussed up in the lights above your head on the floor, and some of his come splashed across your cheeks.

Dave stands up, fully naked as the day he was made, except for his reindeer Christmas socks, as you still lay there on the floor, somewhat paralysed and utterly blissed out.

“Can you untie me before I get third degree burns from these lights?” You ask, sitting upright slowly.

Your hair looks like you've already been electrocuted - it's all over the place.

Dave pulls his sweater over his head and glances down at you somewhat indifferently. “Depends, are you going quit your whining now?” He asks you as he reaches for his slacks.

You nod and smile thinly at him. “I’ll try.”

He pads over and kneels down, running his thumb across your cheek, scooping his load onto it and holding it out for you. You suck it clean and you're convinced you can hear a tiny groan at the back of his throat.

Weaving the light string from around your wrists, he’s dismayed to find it tangled again in knots.

“For fuck’s sake...” He mutters as he plonks his butt on the floor and begins the arduous task of detangling them again.

You stand up once the feeling returns to your legs, and dress. You then retreat into the kitchen.

You come back in a few minutes later with a steaming hot coffee for him, and place it beside him on the floor.

“Peace offering.” You say, stepping over his long legs.

“Thank you, darling.” Dave mutters.

“See, I’m not a complete bitch after all,” you smirk.

“We’ll see how the next hour or so goes, shall we?” Dave remarks looking up at you with the bundle of glowy lights in his palms.

“Maybe I’ll do it on purpose, you know so Daddy can tie me up and punish me again...” you peep, grinning.

You hear Dave snicker through a snort, and look down at him to see his piercing, dark eyes stare you out over the rim of his coffee cup.

You reach up and put the star on top of the slightly askew Christmas tree proudly. “Perfect.”

“It’s still wonky.” He replies.

"Don't start." You scold, reaching for the tinsel.

Dave doesn’t say anything else about it when you pick up a bauble and simply toss it at his head.

He notes that bold move down mentally. Daddy will make you pay for that later.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #dave york x reader #pedro pascal characters #dave york the equalizer 2 #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york x female reader #dave york x wife!reader #christmas stories #jett's writing

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marvelous-slut · 6 months

Text

idk how i keep writing about our boy happy, like i have so many WIPs and two of them are chibs & juice, literally almost done and my brain said “but how about we write one for happy AND finish it all in one day.” like ?? idk guys he has a choke hold over me and i’m not even complaining i love his ass 🫶🏻 anyways here’s to my happy fans i hope y’all enjoy some smut. this also gets no title bc my brain ain’t working enough for that right now, so sorry xx

SMUT! 18+ ONLY my friends, if you’re younger than 18 please exit left! lots of smut, didn’t proof read

“we’re gonna head to the porn studio boys, gotta talk some business with Luann.” jax says, hoping on his bike. tig stands with happy as he throws his hands up.

“come on man, we’re standing right here and you’re just gonna rub that in our faces.?” jax smirks and straps his helmet on.

“never said you guys couldn’t tag along, i know how much the two of you like pussy.” tig needs to hear no more as he walks over to his bike and hops on. happy decides to join them as he does in-fact love pussy and he definitely loves porn.

_________

immediately when entering Luann’s porn studio, tig is gone. he’s looking around the studio, he’s looking at the half naked women strutting around, he finally stops when he sees a girl on girl scene being filmed. not even a fire could take his eyes off this action. happy follows, looking around himself. he sees spots Luann speaking with a familiar face.

“holy shit.” he mutters out, he recognizes your face and body from anywhere. he’d never admit he had a favorite porn star, he did enjoy most of what he watched, but you in fact got him off quicker and made him harder than any other woman he’d watched on screen. he swears he’s seen every film you’ve had, girl on girl, straight, threesomes, but his favorites were your solos. he notices the tight royal blue dress hugging your body and he feels himself growing harder. once he sees you break away from Luann he decides to take his chances. he watches you wrap a bottle of water around his your lips, he comes over and grabs a bottle as well.

“hey.” he says, feeling like he can hardly speak, you turn around and smile at him.

“hey.” you say back to him, noticing the leather that matches your new business partners SAMCRO. he stares at you for a moment, unsure of what else to say, you decide to break the silence. “cat got your tongue?” you ask him, he puts a head on the back of his head.

“uh. no. you just look familiar.” he says, happy doesn’t usually feel nervous around anyone especially women but he felt like he was meeting a big time celebrity which he guessed that was somewhat accurate.

“which movies your favorite baby?” you ask, running a hand down his leather. he smirks, looking you up and down.

“i prefer the solos.” you smile at him, usually the answer you got from men was girl on girl. you grab his hand, leading him to the back room where you and your girls got ready. thankfully most of them were sniffing around the SAMCRO members, giving them a good time. once the two of you were in the room, you kiss him on the lips roughly.

he runs a hand up to your ass and grasps it, before you know it you feel your back against the wall. you pull away from the kiss to help him take off his kutte, as he’s doing this he also sheds the shirt he wore under. you notice all the tattoos and his muscular body, feeling your body heat up. you’d slept with plenty of men and women, you would think being on camera would take some embarrassment away from off camera sex, but not with this man. at this moment you realize you didn’t even get his name.

you pull him by the waist band of his jeans and drop to the floor to your knees, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. once his boxers come off, your eyes grow and a loud “wow” leaves your lips. he smirks at hearing this, he would never not feel proud hearing about how big his dick was but he was ecstatic to hear it come from his favorite porn stars lips. he feels himself twitch as you wrap your lips around him. he’s met with a hand wrapping around him as well, even tho you were some what of an expert at the matter, you weren’t about to embarrass yourself a choke on this man. he notices your hair getting in the way and decides to hold it up for you, his fist wrapping tightly around it. you pull him out of your mouth, running your tongue from the base to his head. he moans out at this action, he pulls your hair as a signal to come up to him.

before you know it, you’re laying out on the couch. happy lifts your dress up, revealing that you have no panties on underneath.

“shit girl. no panties?” he asks, you pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breast. you feel your nipples become hard from the cold air.

“makes it easier for moments like these.” he grins, pulling you to the edge of the couch, he slides himself into you without warning. you let out a moan, you were already soaking wet. usually it took a little lube for the shoots, but this man did something that no one else had done in a long time. he’s thrusting slowly, but steady.

“god damn.” he mutters out, running his hand to your breast. “pussy is even better in person than then on camera. you know how many times i’ve fantasied about this?” he hears you let out the oh so familiar moans that before he’d only heard in porn. you lift your head up and grin.

“is it all you ever dreamed of?” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your face, kissing him sloppily and wiping away his sweat with your hand. he can feel the tops of your nails sticking into his neck. “shit. even better than that.” he says, thrusting himself into you harder than before. your moans mimicked what he has heard many times before, but it seemed more enjoyable this time around, much more authentic.

you wiggle yourself out of the corner of the couch and manage to get him to lay on his back, happy was taken back. he was used to doggy style or being in control in missionary, he couldn’t even remember the last time a woman rode him. you ease down onto his cock, “fuck.” he let’s out, he can’t believe what’s happening, it still doesn’t feel real. he feels like a teenage boy again fucking someone for the first time. you grind yourself on him, taking his hands and placing them on your hips to help guide you.

“how many times have you thought of this baby?” you ask, he digs his nails into the side of your hips, making you gasp in pleasure.

“you don’t even know.” you feel pressure building inside of you, ready to explode. “you sure do know how to work a man’s fucking cock.” the words send you over the edge, happy feels you clenching around him.

“oh my god!” you scream out, he watches your face, although he remembers plenty of the orgasms you’d had in your movies, he’d never seen one like this before. you continue riding him, finishing off your orgasm. you feel him go to push you off so he can cum himself, but you hold him down with your hands still grinding onto him.

“oh now, don’t think you didn’t do all that work to not get to cum inside of me.” you say, moving your hands to his face.

“fuck!” he let’s out, he releases into you and enjoys every second of it. no second thoughts. once the both of you have finished, you hop off him and grab the closest towel that had your initials printed onto it, specially made for you of course as you were one of Luann’s biggest earners. you throw one to happy as well, he stands up, cleaning himself off. you throw on a bright pink robe, throw your hair up into a bun and walk over to him.

“you know, i never did catch your name.”

“happy.” he says, you chuckle for a second until you realize he’s being serious.

“cute, i like it. we should do this again happy.” you say, grabbing your water and taking off to the restroom. he finished cleaning himself off and gives himself a pat on the back, realizing now he can have the real deal instead of his screen.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy smut #happy lowman #happy lowman soa #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman x you #happy lowman smut #happy lowman imagine

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bloodblanks · 7 days

Text

the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — chapter i.

As the daughter of a moderately wealthy businessman, you lived a comfortable but solitary life. You never thought to leave your peaceful refuge, not until one of your father’s associates—who was also your only friend—made an unexpectedly tempting offer.

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Power presents itself in many different forms. Most often, those with power are thought to possess strength, intelligence, wealth, or status. However, you were not exceptionally talented in any of the above. Instead, you found yourself gifted with something much less conventional—charisma.

—

“Pantalone!” You opened the door, beaming at the raven haired man who stood before you. “Lovely seeing you here today.” You stepped back and held the door for him.

“Y/N,” Pantalone returned the smile, thick eyelashes fluttering as his eyes crinkled with joy. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He walked inside before pausing, waiting for you to push the dense mahogany door into place, making sure it locked shut. Your home was in a rather secluded location where few people passed by—much less dare intrude. Secrecy was invaluable to all of your father’s guests.

“Unfortunately,” you began, “my father is running late today, which I apologize for. But please do come in and make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Your father was a busy man with a full schedule, one he went out of his way to readjust for the impromptu meeting request. It would have been unreasonable to expect perfect punctuality, and the apology wasn’t necessary.

Still, you had one job, and it was to be nice.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Pantalone replied. “Your generous hospitality more than compensates for it.”

While being cordial was more of a chore with the often unpleasant and impatient businessmen your father associated with, you found Pantalone’s company an effortless task.

You weren’t sure of the exact reasons behind it, but your home was often used as a place for meetings and negotiations relating to your father’s work. You weren’t present for the discussions themselves, but you did greet and welcome every guest—something your dad was not fond of doing himself.

For someone who worked a job where conversation was important, talking was not one of your father’s strengths. Though he managed just fine when it came to business, small talk and pleasantries were burdensome activities for him, which is why you handled them instead.

