#like i just had the worst fucking weekend in the world and like had to spend $500 on some new tires and then had to cancel a date
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#Man fuck TikTok..#legit was#mindless scrolling until I hit a a TikTok that had pics of cast and it was all the celebs that were part of a tv show thay passed this year#and ofc included Angus and Matthew Perry were included#but the top comment was about angus and I just burst out crying because I miss him so much#wish I had more time and I wish he knew how much he meant for us and I hate he’s no longer here and I hate he’s gone#like i just had the worst fucking weekend in the world and like had to spend $500 on some new tires and then had to cancel a date#with this guy i really like and on tuesday it will be 4 months since he passed and im still not over it#i wish he was still here i dont wish he was suffering but like i wish he was still on the planet earth living the life he wanted to live#i wish he accomplished the goals he wanted to achieve#and i just wish he was still here for me for selfish reasons#idk tonight was my spiral moment after a long time#like i just can't stop crying and god i fucking miss angus#he deserved so much better and fuck man i want him back#but he's never coming back#never#and i hate 2023 with a burning passion#i want to go back in time and relive the moment when he was still in earth and appreciate them but i cant
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oh my god everything makes sense now
#ive had so much troubke sleeping for the last like. 3 weeks. like i havent been getting more than 4 hrs of sleep most nights#and its SUCKED so bad and ive had the worst dreams ever like#its either mind empty blank 0 dreams whatsoever (<< which ive learned also sucks! feels bad and empty in the morning)#or like..trauma nightmares. like im back in high school type nightmares. and a few work stress dreams sprinked in for flavor#lkke this has been. An Issue.#I JUST FIGURED OUT WHY. AND I FEEL SO STUPID#ITS BECAUSE I DONT HAVE LOKI LIVING WITH ME ANYMORE.#im at my parents house for the weekend and . got here at like 8pm last night.#laid on the couch. loki jumped up on thr couch with me to cuddle#and ive always said hes so good at this bc hes warm and he lays on top of me so hes like a weighted blanket#and i cant move my arms to look at my phone or anything so its SO easy to fall asleep w loki cuddles#AT 9PM I FELL ASLEEP. i havent gone to sleep before midnight in like 2 months.#and when i had 2 get up to move to the guest bed he followed me.#and i just woke up from a nightmare and he was on the other side of the bed so i reached my hand out 2 pet him#and he laid his little chin on my hand and oh my god everything makes so much sense now.#ive always kind of half joked abt loki being an esa. because im like. he is. but not officially#hes never been trained for it and we dont have like. documentation for it bc ive never been officially diagnosed for anything (hell world)#so i feel bad calling him that bc it feels like im. disrespecting people that Actually Need esas#(<< coming from.a guy who Actually Needs An ESA Apparently.) what the fuck#head in hands. everything makes so much sense now#and normally id go all science brain on this like oh it was just one night iwas probably just too tired i need more evidence to be sure#but like. i have loterally not slept this well in a month and a half.#I have not gonento sleep before midnight in AT.LEAST the last two weeks. CONSISTENTLY .#head in habds.
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hate hate hate hate hate my brain
#tell me why it makes me feel anxious and like nothing is real and like time is sludge ALL DAY for no fucking reason!!!!!!#why?!????#and I was so fucking nauseous on my shift because I forgot to eat enough before it#but then also my shift for this weekend and last weekend has been the fucking worst for feeling like nothing is real#it’s an easy job but idk how much longer I can do this for#wearing my glasses is torture at my job#things feel more real now but still my vision is a bit weird#you’d think I’d be fucking used to it by now but apparently it had to get worse for no fuxking reason#and now these past couple weeks I’ve felt less grounded in my body which is so fucking great bc that wasn’t really happening before#I decided to distract myself with video games after work but now I’m done playing and we’re back at square one#anyways I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight am I#sorry for the rant I just need to put this somewhere and have it be gone out into the world#thespian ramblings
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush”
Billy Hargrove never scared you.
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude.
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car.
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door.
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you.
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away.
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day.
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst.
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight.
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you.
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag.
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out.
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing.
“Wanna say that again?”
Your brows pulled in confusion.
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious?
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence.
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth.
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building.
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office.
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes.
I heard he keyed Billy’s car.
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up.
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making.
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough.
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating.
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside.
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette.
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap.
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets.
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you.
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood.
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile.
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked.
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out.
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.”
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal.
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.”
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.”
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile.
“You’ll have mine.”
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing.
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door.
—
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name.
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself.
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness.
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers.
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food.
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.”
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone.
You took a shot in the dark.
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?”
His jaw clenched and hands stopped.
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor?
But why?
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other.
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.”
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping.
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.”
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation.
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen.
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.”
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed.
Of course, that was what he took away.
“Billy,” you warned playfully.
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.”
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content.
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over.
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.”
Names.
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you.
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.”
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours.
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked.
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were.
He leaned his elbows on the table.
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.”
Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove x reader#Billy Hargrove x female reader#Billy Hargrove x fem!reader#Billy Hargrove x you#Billy Hargrove one shot#Billy Hargrove oneshot#Billy Hargrove fanfic#Billy Hargrove fanfiction#Billy Hargrove imagine#Billy Hargrove imagines
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💭 ׄ ︵͡ a little crush, c. beomgyu
꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝗌𝖿！𝖻𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎，𝖿𝗐𝖻？𝖬𝖤𝖠𝖭 𝖡𝖤𝖮𝖬𝖦𝖸𝖴 𝖲𝖴𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖢𝖸，𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋! 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗅𝗒，𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆，𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍？𝗀𝗒𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗍，𝖻𝖺𝖽／𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅，𝖾𝗍𝖼，𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽．edited！
[ 𝟣．𝟥𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ❤︎︎ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ❤︎︎ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]
"𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗧 𝗨𝗣," Beomgyu’s voice was hoarse and tired but his movements and touch was quite the opposite. Hands clawing and handling your figure as he pressed your face into the pillow in your bed. But no matter how much you hissed at you to stay quiet, with the way he was fucking into you from behind, you quite literally couldn't.