It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed talking about the weather which never deviated from cold, or listening to middle aged men complain about joint pain, but you disliked it significantly less than your dad did. If anything, you had a tendency to avoid matters of actual significance, preferring your meaningless exchanges over accountability.

Pantalone was just another one of your father’s many associates, but he visibly stood out from the rest. You didn’t know much about them, but you were confident that everyone you’ve greeted was in some way or another, a powerful dignitary.

But they were no Harbinger.

That fact alone was enough to separate Pantalone from every other person you’ve ever interacted with throughout your approximately two decades of lifespan. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew well enough that his wealth and power surpassed that of all your father’s clientele combined.

But that wasn’t what truly made him different.

Pantalone was a striking contrast to your father’s other associate; not just because he was a Harbinger, but rather he was the sole person you could consider a friend.

You hadn’t bothered making new friends after moving to Snezhnaya. There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Although confidentiality could qualify, you found yourself either occupied with your own hobbies or keeping your father company when he was actually home and not busy with work. Anything you desired was delivered directly to your residence, so you had no need to venture into the city and make small talk with the shopkeepers.

This meant your interactions were limited to your father and his associates, all of whom were as pruned and grey as him. The only exception was Pantalone, and though you didn’t know exactly how old he was—it would be rude to ask—he didn’t seem significantly older than you, both in appearance and mannerisms. At the very least, he didn’t possess the wrinkles and bitterness the others did.

At some point, you began looking forward to your interactions, which both preceded and succeeded Pantalone’s business meetings with your dad. While you still maintained an air of professionalism with you, your amity went beyond mere pleasantries.

As you led him down the wide hallways and cavernous rooms, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been nagging at you since yesterday.

“Pantalone,” you broke the silence, “may I ask a question?”

“Of course, dear,” he replied.

“Today’s a Monday,” you stated, “and you were just here last Tuesday.” For as long as you remembered, Pantalone had a very specific schedule. Once every other week, every Tuesday, he’d visit. As far as you knew, never had he strayed from that schedule—not until now.

“Ah, as observant as ever, Y/N,” Pantalone remarked.

“And on such short notice too...” you continued, letting your words trail off before asking him directly, “Is something the matter?”

You stopped in front of your father’s study, turning the doorknob and allowing Pantalone in, before you let the door leisurely shut on its own behind you both.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just that business can be unpredictable at times—I’m sure you understand.” His tone was as carefree and relaxed as ever, but you were certain this was no trivial matter. However, it wasn’t your business, so you set aside your curiosity and didn’t push any further.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “I was just a bit worried that something was up. I’m glad to hear that everything’s fine.”

‘Worried’ was an exaggeration. While you did care about Pantalone, you had no reason to fret over his well being. It was unlikely that anyone or anything could pose a serious threat to him, ever—he was a Harbinger. Perhaps it was disingenuous for you to feign concern, but you thought it was a polite sentiment regardless.

All of your dad’s meetings, with all of his associates, were held in this room. It was furnished with this intent in mind; a well-lit room with a coffee table flanked by two sofas near the centre, encircled by a desk, a few china cabinets, and most importantly, a kitchenette.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Y/N.” A teasing remark, as you should have expected. You watched as Pantalone sat down on the sofa with a smirk.

“Do I seem that heartless to you?” you prodded back.

“Quite the opposite. If anything, you have too much heart.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly, Pantalone’s reply catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to answer so sincerely.

Despite your familiarity with conversation and flattery, you were usually the one to give compliments, not receive them.

“You’re flattering me. I’m not doing anything special,” you brushed it off awkwardly. You quickly turned towards the kitchenette to escape the topic. “Earl grey tea with cream and two sugar cubes?”

“Why, I’m flattered that you remember how I take my tea,” Pantalone said. You filled the kettle, waiting for the water to boil as you took out a teacup and saucer from the cabinet above you, along with tea leaves and an infuser. You opened the refrigerator beside you, retrieving a glass bottle of cream.

You weren’t sure how or when exactly it started, but you always had a fondness for tea. The shrubs themselves, the processing of the leaves, the plethora of varieties and tastes, the simple act of brewing tea—you adored it all. When you still lived in Fontaine, where the weather was warmer and vegetation was abundant, you would often tend to your imported Chenyu shrubs and curate the leaves yourself; something Snezhnaya’s harsh, frigid climate didn’t allow for.

Though you missed the extensiveness of your tea hobby in Fontaine, you found other ways to keep yourself occupied. The time you would have otherwise spent on picking leaves was now dedicated to baking. It was something your mother taught you from an early age, a craft you now spent time perfecting. After all, freshly baked goods were a perfect accompaniment to tea, and your father’s clients appreciated the assortment of delicacies.

It was an excuse to bake batches of pastries that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to finish if anything, but it was something everyone was happy with. The guests enjoyed your confectioneries, your father evaded vapid chit chat, and you baked to your heart’s content.

“I’ve made you tea every other week, ever since we’ve moved here,” you pointed out. “So about two and a half years. It’d be awfully rude if I didn’t remember your preferences by now.”

You earned a soft chuckle from Pantalone.

“Well, now I’m curious. What else do you remember about me?” he asked, the question making you gulp.

You did not have a good memory, and you were especially uncomfortable with being put on the spot, your brain oftentimes turning blank, forcing you to blurt out any nonsense to try and salvage whatever situation you were being put in. You tried to think of something to say so it wouldn’t be obvious that you couldn’t recall; that would be rude.

“Only your darkest secrets.” You fumbled with placing the dried leaves in the infuser.

“So you know her name then?” he interrogated, and of course you didn’t.

“Of course,” you declared with utmost confidence. “Full name, date of birth, medical records, everything.” You knew you were just digging yourself a deeper pit, but you had just poured the water and the tea wasn’t done steeping yet.

“And what about her death certificate?” he continued. You stirred the tea rapidly, pouring in just the right amount of cream alongside two sugar cubes, before picking it up and serving it with the plate of madeleines you had baked earlier.

“That’s included in the medical records.” You placed the tea down on the coffee table a bit too hard. You made sure to place the plate down more gently, as if to absolve yourself of embarrassment. “Here’s your tea. And of course, some madeleines I baked this morning.”

You sat down on the sofa across from him, awaiting his expression as he brought the teacup to his lips, sipping the beverage with elegance.

“It appears you really are as observant as ever,” he smiled with visible satisfaction.

“I’m observant when people are interesting,” you noted, relieved that the conversation had finally shifted.

“Is that so?” Pantalone put down the teacup. “Y/N, what about me do you find interesting?”

There were a plethora of things you found interesting about him, and you wondered if some of them would be too intrusive or direct to point out given his status, but promptly discarded the consideration.

“Well, for starters,” you said, “you’re a Harbinger.”

“Oh my,” Pantalone spoke with feigned surprise. “I nearly forgot!” He reached towards the plate, picking up one of your madeleines and taking a bite. You watched his face hungrily for validation, awaiting his judgement of your madeleines. Even though your confectioneries were never worse than satisfactory, you often liked to try new variations or entirely different recipes, taking note of any feedback from guests to further improve your skills.

“Wonderful baking as always, Y/N.” Pantalone’s words seemed to align with the pleased expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling proud of yourself.

“You know,” Pantalone started, bringing your attention back to the conversation, “such status can be quite cumbersome. People behave rather differently around you. It becomes hard to tell when such pleasantries and favours are coming from a place of genuine kindness, or somewhere else.”

The atmosphere suddenly dropped to a more solemn tone, startling you.

“Be that as it may, I’ve always felt at ease in your company. Contrary to popular opinion... us Harbingers aren’t all that different from everyone else, and I feel refreshingly ordinary in your presence.”

You listened to him attentively, musing over his sentences in your head to carefully formulate a response.

“Refreshingly ordinary...” you muttered. “I didn’t expect to hear that. If anything, you’re quite special to me. Regardless, I’m happy to hear that I’ve been pleasant company for you. The feeling is mutual.”

You finished speaking, a wistful smile on your face as you glanced downwards, the focus slipping from your gaze. While you and Pantalone had many conversations over the years, they primarily consisted of playful banter and idle chatter. Rarely would you be as pensive as you were now, and while sentimentality usually made you uncomfortable, you found yourself not minding it right now. Perhaps you were more lonely than you had originally considered, but you realized your words held more truth than expected.

Pantalone was someone special to you. There used to be others, too. When you still lived in Fontaine, you had close friends; people you deeply valued and cared for. But distance does not make the heart grow fonder. Distance simply meant the space between, and the space from Snezhnaya to Fontaine would parallel the growing disconnect between you and the ones you used to hold dear.

Everything in Teyvat had a limit to its elasticity, tangible or not. Things can only be stretched so far before the tension eventually causes it to sever. Emotional connection was no exception to that. Despite your agreements to continue writing one another and keep in contact, eventually the letters became fewer and longer between. The last time you had received a letter was about seven months ago.

People separate. People move on. It was only natural, and you had come to accept it. You had no idea what your former friends were doing now, but you were probably nothing more than a passing thought in their heads every once in a blue moon.

You didn’t often reminisce about them, either. But when you did, you would naturally ponder the idea of making new friends. Even though it would be wise to make an effort, you didn’t want to. Meeting new people, getting to know them, becoming as close to them as you were with your former friends—it was exhausting just to think about. You didn’t want to bother yourself with something so tedious.

But since Pantalone had been routinely visiting for the past few years, your attachment to him inevitably grew without you even realizing it.

Your rumination was interrupted by the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Oh,” you said, “it seems like my father’s—”

“—Oh, Lord Pantalone, please forgive the delay!” The door flung wide open, your father rushing into the room. “Such tardiness in the face of a Harbinger is unacceptable and—”

“—Please, it’s all right, F/N,” Pantalone tried to calm your very much frantic father. “I was enjoying a lovely conversation over tea with your daughter just now and—”

“—No, no, no! This will not do!” your father declared. “You must be impossibly busy with work! We should discuss business as soon as possible—Y/N, you may take your leave now while we discuss urgent matters!”

You were halfway through getting up when Pantalone spoke.

“Well, actually, F/N, the reason I requested this meeting was because I wanted to speak with you regarding your daughter.”

What?

Your head snapped towards Pantalone, the rest of your body still frozen in an awkward motion between standing and sitting, your eyes wide with shock and mild horror.

You weren’t sure if you had heard him right or not. But judging by the similarly surprised look on your dad’s face, you likely heard him correctly.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Pantalone as attractive. His elegantly styled black hair was smooth and silky—or at least it appeared so, you never ran your fingers through it—and his skin was radiant, fair as porcelain, his amethyst irises embellished with full sets of ebony lashes, sitting behind intricate silver glasses that framed his gracefully poised face just right.

However, you had never thought of anything beyond that. Not only were you unsure about how old he was—he could be twice your age, for Archons’s sakes—he was also your dad’s business associate, and you weren’t sure how your dad would feel about that, though you supposed you’d find out soon.

“Uh,” your dad stumbled over his own words, “Lord Pantalone... are you sure you want to, uh, discuss such matters with Y/N present?”

“Why, of course, F/N,” Pantalone replied, completely nonchalant. Your eyes darted between him and your father, the two of them wearing completely opposite expressions.

“Uhh,” your dad gibbered awkwardly, “are you sure you want to discuss such matters with me present?” You could see that he, too, was looking back and forth at the both of you in a futile attempt to grasp the situation. He was presumably contemplating the prospect of anything having happened between the two of you. The thought alone was enough to fluster you, and you were just thinking of how to explain that no, you were not and had not been sleeping with his business partner, when Pantalone spoke again.

“Oh, Archons, no, it’s nothing like that, please don’t misunderstand!” he exclaimed, his statement sending you into a brand new state of confusion. “I merely want your daughter to spy on Dottore.”

“I’m sorry, what?” you interjected, evident disbelief in your voice. You didn’t need to look at your dad to know he was even more disturbed than you, considering how he was at a loss for words.

“You see, it has recently come to my attention that Dottore is plotting something rather unfavourable to the Tsaritsa,” Pantalone elaborated, though you weren’t sure whether his explanation was helping or worsening the situation. “As a Harbinger, it is my duty to ensure her safety, and as Dottore’s closest associate, I’m in a most advantageous position to do so. Alas, I am but one man, so some assistance would be incredibly helpful.”

While the initial misconception was already difficult to process, the clarification was even more incomprehensible. You were stunned, unable to formulate any coherent thoughts until your dad managed to snap out of his stupor.

“You want my daughter to spy on Il Dottore? Forgive me, Lord Pantalone, but are you daft? How the hell is she supposed to do that? She is a child!” Despite its irrelevance to the situation, you couldn’t help a spark of irritation rising up at his words. You scowled, but put your annoyance aside for now, for there were more pressing matters at hand. Your father was becoming agitated, so you made an attempt to assuage the tension.

“...It’s fine,” you said, straightening up as you turned towards the Harbinger. “Pantalone, could you please elaborate?”

“Well, you see, I need someone whom I know and trust, that Dottore doesn’t know, but can come to trust,” he asserted. “I need someone new, unassuming, but not entirely unfamiliar. Someone who can keep a secret and find a secret. Who better than the daughter of the magnificent F/N?”

From an outside perspective, it was easy to make the assumption that you were knowingly assisting your father in keeping his clandestine activities concealed. Most people likely thought that, but it’d be incorrect.

Truthfully, your role in your father’s work was limited to greeting associates and serving them tea, along with any freshly baked goods you had made. Of course, you knew that your father wasn’t the most noble of men, considering his clientele—the Harbinger on your sofa being a perfect example—but that was the extent of your knowledge, and you preferred to keep it that way. You knew it made you apathetically recreant, but it was much easier to stay unaware and turn a blind eye to his questionable doings. You would keep yourself uninvolved in his business, hiding under your security blanket of willful ignorance.

The exact shelter that Pantalone was trying to coax you out of.

“Well, okay, sure, but—” your dad tried to protest.

“—And as a token of my gratitude,” Pantalone furthered,

“I would bring M/N back to life.”

next chapter soon... any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

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demxters · 7 months

Text

—Insufferable

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

summary: the one where ace (not so subtly) ogles jake in public.

wc: 974

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), shirtless boys and an innuendo

catch up with jake and ace here!

a/n: here's a little pre!relationship jake and ace that nobody asked for. i wasn't going to post this at first, but decided to since it's been a minute

<3 dedicated to @blue-aconite who read it first and is the reason i continue writing these stories

»»————- ♠︎ ————-««

“This counts as kidnapping, you know.”

Natasha sends you a coy grin from beside you. “It’s not kidnapping if you came with me willingly.”

“Because you told me we were going to the thrift store! Not the boys’ stupid car wash thing,” you huff like a child in the passenger’s seat with your arms crossed over your chest and everything.

“It’s not stupid. It’s for charity.” Nat shrugs.

“Which charity is that again?” You roll your eyes.

“I… don’t remember. But Javy invited us and we like Javy, right?”

“I guess,” you grumble.

It’s her turn to roll her eyes at your antics as she pulls into the lower campus parking lot. Natasha follows the poorly designed signs into the wash line. “That’s the spirit, Ace,” she pinches your cheek playfully, making you swat at her hand.

You continue to complain about all the other ways you could’ve been spending your Saturday while Natasha ignores you by turning up the radio. Between her rendition of Faith Hill’s This Kiss and your thirty second power nap, a knock at your window makes your heart jump and your eyes open wide.

Putting down your window, you’re met with a shirtless Javy Machado who’s wearing the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. “Hey! You made it!”

It was hard not to smile at his genuine excitement of seeing you both. “Against my will,” you say despite the growing amusement on your features. “Nat told me she was taking me to lunch and thrifting. She left out the part of the car wash between those two activities.”

Javy plants his hands on his hips. “At least you got some free lunch,” he pauses before looking over your shoulder at Natasha. “Right?”

You ramble on about how Nat owes you more than just lunch after the stunt she’s pulled, not noticing the flustered look on your best friend’s face as she unabashedly admires Javy from the driver’s seat.

Neither Javy nor Natasha pay attention to your words as they get caught in one another’s gaze.

It’s only when Bradley, also shirtless, walks up to the car and claps Javy on the back that the two of them snap out of their little stupor.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Ace. I thought you said these fraternity events were a load of baloney.” Bradley slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so you could see the amused look in his eyes.

“Again, I was kidnapped,” you raise your brows at him.

“I did not kidnap you!” Natasha chides.

Ignoring her remark, you eye Javy and Bradley with a wrinkle of your nose. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought this was for the Boys Without Clothes charity.”

“Haha,” Bradley laughs dryly. Spotting his friend who’s finishing up with the car in front of you, he cups his hands over his mouth with a sly grin. “Hey, Jake! Look who it is!”

The mention of Jake Seresin makes your heart rate increase and your cheeks warm up. It’s not like you didn’t know he was going to be here, of course he was, he was in this fraternity. You just didn’t think you’d have to acknowledge him at all. With all his flaunting and showboating, you would have thought he would be too busy to stop and say hi to you and Natasha, yet here he was making his way over to her car with that overconfident smirk on his face.

Just like his buddies, he is also shirtless and proud. The sight of him irks you, pulling an immediate scowl on your lips. However, you can’t deny that he looked good. His skin, sheened with sweat, defined the figure that he clearly worked hard to take care of. He was a sight to be looked at and he knew it. You hated that you knew it too.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

That cocky, Texas drawl sets the tips of your ears on fire. You flit your gaze up and, just as you suspected, he was standing with that bothersome smile on his face. You tear your eyes away from him in favor of looking up to the sky. “In your dreams, Seresin.”

“Only every night,” he winks.

Your mouth falls slack at his words and you hate that your brain chose this moment to short circuit. With a huff of annoyance, you go back to crossing your arms across your chest and falling back against your seat. “You are insufferable.”

Jake bites back quickly. “Insufferable. That’s a new one.”

Your attention has been so attuned to Jake that you didn’t realize the other boys have already started on Natasha’s car.

He leans his arm against the top of the car door and lowers himself so he is eye to eye with you. You freeze, suddenly feeling hyper aware of his presence. Even with the sweat covering his body he still smelled like cologne and the mint chewing gum he carries around in his pocket. There’s barely an inch of space amongst you as he takes his lower lip between his teeth. “At least it’s better than the other things you like to call me.”

“Oh, get a room, you two.” Natasha’s voice pulls you from Jake’s trance.

Jake laughs, pushing off the car to grab a sponge from the bucket behind him. “Close your window, Ace. I don’t want you getting all wet.”

You barely move, fuming with irritation and another feeling you can’t quite place that forms in the pit of your stomach. Nat rolls your window up as she guffaws at your stunned expression.

“Close your mouth too. You’re gonna catch flies.”

You whip around to look at Natasha who is clutching her stomach from her silent fits of laughter.

Covering your face with your hands, you slouch lower into your seat. “Shut up, Nat.”

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#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x f!reader #college!au #frat!jake seresin x reader #hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe #demxters writing

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 4

I actually got it up today, holy crap. Today has been so wild I wasn’t sure it was going to happen. Also thank you to @chaoticlovingdreamer and @yellowdevilkitten about the cramps. I am feeling better now.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part Seven: Hand holding

Once you’ve established that he likes you back, the first step is hand holding. You aren’t necessarily dating at this point. Though you could be. For same sex couples this will have to be discreet and sneaky, but for straight couples this can be used as a way to declare your couple status.

“I hate that you can’t hold hands with Steve in public,” Max said. “It’s stupid.”

Eddie cocked his head ruefully. “It is what it is. Some day it won’t be like this, but for now, we do what we can.”

“Still stupid.”

It was movie night sleepover. It was something that all of them did once in a while. And by them it meant all of them. All thirteen of them. Steve’s basement was perfect for it. They could all stretch out and still have tons of space. Not that they did that. They tended to puppy pile in smaller groups.

El, Max, Erica, and Lucas was one pile. Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy were another. Mike, Dustin, and Will were another. Which left Eddie, Robin, and Steve as the remaining pile.

But that was a problem for future Eddie. Current Eddie was content on the sofa with Steve sitting next to him, their bodies pressed together in a seem from shoulder to knee.

Robin was on the other side of Steve curled up under his arm and Eddie was fine with sharing at the moment.

The hardest part of the night was deciding on a movie they all wanted to watch. There was always someone that didn’t want to watch whatever it was they decided on. So Eddie and Steve came up with the idea of ranked voting. They would grab five movies and everyone would list them in the order they wanted to watch them in and whichever one got the most votes at number one was the one they watched first.