Your fingers desperately grasped onto the white bedsheets, eyes fluttering shut and brimming with thick, hot tears. Beomgyu’s rough hands angled your ass just right, hand on the back of your head and pressing you into the pillow with need; the deeper he fucked, the more he pushed you into the mattress below.
"G－Gyu!" Your muffled voice coming out in a whiny tone, despite the thickness of the pillow muffling your words, your voice was loud and only getting louder, "So... f-fucking deep—"
"Do you want Yeonjunnie to hear? Hm? You fucking slut, you want your big brother to catch you getting fucked by his best friend?" Beomgyu taunted, knowing it only fueled the fire rather than tame it. But a sick, sick part of him loved the thrill of it. Of never knowing when the two of you are going to be caught in the act.
It's the 3rd night in a row he's been staying at your house, for Yeonjun of course. Best friends, as they always said. Beomgyu was his best friend. You grew up thinking Beomgyu was the prettiest boy ever, always having a tiny crush on him (actually massive but you won't admit it). Seeing him every weekend was both the highlight and worst day of the week because of how nervous he made you — almost sickeningly to the point of tears.
When he joined soccer, your brother joined too which meant you went to all his games. You saw every time he’d run and laugh while you silently cheered off to the side. You saw him sweat and each time he lifted his shirt you damn near passed out. When Beomgyu had crushes you'd envy whatever girl he'd be swooning for. You knew he only saw you as the little nuisance Yeonjun had around; the sister, you thought. That was all. Apparently a one year age difference was enough to stop the world.
But not anymore. Not since you started college and every night you'd come home to Yeonjun and Beomgyu, also in college, mostly fucking around doing whatever boys do. Beomgyu suddenly caught a liking to you— his eyes following your movements with anything you did. And of course you noticed because, well, that's the guy you've been longing for practically your entire life. Every first you wished it was him, every crush was nothing compared to the desire you had for him. Obviously, the crush shrunk as the years went on, but there was always a part of you that begged for him.
He caught you in the kitchen one day. Your back turned so you didn't immediately see him. You were simply finishing up the dishes, wiping away the wetness on your hand and placing the last plate on the drying rack. Suddenly, two hands were pinning you to the sink, two very large hands on either side of your body, a low tone filling your ears.
"I heard you have a little crush."
And the rest was history.
"N-no! Can't help it, m'sorry— oh!" A particularly sharp thrust stabbed at your g-spot, the fluttering sensitivity making your eyes fall shut and your heart pound through your ears, "Beomgyu!" You cried out his name and in an instant his hand was pushing your head deeper into the pillow, stuffing your mouth with the cotton and letting the soft, suffocating fabric lull your voice.
"Then fucking learn," He growled into your ear as he let you up for air, whispers sharp as knives. And with that he began to fuck into your ass quicker, watching with wild eyes as your wet pussy devoured his cock with every pump. The precum dripping everywhere onto the sheets, down your thighs, even on his lower abdomen, everything was drenched, "Look at this fucking mess. Noisy and a messy girl... don't you have any manners?"
You cried, letting a pleasurable tear drip down your face and into your mouth. Beomgyu snickered sadistically, kissing the tear streak in a surprisingly soft way, going to your ear, "Bad girl, aren't you?"
There was a shuffling outside your bedroom door and within an instant your head shot up, eyes wild and wide. High alert as you tried to fight against Beomgyu's dominant hand, alas, he won, keeping your hair wrapped in his hand while his dick still fervently filled you up.
"W-who is it?" You blubbered out behind a hiccup, struggling to stay up and coherent. Beomgyu watched with intrigue, tongue flicking across his upper lip.
Yeonjun's voice was apparent and you had to curse yourself instantly, "Yeonjun. Y/n, everything okay in there? I thought I heard crying."
You instantly tried cover for yourself, "No, I'm fine! My b-back is just—" Beomgyu slammed into you, the wet slap of bodies meeting making you jolt and almost moan out, stopping yourself before the lewd sound left your lips, "It's s-sore."
Yeonjun shuffled but never left, "Are you sure? Can I come it to che—"
"No, no I-I'm fine!" You begged desperately, not wanting your brother to catch you being ruined by his own best friend.
"Oh...kay, then have you seen Beomgyu? He said he had to piss and then he disappeared," Yeonjun half snickered with obvious concern and confusion in his voice.
Beomgyu bent to your ear, tugging your head to the side, "Why don't you tell him how he's fucking into your pretty cunt right now, hm, love?"
You shook your head with teary eyes, cheeks red and eyes blurry from tears, "G—Gyu... can't!" You tried to whisper but it came out more as a incoherent babble of moans.
"What's that, Y/n?" Yeonjun questioned.
"N-nothing, I haven't seen him, Jun! F-fuck," You struggled against your own tongue, unraveling around Beomgyu’s dick piece by piece until you shivered and shook. Then you felt yourself cream around him, the hot nectar dripping down your thighs seamlessly in thick globs. Beomgyu felt you fall apart, pressing your entire face into the pillow and heaving out, begging you to stay quiet. Yet, there was that sinister smirk on his angular features.
"I'll go look for him!" Yeonjun called just as you unwinded and broke, shaking violently around Beomgyu’s cock with wavering consciousness.
Beomgyu cooed, "Hm, such a slut aren't you? Cumming before I even said you could? And with your brother right there... fucking whore."
You sobbed, reaching for his hand desperately, which he accepted. There was a soft moment shared as your fingers interlocked and he remained buried deep in your throbbing cunt. Then Beomgyu moved again, making you sputter and shake with overstimulation.
"I didn't say I was done, did I?" Beomgyu snickered, squeezing your hand as you listened to the tapping feet of Yeonjun just outside, searching for the very man ruining your organs at the moment.
#beomgyu choi#choi beomgyu#txt beomgyu#tomorrow by together#tomorrow x together#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt fanfic#txt smut#txt imagine#txt yeonjun#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu#beomgyu smut#beomgyu oneshot#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu hard thoughts
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4k celebration
congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.
i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴
we made up.
LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration
in which you can never just bite your tongue
eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3
songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink
2.6k words
you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.
after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.
maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?
it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.
you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.
“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.
“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.
it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.
“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.
“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.
“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.
there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.
-
turns out, you have to apologise.
you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.
so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.
but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.
“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.
“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.
“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.
“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.
“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.
the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.
you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.
“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.
“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.
your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.
“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.
“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.
“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.
truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.
as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.
“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.
“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.
“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.
“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.
“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.
an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.
“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.
his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.
once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.
“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.
“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.
“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.
“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”
“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.
he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.
“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.
lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.
“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.
“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.
“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”
with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.
“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.
sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.
“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.
“learned your lesson?”
“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.
you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.
still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.
“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.
“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.
you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.
“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.
you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.
“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.
“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.
he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.
“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”
you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.
“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.
“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.
those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.
“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.
you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.
you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.
-
two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.
when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.
“we made up.”
-
oof
-
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okok you can make this super fluffy or u can add smut if you’d like, i don’t have a preference. i also can literally see this in my head so i’m sorry if there’s too much lolol. but basically reader + the triplets have been best friends since they were like 6, but reader and nick are closest. she’s had a crush on matt for ages and basically matt finally realizes what he feels (even though anyone w two eyes could see) and kisses her, but they get caught by nick and matt kinda runs out, later being scolded by nick saying smtg like “why are you doing this? she doesn’t need you breaking her heart over and over again anymore.” after that he confesses and at first she thinks he’s fucking w her before realizing he’s being genuine
sandbox
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary - this rec ^^
warnings - kissing, fluff, swearing, use of y/n (i think thats all)
word count - 2400??
NOT PROOFREAD
-
me and the triplets have been best friends for as long as i remember. i honestly think i gained consciousness when i was with them. we have spent countless summers together just playing around outside. showing off our new toys, board games and just growing up together.
we were all inseparable from the moment i met them and have pretty much experienced everything with them. i was always super close with chris and he was even my first kiss at the ripe age of 8. nick and i met first during baseball practice and i was the only girl on the team. nick is my best friend in the whole world and that never changed as we grew up. matt and i are very different people. we always got along and played together as kids but as i grew up i developed feelings for him. i had an eye for him ever since we were 13 when he ditched his date and took me to 8th grade formal because no one else would. he was always my knight in shining armor.
i always thought he was attractive but as time went on i grew to love everything about him. i confided in nick about my feelings when i was 15 and have continued to express my feelings for matt to him. nick promised me that this would be the only secret he would ever keep from his brother and he has kept it for 2 years now.
which brings us to present day.
-
matt was driving me home from school since nick and chris were hanging out with their friends after school.
“did you see that amount of homework our history teacher gave us, i was ready to walk out the second she gave me that booklet.” i say. “oh i fucking know she can be ridiculous.” matt replies. he was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other tapping his fingers on the centre console to the music we were listening to. “matt.” i ask looking at the size of my booklet, “hmm?” he says watching the road. “do you think we can work on these together i really dont think i can get this done on my own.” i mumble, he chuckles looking over at me “i was just about to ask you the same thing.” he smiles.
“ok ill drive over later i need to do some things at home before i start homework.” i breathe. “sounds good.” he says.
once matt dropped me home i immediately began getting ready. although i would never admit it, i always tried my best to look my best when i was around matt. even though we have known each other for years i never wanted him to think i was unattractive.
growing up and watching the girls matt would take on dates and have all of those ‘firsts’ with always crushed me. he never knew it but he broke my heart countless times. the worst time was when we were 15 and he came to me nick and chris after hanging out with his first girlfriend and told us he lost his virginity. that was the night i confessed to nick my feelings for his brother. i spent the rest of that weekend crying in my room about matt when he did nothing to hurt me, i was just in my own head about loving him since i was 13. its safe to say nothing has changed since then and i have continued to be in love with him and i am now currently 17.
- later that night - 6:15 pm
i arrived to their house and walked in after being greeted by their mom and a hug from her. their mom treated me like my own as i was at their house more than i was at my own. she told me that there was dinner left over since chris and nick werent home if i wanted some.
of course all i wanted to do was just hangout with matt.
i made my way up the stairs to matts room to find him playing a game on his computer with headphones on. i walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. “oh y/n you scared the shit out of me.” he breathes clearly startled. i laugh and walk over to his bed and plop down on it. “i actually think i would rather step on nails for a day than do this history bullshit.” i sigh.
matt chuckles while shutting off his computer and grabbing his history booklet and sitting down on his bed. we both got right to work going from looking in our textbooks, to writing down answers, copying the answers from each other and wording them differently. we continued that same process for about an hour before my hand felt like it was going to fall off.
“oh my god matt i cannot do this anymore we need to take a break.” i sigh laying down on my back. “me too i think my head will explode if i keep going.” he agrees. i close my eyes and get comfortable in his bed while he grabs his phone and starts scrolling on it eventually turning it to my face “what do you think of her.” he asks showing me a girl that is in our history class. i just raise my shoulders in response. “words would be more helpful you know.” he chuckles. “i dont know shes the same as the past 3 girls you have been with.” i blankly reply. he hums in response and goes back to scrolling. “so helpful.” he says jokingly rolling his eyes.
“you never really like any of the girls i talk to huh?” he blurts. i freeze not knowing how to respond, i dont know matt maybe because ive been in love with you for years but your too stubborn to fucking notice it? i obviously wanted to scream I LOVE YOU AND I HAVE SINCE I WAS 13, at him but i didnt. my face goes blank and i just turn away from him and go back to resting my eyes even tho i know it wont last long. while me and matt had a great relationship as friends i always shut down when it came to moments like these. matt knows when something is wrong, all the fucking time. its frustrating in moments like these when i am literally mad at him for showing me a girl hes interested in but of course i cant tell him that.
“ok snap out of it what is your problem now?” he snaps. “matt i dont have a problem.” i state lying through my teeth. “anyone from a mile away can read that you are upset right now so just tell me what the issue is so i can fix it.” he pleads. “matt can you drop it.” i huff twars brimming my eyes, “no.” he pauses “why do you keep doing this, you always shut me out when theres a problem. i know that your upset and you know that i know your upset, just tell me whats wrong.” he explains.