Tonight they were watching The Dark Crystal. When the beetles came on, chittering above the Skekis Robin flinched and buried her head into his shoulder.

“I thought this was a kids’ show!” she whined to Steve.

“Come on,” Dustin said. “They aren’t that scary. They’re just giant bugs.”

Eddie kicked him in the thigh. “Everybody has different things they’re scared of, we don’t mock people for that.”

“I wasn’t mocking,” Dustin defended. “I just don’t think they’re scary.”

Fizgig started wailing and Eddie jumped back. “What the fuck! Why does it have so many teeth?!” Then a warm hand took his and he looked down at the joined hands and back up to Steve.

“Wait a damn minute!” Max cried. “You’re telling me that the first time you guys held hands Steve initiated it?”

Eddie grinned. “I was so proud. Though, he thought he was just being a good friend at the time. Remember this is oblivious jockus. Even though it was pretty clear he liked me back, he wasn’t reading the signs that I liked him.”

“But he still reached out to you?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled softly at him and Eddie’s heart just melted. Eddie gave Steve’s hand a squeeze, but instead of letting go like he suspected Steve thought he would do, Eddie held on to it for the rest of the movie.

When the movie ended, Eddie wasn’t the only with sniffles from the sacrifices of Kyra and Fizgig.

“But that won’t work,” Dustin said.

“What won’t work, bud?” Eddie asked as he dried his eyes on his sleeve.

“You can’t rebuild an entire race with just two members,” Dustin complained. “Because otherwise you get inbreeding and trust me when I say that’s gross and not just from moral stand point but a medical one, too.”

Max rolled her eyes. “They aren’t trying to rebuild the species. It’s just a love story.”

Dustin grumbled, “Well, it’s a stupid one.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and shook their heads.

Steve dislodged himself from Robin, reluctantly letting go of Eddie’s hand. “All right, gremlins, get your bed stuff and set it up downstairs. You don’t have to go to sleep right away but I want you at least in your sleeping bags.”

There was some grumbling from the younger kids but they all packed up and went downstairs, Jonathan and Nancy going down with them to make sure they didn’t start fighting over spots.

The remaining adults started cleaning up the mess that only thirteen people can make.

Robin got bored about half way through and wandered downstairs to see what was happening there.

Argyle tilted his head. “Does she always do that?”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and shrugged.

“Not always,” Steve said. “Her mind just goes a million miles an hour and sometimes cleaning fulfills that need and other times not. I guess today was a not.”

Argyle nodded sagely. “Do you think she would benefit from the purple flower?”

By now they were aware that that was a brand of weed Argyle had brought over from California.

“She doesn’t like smoking,” Eddie said with a grimace.

Argyle lit up. “Brownies, bro! I bet she’d love my brownies.”

Steve chuckled. “You are more than welcome to ask. Just know she might still say no.”

Argyle smiled his dopey smile. “Never offended by that.”

They finished cleaning and went back downstairs to find that the usual piles were divided differently.

El, Max, and Nancy were doing each other’s nails. While Argyle, Robin and Jonathan were discussing weed in a corner. Mike and Will were snuggled up together as were Erica, Lucas, and Dustin.

“You know I always wondered about that night,” Eddie said. “Why you and Lucas weren’t snuggled up like you usually were.”

Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s the whole reason for this little guide I’m forcing myself to sit through.”

“What happened?”

She put her head in her hands. “I thought we were on again and he did not.”

“He is an oblivious jock, though right?” Eddie grimaced.

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize how much until that night,” Max said with a small whine of frustration. “He said that it was great how we had remained friends after Vecna and then asked me if I was dating anyone at the time.”

Eddie rubbed his eye. “Are you serious?”

“As Vecna.”

“Ouch.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me, big boy,” Eddie said looking around the room at all the different groups. When Steve didn’t reply, he backtracked, “Unless you want to hang out with Robin and the stoner boys?”

Steve’s head snapped up. “No, no. She looks like she’s having fun. I’d be happy to be your puppy partner.”

Eddie groaned. “Can you not say it like that?”

“Snuggle buddy?” Steve suggested. “Snug bugs? Puddle pals?”

Eddie shoved him playfully. “Knock it off, man.”

“Oh,” Steve said with a wicked gleam. “I see how it is. Maybe I will join one of the other piles. You think Mike will mind if I join him and Will?”

Eddie laughed. “Only if you want to be murdered in your sleep.”

Steve winked. “So I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie bit his lip nervously. “I have an idea!” He walked over to the girls.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted warmly. “May I inquire if you have any black polish among your bounteous plethora of polishes?”

El lit up. “Yes, I have three kinds in fact.” She went digging for them. “I have glitter midnight, death becomes her, and blackest black.”

She held them up for him to see. He looked at each one carefully and chose blackest black.

“Now, my fairest maiden,” Eddie said. “I need a blue for Stevie.”

Steve, Nancy and Max all stared at him in shock.

“You’re going to paint Steve’s nails?” Max asked.

Eddie nodded. “And he’s going to paint mine.”

El giggled. “That’s sooo cute. I have just the color.” She opened a small drawer in her kit and pulled out a sparkling dark blue.

Eddie kissed her forehead. “It’s perfect Supergirl.”

El blushed. “You’re welcome. Have fun.”

Eddie sat down cross-legged from Steve and set the two bottles down between them.

“Can’t have a sleepover without painting your nails and talking about boys,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear.

Steve laughed. “All right, Eds. You got me there.”

“I thought I would paint yours first, so you can watch me do it,” Eddie said. “And then you can do mine.”

Steve nodded and let Eddie take his right hand.

“Judd Nelson or Rob Lowe?” Eddie asked, delicately painting the thumb nail first.

“Ooh,” Steve said. “Going straight for the bad boys. Robert Downey Jr.”

Eddie looked up at him and tsked. “Wasn’t an option, but interesting.”

Steve laughed and Eddie swatted him. “Stop moving.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, but he was grinning unrepentantly.

“And people say I’m a menace,” he mumbled under his breath.

Steve leaned in close. “Oh, you absolutely are. But I’ll let you in on a secret. So am I.”

Eddie blushed.

They continued to banter back and forth about their favorite actors and singers.

“You take that back!” Eddie protested.

Steve tapped the back of his hand. “Don’t move!” Eddie stopped struggling. “And I didn’t say it was a bad thing you look like John Bon Jovi, I was just making an observation.”

“His sound,” Eddie murmured, “I wouldn’t even deign to call it music, is trash Steve. Literal trash.”

Steve laughed. “Well there you go, menace. All done.”

Eddie held his hands up and admired them. “Not bad, Stevie. Not bad at all.”

“Not as good as yours,” Steve said softly, ducking his head.

“True, but since this was your first time, you did one hell of a job.”

El came over. “Can I see?”

Steve handed her back her bottles of nail polish and then showed her his hands.

��Eddie did a wonderful job,” she said with a gentle smile. “It makes your hands very pretty.”

“Thanks, El,” he said kissing her cheek.

Eddie showed her his and she nodded. “A couple of mistakes but an easy fix.” She went back over to her kaboodle and got out another bottle and a Q-tip. She scooted back over to Steve and Eddie.

“Here’s what you can do when you accidentally paint outside the nail,” El said and dipped the Q-tip into the bottle.

It smelled horrible. She picked up Eddie’s hand gingerly brushed the sides of the nail where Steve had missed and then it was gone, looking for all the world like Steve hadn’t fucked it up.

Steve picked up the bottle and read the label. “Polish remover?”

El nodded. “It’s great for touch ups or when you want a new color.”

“You’re the best El,” Eddie said with a dimpled grin.

She smiled shyly and went back to Max and Nancy.

And if that night found Eddie and Steve holding hands in their sleep, no one noticed. Or at least cared enough to mention it.

“You smooth mother fucker!” Max said. “It was all an excuse to get Steve to hold your hand for long periods of time!”

Eddie laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?!”

“There is no way Lucas is going to let me paint his nails to hold hands,” she said bitterly.

He shrugged. “So bake bread or make cookies. Something that requires your hands. Like I keep saying, your jock is going to be different, but you find things that work for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered darkly. “What happens once he gets use to hand holding?”

Part 5 Part 6

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spiderlilyserendipity · 1 year

Text

The 57.1% Bad Idea 🔞

WC: 3602 (3.6K)

Genres: fluff, smut, E2L

Tags: slight corruption kink, oc is a virgin, dom! yoongi, sub! reader, dom/sub elements, no titles set for this so not proper bdsm but yk, big dick yoongi, praise!!!!!!, oc is a tomboy in the streets and a pillow princess in the sheets send tweet, i am going to hell for this but i blame yoongi’s sexiness for it, this was supposed to be a lot kinkier originally but i’m too soft for soft dom yoongi.

Warnings: tipsy (but consensual!) sex, protected sex, age difference in reader & yoongi (10 years), oc is 23, myg is 33.

You might be new to the industry, but you know when someone is fucking with you.

Of course, you’ve heard all the rumours. How the legendary BTS are workaholics, working up to 18 hours a day when they first debuted. You get that, and to be honest, you respect it. But they’re not newly debuted kids anymore, damn it! It is 2026 already, 13 years since their debut, but all of the members are still grinding their damn gears like it’s day one. And fine, you can respect the dedication, but that doesn’t warrant the hell a certain Min Yoongi — also known as Producer Min — has been putting you through.

You don’t see the celebrity face to face due to his killer schedules, but you get many annoying emails from him ever since you started working as one of the new in-house producers. Redo this, this isn’t what I’m looking for, the members don’t like the key on this one, and over and over.

You let it slide the first 5 or so times, but it’s getting old now. You’re only 23 years old damn it, not an old man like that Min Yoongi guy must be, that all he does is sit and write music! You have a life.

But no one cares because this is the oh so great BTS you have to serve hand and foot.

You’re out for dinner with your friends when Min Yoongi emails you at 8pm. Who is even logged into their work email that late? This multi-millionaire, apparently.

You sigh, putting down your utensils to pick up your phone. You brace yourself for another email where Yoongi tells you that you don’t meet his high standards. Go figure.

Hello Miss Y/L/N. I looked at your arrangement, but it still needs some cleaning up.

If you recall, this is the 5th email I have sent you and we are still not communicating. Can you call me instead?

You want to bang your head against a wall. It is a Friday night. Who the hell wants to call a man 10 years their senior and be lectured on a Friday night?

“Y/N, where are you going?” Your friends ask.