“matt i cant.” i say as tears spill out. he lifts his hand to turn me over to see that im crying, his face saddens. i instinctually cover my eyes and sit up.
“theres clearly something wrong, what happened why cant you open up to me anymore.” he says. i sniffle and get up to use the bathroom. i couldnt stand to even look him in the eye. not knowing the strong feelings i have for him.
j went into the bathroom and broke down. i never broke like that in front of him before. every time this has happened i usually just go home and deal with it or complain to nick. this time i was looking him right in the eye and he saw what he made me feel. matts not and idiot he definitely knows why that upset me. if he didnt have a hunch that i was in love with him before he absolutely knows now. everything ive held in for the past 4 years has spilled out and i dont know how to handle what will happen when i walk back in to that room.
knock knock
“y/n can you open the door.” he says in a quiet tone. i put my hand on the handle and press my other hand to the door. “deep breaths” i keep repeating to myself. i crack the door open and matt sees me mascara on my face. puffy eyes and a sniffily mess. he grabs my face and either side and wipes away my tears. i just watch him as he does this. he moves forward to get closer and slowly connects our lips. i immediately melt into his touch and start kissing him back, wrapping my hands around his on my face.
we continue kissing as i wrapped my arms around his neck to bring him closer as he smiles into the kiss. i heavily breathe in as he slips his tongue into my mouth. my heart beats faster at the new feeling. i always imagined kissing matt but this is better than what i ever could have imagined. he moves one hand from my face and places it on my hip.
“what. the. fuck.” i hear nick say from behind.
we both stop and turn around and nick and chris standing behind us.
“nick please dont be mad.” i plead. “i will talk to you in a minute y/n” he says point at me “matt go to your room with me.” nick says sticking his hand in the direction of matts room.
matts pov
my heart was beating so fast as nick followed me into my room. kissing his best friend what was i thinking. she was my best friend too but their relationship was always closer but its still no excuse.
“what the fuck are you doing kissing y/n?” he yells, i open my mouth to speak but he interrupts me. “do you know how much you have fucked with her already.” he exclaims.
now im confused.
“you have been messing with y/n’s head for years now and you have spent the past four years breaking her heart over and over, she doesnt need you doing it again.”
i pause i thinking about his words rubbing my hands over my face.
“she has spent everyday loving you since we were 13 and has watched you countless times talk to girls and being girls around and she has always kept it in as to how she feels. unless you truly have feelings for her that to you was nothing. but matt, what just happened right there.” nick says shaking his head, “just might hurt her more than anything you could ever have done to her.” nick breathes before walking out of my room.
y/n’s pov
i walked into chris’ room after what happened and just cried as he watched me spiral. he surprisingly had nothing to say and the silence of the situation made it even worse. i was freaking the fuck out. i never anticipated kissing matt and especially not his brother, my best friend catching us.
nick walks in to chris’ room “y/n are you ok?” he asks. i look at him and just break down. he walks over and sits down on the bed with me and chris. chris friendly pats me on the shoulder and i smile at him “thanks chris.” i say and he gives me a warm smile.
we hear a knock on the door and see matt open it. “y/n please can i talk to you.” he says and nick looks at me with worry written all over his face. “its ok.” i whisper as i get up and nod at matt.
we close the door behind us and he begins. “nick just told me ive been breaking your heart since we were 13.” he breathes, “why didnt you say anything before.”
“matt i couldnt.” i say tears threatening to come out of my eyes again. matt looks at me with concern. “dont, dont look at me like that. you never felt anything for me now dont start now because you feel bad for me.” i say now feeling angry at him. “y/n but thats the thing, i always felt something for you. anyone with eyes can see that. you know that i never let any girl come into my presence without asking your approval, your the most important girl to me in the world nothing can ever change that.” he says looking at the ground. “bullshit.” i huff. “i dont believe you, if you really ever had feelings for me you would have seen that i loved you for 4 years.” i say tears pooling out of my eyes but i dont care, “4 years matt. ive been seeing you with girls for years envious of their life and then you pass them on like their nothing.” i say putting a finger to his chest. “4 years i had to keep this to myself to prevent it from ruining years of friend ship, not just between us but between your family.” i say pushing my finger on his chest harder and he steps back. “4 years that i had to get my heart broken by someone who didnt give a shit about me.” i say walking towards him now pushing him harder, crying even harder now.
he wraps his arms around me and i fight out of his grip. he doesnt let go as i stuggled but eventually i grow tired and just clutch on to him like if i let go i would fall. “im sorry.” he says petting my hair and i cry into his chest. “you know that i would never hurt you, you are the one person besides my brother that i care about the most.” he says resting his chin on my head. “i love you.” he says. i look up at him from his grip. i moved up to his face finding his lips and connecting them once more. this kiss more sweet than the last.
“ive waited to hear that since i was 13.”
-
thank you for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @accio326 @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry
a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed this and to the person who requested it i hope this lived up to your standards 🤍🤍🤍
#matthew bernard sturniolo#matty b sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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ALCOHOLIC LIES. | keira walsh
keira walsh x williamson!reader
genre: minor funny fluff, surprised love.
warnings: leah being made a fool, reader leah's younger sister, without many touches, not a romance-focused fic, drunk r.
notes: finally started writing again, i really wanted to write keira and r totally in love but i didn't have a better idea, soo i just made leah and r fight + defending her girlfriend. request
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's okay to date your sister's friend, right? Just keep it a secret... If you can.
“Every day I fall in love with you more and more. Except yesterday, yesterday you were pretty annoying.”
Earl E. Bird
❝ Hey, enough of that now, [reader]. ❞ Keira said as she removed the glass of alcohol from your fingers.
Reddened cheeks, sore expressive marks from the smile printed for so long and of course, the smell of the classic beer between the lips.
❝ Just one more round, please. ❞ The sly tone came out deliberately from your mouth, while you firmly grabbed one of the english's arms.