“To deal with an asshole named Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi?!?” Your friend gasps. You sigh internally. You forget some of your friends are ARMYs, hence why you never complain about how annoying Min Yoongi is to them. “Did he give you his number? Are you going to see him? Can I get a—”

“Yes I have his number. I don’t know if I have to see him tonight. And no, I won’t get you a signed album.” You answer, reading your friend’s mind. Your other friends all laugh as Sunmi looks disappointed. You sigh, smiling at her. “Work is work. I love you but sorry. I gotta go.”

Understanding work, your friends let you go.

You get out of the restaurant, still cursing Yoongi. You get in your car and dial the number Yoongi gave you.

“Hello?” Yoongi picks up on the third ring. You scowl. As if he didn’t know I was gonna call.

You plaster your work smile on, knowing you’re really fucked if you piss Min Yoongi off. You might not like the guy, but a girl has bills to pay. “Hello Producer Min. It’s me, Y/N.”

“Producer Y/L/N.” Yoongi corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “Where are you at the moment?”

“I’m out right now with my friends.” You set boundaries firmly. “I am not at work, but if you can show me what you meant, I will fix up the arrangement accordingly.”

Yoongi scoffs. Your blood boils. “How will you know what I mean unless you have your laptop out? You’re awfully cocky for a new hire.”

You clench the steering wheel tight with one hand. “I am not working at the moment, Producer Min. It is 8 pm.”

Yoongi laughs at you. Like, actually laughs. “Do you know we need this song recorded by Wednesday? If I don’t have a clean instrumental, how is my team supposed to record it?”

There it is, the inevitable scolding. You pull down the little fold-away sun blocker/mirror thing in your car and check your makeup. You got dressed up cute tonight, a white floral dress and light pink eyeshadow and matching pink lipstick. Your hair is even styled back in a cute half up half down hairstyle. You don’t usually look so girly, preferring comfortable clothes like sweats and tshirts, though you respect girls who put in that effort every day. But for you, the reason is your friend from college, Nate, is stopping by later tonight. You had always had a crush on him since you sat in lectures together.

You hate the idea of Yoongi being the one to see you so cute and especially hate having a meeting with him instead of getting to see Nate tonight.

But a girl has bills to pay. “What would you like me to do?” You ask.

“I have an at-home studio that I work in on the weekends. Stop by just for thirty minutes and then go back to your friends.”

You roll your eyes. You already told your friends goodbye. Besides, it would be weird to just butt back in again after leaving. You close the mirror and fold it up. Guess your only date tonight is Min Yoongi. “Please text me your address. I will be there soon.”

🎀🎀🎀

You hate the look on Min Yoongi’s face when you walk up to him in the underground parking lot. You hate rich people and their fancy apartments. It took you forever to convince the security guard in the front that yes, you were a guest of Min Yoongi despite your run down car from college. And then, when you get through that hassle, you find Yoongi waiting at the elevator with a card in hand to swipe you in.

If you were gonna be nice, you could’ve told the security guard I was coming. You frown, bowing hello.

“I should’ve told the security guard you were coming, huh?” Yoongi grins at you, tapping the card to get inside. You jolt in surprise, wondering if this mean producer is also a mind-reader. You eye him suspiciously as you get in the elevator. It’s a fancy elevator with luxurious looking buttons and the logo of the fancy apartment complex this building is in. But you’re more nervous about the fact that Yoongi just read your mind.

Seeing you look shocked, Yoongi presses the button for the 7th floor. “I saw you showing your work ID to the security guard at the front.” He says. You clench your teeth. If he knew, why not help you? Damn rich people.

You follow Yoongi when the doors open on the 7th floor. The apartment hall looks kind of like a fancy hotel until you get to Yoongi’s door and he taps his own passcode to get in.

The house is deceivingly large for an apartment, all black and white coloured vases, art on the walls, and black marble floors that are definitely worth more than your life savings. You follow Yoongi, walking on eggshells already. He leads you past a fancy living room with white sofas and an all black kitchen and upstairs to the second floor. With his back to you, you openly marvel at how cool everything is. You guess being a crazy workaholic does pay out for some people.

🎀🎀🎀

It’s nearing midnight now and you’re still stuck here with Yoongi. The work is finally done, but at the cost of your sanity and Yoongi’s incessant nagging.

Feeling your irritation, Yoongi makes the rare attempt at a peace offering. “Should we have a glass of whiskey now that we’re done working?”

Tired but unable to resist the temptation of some good alcohol, you take up his offer. “Sure.”

Yoongi steps away from his computer, walking away down the hall to the kitchen. In a few minutes, he returns with a bottle of alcohol and two small glasses. “It’s 57.1% alcohol. Can you drink that strong?” He asks, arching a brow. Your ego flairs.

“Yes.” You reply confidently, knowing good and well you’re a lightweight. You let him pour you a glass, then take a sip. As expected, it burns, and not particularly in a good way.

“Who are you all dolled up for anyway; is it a guy you like?” Yoongi asks curiously.

“No, that guy has a girlfriend.” You admit, not sure why you’re having this conversation with Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns. “So? Can’t you be pretty for yourself?”

You sigh. “I can, but it’s still disappointing. I wanted to be his really bad.” You mumble.

“...In...Be his in what way?”

You drink down the rest of the alcohol, shocking Yoongi, who stares at you. You muster up your courage, feeling the alcohol already starting to sink in. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Yoongi clears his throat, continuing to work. “Never mind.”

“I wanted to date him.” You admit, sober enough to know you’ll regret saying this tomorrow but tipsy enough to not care at this moment. “I wanted to get close to him and maybe… I don’t know.”

“Maybe what?” Yoongi pushes you.

You look down at your phone. “Maybe...do that with him.”

Yoongi is frowning at you now. “You mean sex?” You fluster so bad at the word you drop your phone, right into a pile of cables under Yoongi’s desk.

You sigh loudly, no longer hiding how frustrated you are. You get out of your chair and onto your knees, lowering your head to look around for your phone. Just your luck, it’s stuck in a pile of wires.

Noticing you fumble with it, Yoongi’s legs turn toward you. “Need some help with that?”

You look up as much as you can from under the table. You find yourself looking right into Min Yoongi’s piercing black eyes. They’re dark from a hazy look in them and the shadows cast by his bangs. You have only just realized you’re sitting between his legs. When Yoongi smirks at you, you bang your head on the underside of the desk. Yoongi laughs under his breath at you, but doesn’t move.

You grab your phone and push up on Yoongi’s knee to stand. But just your luck, you slip on your stockings.

Before you can fall flat on your face, a pair of large hands wrap around your waist and pull you into Yoongi’s lap. You let out a noise as you fall, but Yoongi is unfazed as you fall against him. His strong arms wrap around your back, holding you sideways on top of him.

“S-Sorry.” You blurt immediately, turning away from his face. Too close!

You try to get up, but Yoongi’s arms tighten around you. “What are you sorry for Y/N?” He asks in a low, deep voice. A shiver runs down your spine at how he’s looking at you. Then, he smirks. “Drunk from just one sip of my whiskey?”

You shake your head, trying to get up again. You absentmindedly place a hand on Yoongi’s chest to get up, but freeze when you feel his strong muscles through your shirt. A little tipsy, you’re not very quick-minded and linger a moment. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Producer Min…” You whisper, swallowing audibly. “I think I need to go home.”

“Makes sense since it’s late. But I drank so I can’t drive you.”

“I can get a cab.” You say, looking at your hand on his chest. Was his chest always that wide and strong? You blush.

“What about your car? You will have to leave it here if you catch a cab. Won’t you need that for work on Monday?”

You pout. “Can’t I come get it later?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Guest parking isn’t allowed for more than 12 hours. It’ll get towed if you leave it here”

You frown. “Meanie.”

Yoongi grins at how cute you look. “Sorry doll, I didn’t make the rules.”

You sigh. You don’t know who to call to come get you either. Most of your friends are probably drunk by now since it’s Friday night, and it’s not like you can tell your parents to pick you up drunk from a guy’s house at midnight.

“...Producer Min.” You start hesitantly. Yoongi continues grinning at you, which is oddly scarier than if he was frowning. “C-Could I borrow a room tonight?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift. “You’re the youngest producer in our company and I’m the most senior artist. Do you think you’re allowed to do that?”

You wriggle in Yoongi’s lap in frustration, making him tighten his hold on you. His smile falls away to a dark look. “Behave.” Yoongi says, stirring something inside of you.

“I know I’m not allowed but it’s not my fault! You’re the one that made me come here.”

“You’re the one that didn’t do a good job in the first place.” Yoongi rebuttals.

You let out a whine in frustration. “Yoongi! Can’t you ever be nice to me? I did my best, I really did!” You don’t know why the hell Min Yoongi’s standards are so high in the first place, you always did amazing on your assignments when you majored in music!

“Yoongi?” Yoongi repeats. He leans in, making you flush and look away. As you bury your head in his shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Is that what behaving looks like, doll?”

“Ugh, just tell me if I can borrow the room!” You demand but Yoongi doesn’t entertain you at all.

“Do you know what I think this looks like?” Yoongi’s low voice sends chills all over your body. His hands slowly rub circles in unison, one on the back of your thighs and the other on your lower back. You stay completely still, although you’re not sure why, anticipating what he is going to say. “I think you’re acting up because I got in the way of you losing your virginity tonight.”

You gasp at how Yoongi reads your mind again. You hadn’t told anyone that, not even your best friend but somehow Yoongi knew. Yes, in your ideal case, Nate would return your feelings and you could hook up tonight. It’s not like you’re waiting for marriage, just that you’ve never liked a guy enough to do it yet.

So why are the insides of your thighs so sticky just from Min Yoongi(the man you hate)’s words?

You whimper against the side of Yoongi’s neck when his hand on the back of your thigh brushes close to the space between your thighs. If he presses any closer to your core, he would feel how wet you are.

“Is that true, Y/N?” Yoongi whispers, dangerously sweet. You whine again as he pulls one of your bra straps through the material of your dress and lets it snap against your back. “Give me an answer.”

“Y-Yes. I wanted to lose my virginity tonight.” You admit, embarrassed at how breathless you are.

“Should I make up for it then?” Yoongi asks.

You gasp. You push off and this time Yoongi lets you. You stand up, blushing.