❝ Leave the child. It's been a while since she touched a bottle of alcohol. ❞ Stanway said between chuckles, also drinking.
❝ No?! Leah will kill me if she sees that I let her drink so much. ❞ It was very clear how desperate she was. ❝ And well… You know. ❞
❝ About the fact that she's going to go crazy not just because of this? ❞ The other english asked.
❝ Exactly. ❞
❝ I already said that Leah doesn't have to interfere in my life. ❞ You grumbled at your girlfriend’s negligence.
❝ Don't say it like that... ❞ Walsh was practically defending the english defender's side.
In fact, you were a little to blame for this whole situation and Keira was right. You should have told your sister from the first day you started dating.
And that's been five months.
It could even be a record, you could never keep a secret for that long. One day or another, Leah will find out.
❝ What the fuck are you whispering my name now? ❞ A mature and feminine voice rose from the beginning of the division between the living room and the kitchen.
❝ Nothing of your interest. ❞ You shout louder than usual.
Georgia and Keira burst into giggles at your sudden cheer.
The four of you were in Stanway's apartment, which was one of the main meeting points for drinks almost every weekend.
Leah and you were the famous dynamic duo of sisters, while the blonde english has a very strong personality, you are the complete opposite.
Seriously, it was actually a shock to Stanway when you took on Keira; You had gotten a girlfriend even before your older sister.
You two were also mostly known for fighting a lot; not just on the pitch. The defender is a completely protective woman when it comes to you.
Maybe because of her protective parental instinct; the fear of being hurt or even for reasons that Leah never told you.
And currently, Leah knowing about you and Keira would probably be the worst thing in the world. First, you lied to her and second, you're dating one of her friends.
❝ Gossiping about others is bad, you know? ❞ The older english made fun of your whispering to the girls, while bringing another bowl of snacks and placing it on top of the central table.
❝ I thought you said you didn’t care about other people’s opinions? ❞ You replied back.
❝ Shut up. ❞ Despite everything, Leah sometimes had a typical stupid attitude. ❝ Didn't you say you had already stopped drinking for today? ❞
Leah looked at Keira across the table, indirectly expecting some answer. After all, she was the one in charge of taking care of you.
❝ I tried. ❞ Walsh defended herself.
❝ Can you stop being like this? ❞ Your lips gestured in a sullen tone.
❝ There are two people older than you here and neither can take a drink from you. ❞ Leah was at least right.
❝ She's not seventeen anymore, Leah. ❞ Stanway opined. ❝ And theoretically it is you who should do this. ❞
Keira turned her eyes to you, eyes that conveyed the only understandable message: begging to stop drinking in Leah's company.
Pout with the lower lips, gradually turning into a short smile. Walsh's concern and advocacy was incredibly adorable.
It's a shame you can't give her a kiss in return.
❝ Okay, do whatever you want, then. ❞ The older blonde clearly didn't want to stress about the whole situation. The responsibility is yours from now on.
❝ Sheesh, you are worse than mom. ❞ You bantered.
❝ Fuck you? ❞ Leah grumbled, snacking on a snack from the bowl.
❝ You go. ❞ You countered.
It slowly turned into an exchange of insults, Walsh and Stanway just watched.
❝ You get ridiculously boring when you drink. ❞
❝ And you don't even have to touch alcohol to know that about you. ❞ That clearly must have hurt Leah inside. Mainly because of her open-mouthed expression.
Georgia tried to put an end to this. ❝ Can you two stop— ❞
❝ Get someone to be your personal babysitter before you say anything. ❞ The English defender spoke louder.
❝ I already have it. ❞ You said without thinking twice.
A regretful silence fell in the living room. And within seconds, you realized the shit you had said; your eyes almost explained.
It was very clear the reductive fear and surprise that hit Keira, especially because her face slowly turned towards you, in disbelief at what you said.
Everything went down the drain.
Stanway was different, she giggled. Because she knew exactly what was coming. ❝ Oh, shit. ❞ She murmured between giggles.
❝ Huh? ❞ It was a pretty loud noise, to be realistic. Eyebrows raised, lips half-open, Leah gradually seemed to squint, trying to understand. ❝ How is that? ❞
It took you exactly seven seconds to formulate some justification. ❝ I meant… ❞
❝ …You. ❞ You cleared your throat before saying that.
And Leah clearly didn't buy it.
❝ Shut up, liar. ❞ Williamson slowly came back to reality. ❝ Who? ❞
❝ Who what? ❞ Don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira. Play dumb.
❝ Don't act stupid. ❞ Leah replied.
Walsh kept contact with the glass on the table, touching her index finger to the rim of the glass as she begged you not to say anything. The last thing Keira would want was to die in Stanway's messy apartment.
Leah looked at Georgia. What no one told you is that Stanway can't keep secrets in front of Williamson. ❝ Did you know that? ❞
❝ Yes…? ❞ She replied.
And the defender looked at you again. Now worse, you told everyone in your social circle except Leah.
❝ You too? ❞ Referencing Walsh.
Anyone could confirm that she was very nervous. She avoided contact at first instance, and as Keira was at your side; her free fingers played with yours, anxiously under the table.
She just nodded in agreement.
❝ Why didn't you fucking tell me? ❞ Leah grumbled in her own way.
❝ Because you would be harassing me my whole life. ❞ You answered for Keira. In the first few weeks from now on, Williamson will make fun of you a lot. ❝ And you are very threatening. ❞
❝ No, I'm not. ❞ She defends herself. You were turning Leah into a children's story villain.
You looked back at Keira. The alcohol was like a river in your body, alcohol was so effective that it made you the most shameless person in the world. And you must do this.
❝ It's Keira. ❞ You gestured your lips without any fear.
Eyes wide, eyebrows raised and so scared that she seemed to have heard the worst thing in the world; what it actually had been. ❝ What?! ❞
It had been so sudden that Walsh didn't believe it the first time. You crossed your arm around her neck, bringing her closer to you.
If Leah had the onset of a heart attack, you can be sure she would have had an attack right then and there. It wasn't like she didn't like you dating, in fact, Williamson was just afraid of the consequences.
But the fact that Walsh's name was mentioned instead of someone stupid or unknown relieved Leah.
The english defender knew her, which meant she also had knowledge of her previous relationships. And to be honest, Keira Walsh was the best person to date.
However, at the moment, this information was not very useful. Especially when your field of vision only had Leah in shock.
❝ Are you fucking my sister? ❞ Williamson desperately released the words from his lips.
❝ Fucking is a very bad word. ❞ Keira murmured back.
Again, silence remained in the middle of the table. Stanway just blatantly watched the three of you argue, you hugged Walsh with one arm and Leah seemed to think about her words.
❝ Fine. ❞ Leah said with an understandable intonation.
❝ Fine? ❞ You questioned back, after all, such an attitude from your sister was the least expected.
❝ It could be worse, for example, if it were Geo. ❞ This caused Stanway to choke on her own drink, forcing the glass onto the table.
❝ Hey! ❞
Leah stretched her arms and laid her back completely on the floor, grunting, probably tired from all this.
You looked first at Stanway, who still seemed affected by the blonde's comment, wiping her mouth; your eyes moved to Keira's face, giving her a victorious smile.
Your arm used to pull your girlfriend away, slowly moving towards Walsh's long fingers and intertwining them. ❝ You was the only one who didn't know, but now everything is great. ❞ You reported it.
❝ What? Was I the last to know? Why always me?! ❞ Leah stood up so quickly that her knees hit the bottom of the table.
❝ To be honest, I was going to tell you once, but you never have patience. ❞ Keira replied. ❝ And you would probably hit me with a chair for dating [reader]. ❞ The english bantered, but there was a little truth in her speech.
❝ No, never! I just think it's funny that you started dating before me. ❞ Leah said pointing at you. ❝ Anyway, I hope you don't do anything bad. ❞ Williamson spoke in a not-so-enthusiastic tone indirectly to you know who.
Walsh was finally able to rest her face on the side of your neck, crossing one of her arms over yours for support. ❝ You've known me for years! It feels bad to say something like that to me. ❞ She murmured.
The three of them laughed, it was the typical humor of long-time friendships that you weren't used to yet.
Leah coming to terms with your relationship was a huge relief. You placed a peck on the top of Keira's head before hugging her. ❝ We should celebrate Leah not killing us… You know. ❞ You sounded like a drunk.
❝ This is just an excuse to drink more, right? ❞ Yes, exactly. Stanway was right.
Williamson rolled her eyes before pushing the last bottle of beer onto the table. ❝ Ask your babysitter for permission. ❞
❝ Leah! ❞
❝ What? ❞ The defender said between laughs.
❝She's not my babysitter. ❞
Of course, Keira Walsh no longer needed to hide behind the playful nicknames that Leah always gives. After all, she was now your girlfriend; no more secrets.
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Overwhelming // Mafia!Stucky x fem!Reader
Summary: It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.
Prompt: How would the boys help Reader through a subdrop?
Requested by: @southern-goth (thank you so much for the request! And for the amazing header that I’ve included in your previous request, I love it!)
Tags: sfw, polyamory, subdrop, dom/sub relationship, mentions of rough sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, aftercare (lots!!), soft steve & bucky, crying/anxiety, size difference, pet names, praising, kissing
Words: 2.8k
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The night was filled with restless tossing and turning from the edge of the bed. There was nothing in particular that you could definitely pinpoint as the reason for the unease but you saw every hour of the night.
Even as Bucky’s warm, solid body found yours across the bed, his mind still deep within the sleep world, he still enveloped himself around you. Normally, the strong beat of his heart against your ear, even his natural musk would be enough to make you feel safe and relaxed in your own peaceful sleep.
However as the clock ticked to 04:30 am, all hope was lost for the land of rest and as you found yourself needing to turn in Bucky’s arms once more, the decision was made. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping gang member, you inched out from underneath his metal arm, gently laying it back down on the bed.
Stretching out your body, you had to refrain from sighing, for no reason in particular. There was a heavy feeling settled through the centre of your chest, making your body feel heavy and weighted, almost making it an effort to even find the energy to stand.
But you pushed yourself to stand, needing to move and shake off whatever feeling had been disturbing your sleep. Deciding to go and make a coffee, you gave one last glance at the two men still sleeping, usually feeling a happy calm at being able to witness them both look so peaceful. However, your gut twisted, a lump forming in your throat that took a moment to pass.
Exiting the bedroom, your steps were slow and dragging along the carpet. Confused as to why you were feeling upset, almost like there was a rain cloud hovering over your head.
Waiting for the coffee to heat, your mind began to wonder, trying to deduce what might be wrong but in reality, you were already aware, it had just never been this impactful before.
It had been your birthday a few days ago, Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party however, it was the nighttime activities that might have been the cause for your emotions. Not only were you the centre of attention during the fucking but it had been long, intense, mind-blowing sex that left you begging for more, of which your boyfriends were happy to oblige.
The mental headspace that a session like that gave you felt almost euphoric, nothing could be negative, even falling into a little bit of subspace following it, giving the sensation of floating, like being drunk. Then a couple of hours later with the unbalance of hormones (something Bucky had to explain), it would feel like depression with how low your mood would go as you experienced a subdrop. Luckily you were never far from the boys who regularly checked in on you anyway to give the support you desperately needed.
Concluding that this was the cause for how you were feeling, you should have contemplated waking either one of your boyfriends but the shame seemed to overpower any rational thought. You were your own worst enemy during these subdrops and the added exhaustion that was influencing your body, it was a toxic pair.
Steve and Bucky had made the weekend so incredibly special for you, every moment had a smile permanently stitched to your face so for it all to come crashing down and be this needy, depressed person, you were embarrassed and ashamed. The feeling would pass, and it always did so making the decision to just suck it up and keep it to yourself, they’d already done so much for you.
As you poured the now steaming hot coffee into the cup, you heard the recognisable sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind and rather than being excited and giddy which was usually your reaction to your boyfriends, the heavy sensation only increased in your chest.