Yoongi stands slowly, no longer cheeky. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes sincerely. He looks away. “I-It must’ve been the whiskey. God, what am I doing? You're ten years younger than me. Here, let me call you a driver.” He rambles, pulling out his cellphone.

You put a hand on his wrist, startled by his sharp change in attitude. Yoongi stills under your touch. He looks at you with worry. “Do you want to go home? Or you can borrow my room. I-I mean the extra one. It has a lock on the door, don’t worry.” Yoongi flusters, talking faster now.

“Y--Min PD.” You say, finally making him look at you. “It’s okay.”

Yoongi still shakes his head. “No, I was...I was overconfident. And I crossed a professional boundary tonight. It’s not okay, and you don’t need to forgive me for making you uncomfortable--”

You silence him with a kiss.

Yoongi pauses, then pulls away from the kiss. He holds you at arms length. “Y/N.” He says it extremely seriously. “What did that just mean?”

You look down. “...Isn’t that what I should do to s-start us?”

Yoongi cups your face and makes you look at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something so insensitive. Personally, I don’t really think virginity is a thing, but if it matters to you then it matters. I won’t force you.”

“Yoongi, I want to.” You say sincerely. Yoongi blushes. “I haven’t been waiting for anyone special or anything. It’s… I never decided to go all the way.”

Yoongi hesitates. “Are you sure?”

You nod. Yoongi sighs in relief. “Thank god. I was going crazy from how pretty you look.” He admits, before leaning in to kiss you senseless.

You shiver at his touch, pulling him in closer.

“Like that, baby?” Yoongi kisses your neck. You whine and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes, yes.” You answer, and he scoops you up into his arms, leading you towards his bedroom.

“Good.” Yoongi chuckles. He lays you down gently like a bride, then begins looking for a condom in his bedside drawer.

“W-What about you?” You ask.

Yoongi returns with the condom and a bottle of lube beside him, peering at you curiously. You flush at the sight of his hard cock which he easily slides a large condom on top of without breaking eye contact with you. “What do you mean?”

“A-Are you okay?” You ask, not sure how to sexily reaffirm consent. Yoongi laughs, really laughs. He leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“Yes sweetheart.” He chuckles.

When you wriggle under him, his gaze darkens. “Behave.” He whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You yelp, making him laugh again as he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

He works three fingers inside you again, checking that you’re not still tense before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance. You whimper at the stretch, making Yoongi hesitate. “Need more time, doll?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours.

“N-No.” You reply, squeezing your eyes shut. Slowly, Yoongi enters inch by inch until he’s in to the hilt. You grip his shoulders, waiting for the slight burn to fade. Yoongi does a great job warming you up, but his cock is just a bit too big for you to take comfortably. “Y-Yoongi.”

Yoongi lets out a breathy moan. “Yes baby?” He asks.

“F-Feels so full.” You breathe out, making Yoongi grip your hips tighter.

“Yeah baby? Feel full of me?” He urges you on, voice deep and husky from arousal. He waits until you’re comfortable, looking up at him with hazy eyes to start moving. He starts slow, making you arch up but he holds you down firmly. “Want me to use you up properly since it’s your first time, huh? That’s why you keep acting like a brat.” He punctuates the word with a deep thrust that has you scrambling for purchase in the sheets.

You whine and Yoongi finally has enough of it. He takes both of your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. He picks up his pace, eyes never looking away from your body. He watches you strain to arch up against his hold with a cocky smile, before pressing kisses to your breasts. “Good girl.” he praises when you stop fighting for control, dissolving completely into a pile of whimpers. “So good. So fucking wet.” Yoongi growls, picking up his pace.

“Y-Yoongi!” You cry out and he silences you with a hot, powerful kiss.

“I know, baby.” He reassures, unspoken promise in his voice. “I’m here.”

“Y-Yoongi.” You warn a few moments later, and Yoongi gives your cheek a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. I’ll let you come.” He promises, and you nod, believing him.

Finally, Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, and he reaches between your legs and rubs your clit. He pulls you flush against him when you come, trembling from how good it was.

“Good girl. So sweet for me.” He praises, peppering your face with kisses. You wrap your arms around his middle and sigh in satisfaction.

The two of you lay there like that for an indefinite time, until you speak up. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks, rubbing the back of your head.

“Am I gonna get fired for this?”

Yoongi pulls back and looks at you. “Why would you get fired for us dating?”

You’re surprised. “We’re dating?”

Yoongi blushes. “I mean, unless you don’t want to. Either way, no one will find out because it’s just between—”

“Can we take it slow? My head is spinning right now.” You giggle. Yoongi smiles warmly at you.

“Of course. But first let me clean you up.” He says, and you let him carry you to the bathroom.

In the shower, Yoongi once again proves he is true to his word. He cleans you up and changes the bedsheets. While he’s changing them, he brings you a cup of tea while you wait and kisses your forehead.

“Yoongi, have you had a crush on me this whole time?” You ask, once situated in bed again.

“Haven’t you?”

You think about it, then grin. “I guess I just needed some liquid courage to realize it.”

Yoongi snorts, pulling you in closer. “That was the best purchase of my life.”

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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daisynik7 · 7 months

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Can I request All for you by Janet Jackson for Aki Hayakawa - fluff

All For You

Tell me I’m the only one. Soon we’ll be having fun.

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x f!reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

cw: fluff, grumpy/sunshine trope, alcohol consumption (everyone is of age)

Summary: Aki Hayakawa has been training you for the past two months, helping you acclimate into your new role as a Public Safety Devil Hunter. From the start, you were smitten, unable to contain your cheery attitude whenever you’re with him. He’s closed off, strictly business, and never cracks a smile, but in his own subtle ways, he shows you that he cares. One day, after a successful mission, you test your luck to see if your love is truly unrequited, or if Aki just needs that extra push to admit his true feelings for you. A little bit of liquid courage might also come in handy.

Author’s Notes: Ahhh, my first Aki fic! Thanks for the request anon, I LOVE Janet Jackson, and this is the perfect song for the y2k karaoke party! I hope you like this! It’s short, sweet, and very fluffy, so it’s been a nice break from the shameless smut I’ve been writing LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thank you for reading! Banner created by @/saradika.

It’s been two months since you started working for Public Safety. Two months of grueling training, both physical and mental, and two months of being stuck with the notoriously grumpy Aki Hayakawa. But you’re not complaining, considering how absolutely head over heels you are for him.

In this case, it’s true what they say: opposites attract. While you’re the type of person to always have a happy expression on your face, Aki is the opposite. You have yet to see him crack a smile, even the tiniest hint of one. No matter how hard you try to bombard him with your joyous affections and shameless flirting, he remains unfazed by it. Though, you’re certain he doesn’t hate it. If he did, you would have already been chucked off to someone else to have to deal with you. That’s why you continue your efforts; because deep down, you know he likes it. Likes you.

He doesn’t say it in words, but he doesn’t have to. His actions display them perfectly. Subtle glances during moments he thinks you’re not looking, though you always are. Small gestures to show he cares about your safety and well-being, like always switching spots with you when you’re walking on a sidewalk, making sure he’s on the side of the street. Putting out his cigarette whenever you arrive because he knows you don’t like the smell. Holding the door open for you, sharing his umbrella on rainy days, always volunteering to be your partner during group missions because he doesn’t trust anyone else to be with you. Sure, maybe he’s just that nice of a guy, a true gentleman, a man who proves chivalry is not dead. Or, maybe he really likes you as much as you do him. Is it wishful thinking? Probably. You’re growing impatient waiting for validation, so tonight, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

The Public Safety Department is out to celebrate a successful mission. It’s the first time you’ve all been together in a while, so many of you are ready to let loose. Your team sits together in one corner of the restaurant, a round of beers already being passed down as soon as you take your seat by the wall, directly across from Aki. Kishibe, the most senior Devil Hunter, takes a spot next to you, while Kobeni, your dear friend and main confidant on the team, sits by Aki. As usual, he’s quiet, sipping on his drink without so much as a peep. His eyes flit towards you as you grab the handle and take several heavy gulps of beer. You’re going to need some liquid courage in you for what you’re about to do.

Kishibe doesn’t say much either, downing his liquor silently, leaving you and Kobeni to fill the void with random small talk until appetizers are served, and she stuffs her mouth with gyozas and chicken yakitori. When you’re almost done with your beer, Aki’s shoves the plate of dumplings to you. “You should eat,” he mutters, staring at your empty glass.

You grin at him. “I will, if you feed me.” You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out playfully.

He rolls his eyes at you, a small blush surrounding his cheeks. “Stop acting like a child.”

Feeling particularly wicked, you turn to face your neighbor. “Kishibe, can you feed me?”

The older man chuckles, already finished with three pints. “Alright.” He pinches a gyoza between his fingers, dips it in the sauce, and guides into your mouth whole. From your peripheral, you notice Aki scowl, grabbing at the pitcher at the center of the table to refill his cup to the brim.

You giggle, chewing it into smaller pieces to swallow, batting your eyelashes with your hand covering your mouth. “Thank you, Master.”

Kishibe laughs again, clearly amused by this, glancing at Aki across the table. “Is this what you have to deal with?”

“You have no idea,” Aki grunts, chugging his beer halfway.

For the next hour, you continue to focus all your attention on Kishibe, and none on Aki, who sits still with his shoulders tense and a permanent frown on his face. It helps that your senior is playing into it, not questioning your brazen behavior, fully aware of your crush on Aki because you have admitted it to him plenty of times before. Aki’s had several pints now, a red glow surrounding his cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He hasn’t said a word as you blatantly flirt with Kishibe in front of him. You’re feeling a buzz now, more reckless with your emotions. Suddenly, you’re annoyed with yourself and with him; you stand up, wobbling slightly, murmuring something about going outside for some air.

You’re slumped on the steps in front of the restaurant, breathing in the fresh night air, cool against your hot skin, feeling defeated. Your dumb plan to make him jealous backfired, leaving you just as confused as before. Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel and just accept that Aki will never reciprocate your feelings.

You’re alone for a few minutes until the door swings open and you see Aki walking towards you. a glass of water in one hand, the other tucked in his pocket. He passes it to you, saying, “Drink this.”

Pouting, you take it, sipping it slowly. “Thanks, I guess.” You add the last part spitefully.

He sits next to you, sighing. “Why are you doing this?” His voice isn’t his typical monotone; there’s actual concern behind it now.

“Doing what?” You set the water beside you, crossing your arms.