Unbeknownst to Steve, he padded into the kitchen, smiling upon seeing you with fresh coffee. Walking up behind your much shorter body, his hands cupped your hips, gently pulling you back into his muscular build, his handsome face dropping to give a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Good morning baby”, his voice was thick with sleep, croaking slightly. Trying to play along with it, leaning into his warmth, even though you wanted to run away and cry so he couldn’t see.
“Morning”.
As Steve spoke, he manoeuvred around you, finding his own cup to pour coffee into. “You’re up early, how are you feeling this morning?” his question was innocent but it caused your heart to pound.
“I’m fine”, you were thinking coherent thoughts to be able to think of an excuse for being up so early, usually being the last to rise. “How are you? Are you off to the gym?” referring to his attire and it wasn’t like he was travelling far with the homemade gym in the basement.
A subtle frown momentarily crossed over his expression at the monotone way you were answering his questions but he shrugged it away, you would tell him if something was wrong, putting it down to tiredness. “Yeah, need to work off some of the cake from this weekend”, he joked, a twinkle forming in his eye. “After that, I’m all yours”.
“I had you all weekend”, you were quick to take a drink of your coffee, even as it was too hot and slightly scorched your tongue. Steve squinted at you in curiosity, noting your flat tone once more.
“You can have me every second of every day if that makes you happy” he admitted softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. It did make you happy but with the mood you were in, you felt selfish and guilty for this. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m just tired, I might go back to bed”, this was a lie but he seemed to accept it, kissing your cheek once more for comfort and then heading off towards the gym. Finally being on your own, and getting what you wanted it would be an assumption to presume this would make you feel any better but it only made you feel worse. Not realising just how much you were depending on his warmth and the coolness returning to your skin as you sulked into the living room, turning on the TV to a random channel, not paying attention at all.
No, instead you stared into space, holding one of the decorative cushions to your body to try and fill the void that was aching your chest but this of course did nothing. The longer you were awake, the worst you were continuing to feel, emotionally and physically.
It was almost like being hungover, the anxiety that follows a heavy drinking session and the fatigue from the effects of alcohol, except there was no alcohol involved and you were feeling all of these effects just from a hormone imbalance.
As you continued to sit in your pity, Bucky had begun to descend the stairs in joggers and a white shirt, following the noise of the TV to find you sitting on the couch. He didn’t say a single word or notice the off-mood and simply reached your head over the back of the couch, tipping it back to peck your lips.
His touch had caused you to jump slightly having been lost in your thoughts and not heard him approaching but he was already walking into the kitchen, probably to pour his own morning drink, like he did every morning.
As if right on queue, the hulking form of the brunette returned to your eye line, smiling before taking a sip of his black coffee as he sat next to you. “What are you watching, mama?”
The lump had returned to your throat so instead of answering him, you shrugged your shoulders, not even looking at the TV, knuckles adding to the discomfort with how aggressively you held onto the pillow as if it was your lifeline.
Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew were off the moment he saw you on the sofa, alone. Even without the glazed-over look in your eyes or the tension in your shoulders, he had known you for long enough to know what was going on. Carefully placing his cup onto the small table between the TV and the couch, Bucky sighed in frustration. Not that you were in this situation, but because you hadn’t come to him or Steve, wishing your anxiety would understand that they wanted to help and wouldn’t be annoyed or aggravated by you just simply needing them more than other days.
It was half expected anyway following the weekend, that's why Steve and Bucky had made sure that they were home today rather than in the office, making sure only to be contacted in case of emergency.
Not that this had even crossed your mind at all this morning, in fact, if asked, you couldn’t name what day it was in the week because all that consumed your mind was the hope for Bucky to get up and leave. Hope that he would find something he actually enjoyed doing instead of wasting another hour with you.
Of course, this was ridiculous thinking and if Bucky truly knew what was going through your self-sabotaged thoughts, he would probably sit you down for three hours and rant about how absurd and untrue this was.
“How are you feeling after the birthday weekend, it was slightly intense wasn’t it?” he asked casually, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.
“A bit”, was your only answer.
He continued to try and ask questions, hoping to draw some kind of a reaction of out you to engage just how severe this subdrop was and so far, it wasn’t looking that positive. “Does it hurt anywhere?”
Again, he referred to the activities from the weekend. Your response was half a shake of the head to say no but that was mostly for his benefit, desperate to not have him feeling bad because, in reality, your body was aching. Especially between your legs and upper arms from where they held you in a firm grip. It wasn’t like they hadn’t prepped but they were so much bigger than you, it always felt a little uncomfortable the day after and yesterday, you’d been begging for them to keep going, thriving in the pain mixed with pleasure. However now as the arousal was swept from your body, and feeling as fatigued as you did, it only emphasised the areas that were especially sensitive.
Judging by your demeanour, he contemplated continuing talking to you, to better understand the stand-offish behaviour but with the slight tremble rocking your body, this wasn’t what you needed.
Bucky instead opted to reach for the pillow, attempting to pull it away but you held on tightly, muttering that it was comfortable. The brunette didn’t relent, however, putting a little more strength until the pillow was firmly in his grip and being placed on the table.
Without missing a beat, Bucky was gently pulling on your arms, coaxing you into his lap. Before you could even straddle his hips, you began to sob, the emotions finally overwhelming you.
Grasping his shirt tightly, you cried heavily into Bucky’s t-shirt and he just held you, running his warm hand up and down your spine in slow circles whilst his metal hand rested on the back of your head.
You cried and cried until completely exhausted and only hiccups remained, eyes now sore and Bucky’s t-shirt soaked. Your boyfriend hadn’t asked you any further questions, he didn’t need to, having been right about his theory, Bucky knew you just needed to be close and present with him and Steve once he returned from the gym.
“You’re safe mama, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you”. Bucky repeated these four statements repeatedly, over and over until his mouth was dry and even then continued until his fists loosed the grip of his t-shirt.
“I know you’re going to be feeling some negative emotions right now Doll but I need you to listen to me and believe what I’m saying. We love you, this feeling is going to pass and we’ll be right next to you the entire time.”
Bucky’s words did help to break down that mental barrier but now you were completely exhausted.