“You know what.”

You shrug, leaning back on your hands, staring up at the sky, blinking at the moon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about it.”

He turns to face you, swallowing loudly. “Why are you being like this? Are you in love with him?”

This catches you off guard. “Huh?”

“Kishibe. Are you in love with Kishibe?” His brows are tight, eyes imploring you for the truth. And it’s in this moment that you realize your plan actually worked. And now you feel guilty.

Before this gets out of hand, you decide to stop the games and be honest with him. “No Aki. It’s you. It’s always been you. You’re the only one.” You look at your shoes, avoiding his gaze, embarrassed by your confession, nervous for his reaction.

“Then why were you – ”

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you interrupt him, explaining yourself. “I’m sorry. It was childish and immature and just plain dumb and I’m sorry. I understand if you’re upset. You can hand me off to someone else if you want. You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

He copies your posture, leaning on his wrists, hands so close to touching yours. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not upset,” he says softly.

You look at him, surprised at his response. “You’re not?”

And finally, after two months of yearning for it, he smiles at you. “Not at all.”

You can’t help perking up at this, scooting even closer to him. “Does that mean…?”

“Yeah. It does.” He places his hand on top of yours, squeezing it gently.

“You have to say it,” you demand, flipping your palm over to interlock your fingers with his.

“Do I have to?” he groans, still grinning.

Your heart pounds in your chest, belly fluttering, grin wide and eyes bright. “Use your words, Aki. Or else I’ll get confused again.”

He shifts forward, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I like you. Happy now?”

You close the gap, kissing him on the lips, smiling. “Very happy.”

#aki hayakawa #aki chainsaw man #aki x reader #aki x you #aki x y/n #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki hayakawa chainsaw man #aki hayakawa fluff #aki fluff #chainsaw man fluff #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

Tutor: Driven Home - Rafe Cameron

Words: 4.2k+ Type: Smut Summary: A week later, Ward Cameron offers his son to drive you home. Warnings: Fem!Reader [no mentions of race or body type]. Dark!Rafe (no mentions, but a part of the AU). SMUT [car sex, p in v, condom (a miracle in my fics), risk of getting caught, kind of a quickie/fast smut]. Part 1 of this series

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

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It has been a week since the last time you tutored Wheezie, and, of course, since what happened between you and Rafe. Wheezie had a test early this week, to which she called you just to let you know how well it went, and, because of that, Rose asked if it was okay for Wheezie to stop lessons for her to have some rest. It was fine by you, she doesn’t have to worry about a test until a good few other weeks. So, nothing to worry about.

Also, after what happened on that day, everything has been a little weird in your head. You’ve grown a little paranoid with the idea that someone could find out through Rafe, or even if you let it slip on one of those nights that your friends put more and more drinks on your hands. But, as the week kept on going, absolutely nothing happened. And that relaxed you.

Now, after a week of Wheezie's break from studying, you are needed back at the Cameron’s residence. You didn’t even get close to complaining about coming back to work, but your friends? Nonstop. They’re going to hang out after they drop you off, so you get to be in the presence of the fantastic rant of how this job is a bad idea, all over again.

Before the car comes to a full stop, you already have your seatbelt undone and are ready to sprint out of the car, but a hand stops you.

“Call us when it’s over.” One of them says, “We’ll come speeding.”

“Okay.” You say with a chuckle.

You open the door and jump out of the car, offering them a small wave of 'goodbye' before closing the door.

By the time you get inside, the colder air of the house’s AC hits you, and you begin to make your way through the main hallway.

Right at the same time, Wheezie walks out of the living room and lays her eyes on you. She offers you a smile before beginning to speak.

“Hi!” She says.

You two begin your usual small conversation, just asking how you've been, and what you've been doing lately. Slowly and while in the midst of conversation, you two begin to make your way up the stairs. Wheezie tells you all about the plot of a movie she watched last night, and you listen to her every word.

She opens the door to her bedroom and, right as you’re about to walk in, a door at the end of the hallway opens. Unconsciously, you look over while listening to Wheezie’s storytelling and see Rafe just walking out.

You walk into the room to not make it seem too weird and decide to leave the door open (as always) as you begin taking your bag off your shoulder. As you put down the bag over the desk and take some of your things out, you can only concentrate on the soft sound of steps outside of the room, making their way down the hall.

“And then she killed him!” Wheezie squeals in excitement with the story, “It was such a good ending. I’m still not over it.”

You smile at her excitement and pull your laptop out of the bag. Wheezie has taken her seat on her usual spot and already has her book on the right page to show you where she is in her classes. You move to take a seat with her and force yourself to not be caught looking up at the door, simply at her book.

You grab her book from her hands to get a better look and read some stuff to get an idea about what she’s learning in class, but her voice interrupts you.

“Rafe! Wait!” She says out loud, quickly getting up from the floor.

You look up at her to see her run over to the other side of the room to grab something and run back to the doorway. She hands her brother some sort of book, and you notice it’s one from high school. He takes it from her hands, and you finally let yourself look up at his face.

They exchange a few words, those of which you do not care to listen to, and, before you even notice it, the conversation is done and Rafe looks away from his younger sister. His eyes go to yours right away and you practically feel as if you froze to the carpet. He doesn’t say or do anything, he just stares for 2 seconds before Wheezie moves back.

“She says ‘thank you’.” Wheezie tells him, and you look away as well.

“Okay.” He says to her.

As Rafe was done talking, he began to take a step back to move away. You look away from him once more and Wheezie closes the door, unaware of the looks.

“Rafe let me give his book to a friend of mine.” She explains to you, out of nowhere, “She’s one of those people who panic when they don’t know what they’ll be studying next year. And I’m the only one in the friend group with older siblings.”

You nod at her, questioning yourself if you had any sort of expression on your face which made Wheezie feel the need to explain stuff to you. You hope not, you don’t like to seem all up in people’s businesses.

“Okay.” You simply say, not trying to sound too interested in what she said. It is truly just a book, but you’re still very much going through the aftershocks of seeing her brother again.

Wheezie sits back down and you look down at the book, continuing with your reading. Or, at least, faking to do so.

No matter what you do, or who you’re talking to, for some reason, that day never gets out of your mind. For a few moments, this week, you’ve thought that probably it all was something out of your mind, something you made up whenever you spaced out that day. But, god, deep down you knew it was all real. And being back at the house and seeing him again... You just know everything was real, and not even a bit of regret ever courses through you.

Wheezie moves to open her notebook and that seems to be enough to snap you back awake. You type some things on your computer and begin to look for exercises for Wheezie.

(...)

Hours have gone by and the sun has begun to set. You and Wheezie have finished studying for some time, and all you’ve been doing since then is talking.

Sarah came into the room, at one point, and stayed for the conversations as well. She told you all about her new friends and boyfriend - a group of people you’re not sure you’ve ever heard of, but they seem nice enough.

Even though you liked your time with the girls, you realize midway through how you really should start making your way home. Your parents must be ready to begin blowing up your phone and assume that the Cameron’s have locked you in their basement at this point.

You say your goodbyes to Sarah and Wheezie with tight hugs and begin to make your way down the stairs. Your bag is over your shoulder, and you look down at your phone to call your friends to pick you up as soon as you get to the porch. They're nearby, they'd be quick to get here.

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Rose’s voice comes out of nowhere as you reach the last step and actually makes you jump. She chuckles and quickly apologizes.

“No, not today.” You tell her with an apologetic smile, “My parents already made some at home.”

“Of course.” She says, and Ward Cameron walks right out of the room behind her.

You two greet each other pleasantly, and you look over at the front door, ready to leave so you don't get an earful from your parents.

“You’re leaving now?” Ward asks with a worried tone, “It’s pouring rain.”

“It’s alright,” You start telling him with a smile, “I-”

Right as you’re about to mention how you have someone to come pick you up, Ward’s words make you stop dead on your tracks and not even dare to say anything against it.

“Nonsense, Rafe can take you.” He tells you.

Ward turns around to call for his son, and you thank him with a small smile, appearing shy with the offer. All while you mentally scream at the top of your lungs in excitement.

“Take my car.” Ward tells Rafe as the latter is still out of view.

Rafe finally appears through the doorway, car keys in one hand and a jacket in the other. You begin to say your goodbyes to the pair, before beginning to follow the tall man out of the house.

You two get to the porch, and you see through the windowed walls how much rain is actually falling. Outer Banks and its random pouring of rain, it never fails. Rafe pulls the door open, and you stick close to him - not really sure where the car is.

You finally walk out and, while Rafe is quick to find and make it to the car, you make sure the front door is closed right before making your way to him.

The two of you get in quickly and close your doors. You put your backpack down and exhale a bit loudly, noticing how your hair and clothes still were able to get wet from the rain.

Rafe starts the car without saying a word, and you put on your seatbelt in matching silence. You watch as he moves the car out of his driveway and looks over at you, finding you shamelessly already looking at him.

“Where do you live?”

You try to tell him the name of the street first, in case he knows it, but you quickly end up having to tell him the directions.

Rafe is careful while driving in the pouring rain, and you catch yourself staring at him a bit too many times. Enough times for you to even feel a little embarrassed with yourself.

You lean back on your seat, relaxing while knowing that he’ll have to drive straight for some time, and look out of the window. You can see the beach from where you are, and, with this view, it’s quick for your mind to move elsewhere.

Rafe takes a few careful looks at you but doesn’t say anything. It is painfully obvious that what happened that day hasn’t left his mind, yet he knows couldn't have done anything about it until today. He hasn’t seen you for a week, all due to Rose’s idea of Wheezie’s 'much-needed rest', but he also hasn’t seen you around anywhere else.

You look away from the window and look over at him, just with a quick glance, and a soft grin grows on your face when you catch him looking. Rafe faces the road once more, and you do the same.

“Make the turn over to the right.” You tell him softly.

He does as told, and you speak once more.

“It’s just the house down the street.”

But Rafe doesn’t drive all the way there. He stops the car exactly where he is, all the way at the start of the street. You look at him confused, and he turns the car off before looking at you. He takes off his seatbelt, and you feel your heart speed up at whatever is going on.

He hasn’t said a word to you the whole drive, and, frankly, you weren’t expecting him to do it for the whole rest of it. Not even for a goodbye. You actually planned on staying as quiet as he is.

“What is it?” You ask him, and your tone is cutely concerned.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head a tiny bit.

You frown a bit, and he leans over the console of the car, making you two stay at a short distance. You look back at him and can already feel your whole body reacting. His eyes scan the entirety of your face, and you can feel your lips curve into a smile as you find the entire thing a bit humorous.

His eyes look away from your face over to the outside of the window for a second, and then his glance falls to your lap. You’re wearing a skirt due to the hot temperatures, yet it caught some water when you ran under the rain.

You stare at him, and his eyes move back to yours. Your body tingles from being under his stare, but all you do is move slightly closer to the console. Your legs are tightly close to one another this time, and that’s when you feel his lips against yours. It catches you by surprise, but you’re quick to recover from it and begin to kiss back.

One of Rafe’s hands lays over your thigh, and you switch on your seat slightly. His hand smooths over the soft skin of your leg and moves slightly under the fabric of your skirt. You lay one of your hands on the back of his neck and roughen the kiss.

Rafe groans against your mouth and pulls away. He taps his lap as he leans back on his seat, and you do right as told. He helps you move over the console and take a seat over his legs before you two kiss again. Rafe’s hands quickly move to under your skirt, grabbing onto your upper thighs and ass.

Realization hits you, and you pull away to look over at the outside.

“What?” He asks confused.

“What if my neighbors see us?”

“They won’t.” He tells you confidently, “The car has blacked-out windows, and it’s still pouring.”

You still look outside a bit unsure, and Rafe’s lips find their way to your neck. You hesitate just a tiny bit, having both of your hands on his shoulders and trying to hold your eyes open. You look at the houses of your neighbors and have a problem looking at them through the rain since the water is falling that heavily.

If you can't see them, they can't see you.

You pull Rafe away from your neck, and you reconnect your lips. Rafe pulls you closer to him by your hips and one of his hands holds onto the side of your underwear, just by your hip. Your fingers work through his hair, and you pull at it softly a few times while lost in the kiss.

Rafe’s hand moves and lays on top of your panties. He moves his fingers through your slit back and forth and over the thin fabric, and you moan into his lips. Rafe can feel how some of your wetness has begun to soak the fabric, making him feel his boxers grow tight. His fingers find your clit and he circles it, making you moan from his fingers and the friction of the fabric.

He pulls your panties to the side and sighs into the kiss when his fingers finally touch your wet pussy. You moan breathlessly at the familiar feeling of his fingers and grab onto his seat. You’ve been wanting something to happen every day since that afternoon because nothing ever pulled you away from the thought of his fingers inside of you.

Rafe leans back on the seat, and you’re the one to bring your hands to his shorts. You unbutton them, and Rafe pulls away from under your skirt to help and pull down his shorts. You kiss him midway through, and he brings a hand to the back of your head to kiss you roughly.

You whimper into his mouth from the kiss and subconsciously move your hips against his, making Rafe hold onto you tighter than before.

His fingers get to your pussy again, and he slides two inside of you right away. You try to hold in your sounds, but Rafe begins to speed up his hand as soon as he slides them inside. You break away from the kiss and hold onto his forearm as you let out a choked-out moan. Rafe uses his other hand to pull the fabric of your skirt up, watching as you ride his fingers while he thrusts them into you.

Your moans are louder than before, and you also look down at yourself, watching as you sit on his hand. You hold onto the fabric of your skirt, and Rafe looks up at your face, noticing that you’re watching yourself.

“You like to watch yourself, uh?” He asks you, and you whimper as a response.

He decides to add in his third finger, and your hold on his arm tightens. You move your hips over his hand, wetting it and making the loud noises of your wetness fill the small space of the car. Rafe brings his free hand over to your clit and plays with it.

It doesn’t even take two seconds before you come on his fingers.

He moves his hand to ride out your pleasure, and he watches as you moan softly and hold onto his arm still. Your breathing is heavy, and you still let out small moans with each passing moment. Rafe pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling, and you watch as he brings his fingers into the air.

He moves his thumb, the one that played with your clit, to his own mouth and sucks the wetness off it, and you bring the other hand to yours. He watches you clean his hand and he swears that there is no way in hell that you’re the same girl that he has been staring at for months.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and moves his hands to pull down his boxers. You move on your knees to make it easier for him and you watch as his dick appears from under his clothing. It’s bigger than you expected it to be, yet Rafe doesn't give you much time to look at it since he's already pulling at the fabric of your skirt. He pulls it back up and brings you closer to him by your hips.

He fetches something in his pocket, and you watch as he pulls a condom out of his wallet. You’re honestly too occupied with something else in your mind to even question him, but he quickly rips it out and puts it on himself. You move on top of him and begin to lower your hips. The two of you stare down and moan as soon as he enters you.

“Holy fucking shit.” Rafe whispers, “You're so tight.”

You move slowly at first, adjusting to the size and getting over the sensitivity from before, and Rafe is the one to push you down to take him all in. You feel the need to hold onto something and you grab onto Rafe’s arms. You begin to move up and down and soon your movements begin to get quicker.

“Rafe...” You say in a high tone of voice, already feeling your own body failing on you.

“You feel so good, princess. So fucking good.” He says before laying a kiss on the center of your chest.

Rafe controls some of your movements, forcing you to sit down on his lap with each movement of your hips, but you are completely lost in the moment. Pleasure has never felt as intense as today, and you can already feel your whole body shaking.

The slapping of skin fills the silence of the car, and so do your heavy breathings. You look up at Rafe and bring a hand to his cheek. You can almost feel some sort of euphoria run through every inch of your skin. You are fucking Rafe Cameron.

You connect your lips to a kiss once more, and Rafe kisses you back. He forces your hips to fall down on his lap roughly - which begins to seem like a pattern in everything that he does. The way he touches, the way he kisses, or even the way he holds you. Everything is done roughly. You’re not used to it, everything that you’ve ever felt was soft and gentle. All of this is almost like a breath of fresh air. Something you never knew you needed.

You do as he shows you, moving quickly and roughly. The both of you are lost in the midst of the kisses, sometimes stopping whenever the pleasure gets too intense on your part. Rafe’s hold on your hips has continuously grown tighter with time, and he can’t help but never take his eyes off you. You’re everything he has ever wanted and wished to have. You’re perfect.

“You're fucking perfect.” He says out loud, making a wave of warmth hit you. You try to hold back your moans and Rafe notices your reaction to his comment, so he does it again. “My perfect girl.”

The both of you are so different from one another in everything but, at the same time, nothing feels better than this. His rough touches with a mix of your own, yet they're always soft and tender. As well as your sounds. All of it is a mixture that only ends with perfection and utmost pleasure for both of you.

Rafe leans away from the seat and wraps one of his arms around your hips, holding you and guiding you through every movement as soon as your thighs begin to shake. The sounds and the feeling of him sliding inside of you while hitting every single spot is exactly what drives you over the edge. Not even a complete pair of thrusts of him inside of you, and Rafe feels you squeeze around him. You moan onto his neck, and Rafe holds you securely, continuing.

Everything is so intense that you feel like you've lost actual control over your body. Your orgasm is getting closer and closer and, at such a quick rate, it doesn't even make sense. You moan louder, and Rafe swears that he's in heaven every single time. The way your walls squeeze him and the way moan at everything he does and says.

Your orgasm courses through you and your whole body tighten up at the feeling of it. Rafe feels your walls squeeze around him, and he lets out a groan at the mere feel of it.

It doesn't take long for him to feel his stomach tighten with the orgasmic release, and he thrusts his hips upward to finally find it. It almost feels all to intense to the both of you. The car can truly only muffle some noises, but everything feels so intense that you always forget where you are.

Rafe grunts against your chest and lays his forehead against your shirt, feeling his cum finally fill the latex of the condom.

The two of you stay like that for a short while, trying to regain your breathing and calm down both of your bodies. You feel your body shaking on top of his while Rafe’s muscles take less time to finally relax under you. He lets go of your skirt and smooths his hand over your leg repeatedly and comfortingly.

You pull back slightly and so does Rafe. The two of you stare at one another for a bit, and you’re the one that breaks the moment with a kiss. You’re not sure why you do it so much, but kissing him feels good. It feels better than it did before, with your previous partner. You wonder why it's so different.

Your shared kiss is so much softer than before, it makes your body melt onto his. Rafe holds onto you securely, but your phone begins to ring, rudely interrupting the moment.

You pull away from him and look over at your phone, still on your seat, flashing your mother’s contact on the screen.

“Need to go?” Rafe takes a guess, and you look back at him.

You nod and kiss him again. He lets you do all of the kissing that you want and smooths his hands over the soft silky skin of your thighs.

After some time, Rafe helps you off his lap, and you notice how the rain is beginning to calm down quickly. You move back to your seat and adjust your clothing, just like Rafe does (after getting the condom off). He starts the car once again, and you grab your phone to see texts from your friends and the one missed call from your mom.

The car moves and stops just after a few seconds, and you look over to see your house. You quickly grab your things and get ready to leave under the pouring rain, knowing your mom must already be at the door waiting.

You open the door, and Rafe’s hand stops you from leaving. You look back at him, the sound around you is quickly muffled by the sound of the rain, and he hands you a jacket to cover you from the falling water.

You thank him with a smile and quickly put it over you. You close back the door, not wanting to look at him for too long in case any of your neighbors notice who he is, and run your way to the door.

As soon as your foot touches the porch, the door opens right away to reveal your mom, staring at you.

“I’m sorry, the rain was too heavy and we got here later than expected.” You apologize to her.

“Who drove you?” She asks confused, looking at the unfamiliar car driving off, “Never saw this car before.”

“Just a friend.” You quickly say while walking into the house.

Before your mother could ask anything else, you run up the stairs. You tell her from a distance how you need to go shower since you got wet from the rain, and she actually dismisses your behavior with that excuse.

You run to your room and put your things down. You let your smile finally appear on your face as you close the door of the bedroom behind you, and, when protected in your room, you bring your hands to your head.

Oh my fucking god.

As you express your silent excitement to yourself, you begin to walk over to the wardrobe to get some clothes to put on after the shower. You bite your lips, trying to hold in your giggling, and practically feel your heart explode in happiness as you move around.

You walk by your mirror and take a look at yourself. Your clothes didn't get too messed up with what happened, but as you pause your smoothing down the fabric as soon as you notice the jacket you have over your shoulders.

Rafe’s grey jacket.

Hope you liked this!! <3

Is there something you'd like to see next in this story? Pls, lmk!!

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