“What we are going to do first is go upstairs, I’m going to run you a hot bath then we’ll have some food, maybe have a midday nap, we can watch a movie or play a game. We are going to take today slowly but we’re not leaving your side, not until you’re feeling better, ok?”
With your eyes closed, you were only able to nod against his chest in response. His list of activities sounded perfect, the desire to run away having completely disappeared now which you were thankful for but it was only replaced with the sensation to be cradled to his body.
Luckily for you, Bucky knew this and was more than happy to mostly carry you up the stairs and into the master bathroom, settling you into the bathtub, and helping to discard your clothes before filling it up with water hot enough to relax your tense muscles. Bucky himself didn’t climb into the bath, instead sat on the floor, stroking his fingers across your head exactly how you liked it, smiling as your furrowed brows relaxed.
You could have fallen asleep right there and then, until Steve’s voice was drifting into your ears as he stood at the bathroom door, sweat dripping from his brow. “Everything ok?”
For the first time that day, you properly looked at Bucky, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of him having to tell Steve about the subdrop. But your boyfriend was quick to swipe away the negativity as he said in a low voice, “Remember what I said downstairs? About the list of activities, we’re doing today? Well Stevie here is going to take my place here and I’ll go and cook us some brunch, how does that sound?”
Surprisingly, the corner of your lips lifted into a subtle smile. Bucky beamed at this, the corner of his eyes creasing with the joy he was displaying before he reached across the kiss the tip of your nose and speak to Steve.
You couldn’t hear what was said but Steve was soon joining you in the bathroom and you sat and watched silently as he took off his gym attire. “Enjoying the view baby?” he asked teasingly before helping you to sit forward, giving him room to sit behind you in the water, eagerly pulling your body back to rest against his. “I love you” he whispered as he held you tightly.
If you weren’t so exhausted, you probably would have cried at even that smallest statement because it was all you wanted to hear.
Turning slightly in his embrace, once again you didn’t feel like talking, even though you wanted to repeat your love to him just as much as you had wanted to with Bucky, the words seemed to fail you. So instead you lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat thumping against your ear. Steve understood your intentions, knew these little signs that showed your vulnerability and made sure to tighten his grip slightly, making you feel enclosed more.
Unsure of how much time had passed, Steve eventually had to move the two of you to make sure you were both washed before the water cooled too much. Then once out of the water, he didn’t waste any time helping to dry your body in a large cream towel, dressing you in oversized pyjamas before even starting to care for himself. As the two of you returned downstairs, Bucky announced that brunch was nearly finished and from the smell, it was going to be delicious.
Throughout the entire time, you were attached to either Steve or Bucky, whether that was holding a hand or sitting on either of their laps and they made sure you didn’t do any chores such as washing up. It was important that you rested when feeling this low so straight after finishing the food, they situated into the living room, finding the TV still on from earlier.
You weren’t particularly bothered with whatever movie was selected. No, you were more distracted by the hulky sandwich they’d somehow squashed you into. Your legs were thrown over Steve’s lap, head laying on his shoulder and Bucky was spooning you from behind, it felt like there wasn’t one part of your body that wasn’t touching both of them and you loved it, not even needing a blanket to feel secure in.
Sleep came peacefully now, the ache in your chest having eased after all the comfort you’d been given. Your last thoughts before succumbing fully to sleep were how thankful you were to Steve and Bucky, looking forward to waking up with more energy so you could show them just how much you really loved them.
#mafia au#mafia steve rogers#mafia bucky barnes#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky banes fanfic#mine*#bucky#marvel one shot#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes smut
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ChatGPT is going to ruin America's already crumblimg physical infrastructure. Listen.
One of the most socially important but professionally neglected fields of writing is tech writing. Outlining complex topics in clear and concise language requires a lot of skill and a lot of hard work, which people are going to ignore in favor of fictioneers and poetasters like moi b/c tech writing just isn't glorious and glam enough or w/e I guess
But I've seen what happens when you hire a shit tech writer, and it's Real Bad. The s&p books for soil analysis in the US are some of the worst written documents I've ever had the displeasure of reading. They're all circuitous and illogical and weirdly verbose (?) and are generally difficult to read and don't make a lot of sense. I translate ancient poetry from dead languages into English for fun on the weekends and they cross my eyes after a page or two. I've watched techs, engineers, and a whole-ass CMEC inspector sit around and debate the s&p's like a gaggle of Wise An Learnèd Clarkes tackling verses of scripture. And it takes a million years to train new people on the job because even the college kids need to be hand-held through these fucking medieval-grimoire-ass rulebooks.
And we're responsible for your roads, your bridges, your sewers, and the foundations of your houses.
I don't feel especially threatened by ChatGPT as a fictioneer because the world is already full of sophists. But I'm indie; I don't have a boss trying to cut corners. Tech writers are going to be in serious trouble, and when the tech writers are gone, we're all in serious trouble.
I'm afraid we're going to sophistrate ourselves into a world where nobody understands how anything works
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cherry pie → Vinnie Hacker x best friend!female!reader
summary: in which Vinnie risks it all whilst baking a cherry pie on stream
warnings: friends to lovers trope, Vinnie being insecure, few swear words. fluff ofc :)))
a/n: stopped writing because I got no engagement with my writing, no reblogs or comments, something that creators on this platform thrives on. This is not Instagram, you can’t spam like a creators posts and think that it’ll do anything, because honestly it’s all discouraging. with that in mind, i will block spam liking because it does nothing.
word count: 0.9k
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You loved Vinnie, ever since you two met it was love at first sight. You both were shy in nature, but the moment you were introduced you were so sure you’ve met someone from your past life. The conversation between you two came easily, no awkwardness, just a melody each time your eyes met.
Vinnie was special, his hand grasping yours so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd. Always keeping a napkin in his pocket since you always seemed to spill something. He often found himself comparing you to the sun, but quickly realized that not even the big star above his head came close in comparison to you. Vinnie loved you too.
Both of you kept silent, choked laughs and glances to one’s direction when the other wasn’t looking.
It was clear to everyone else, the love of which was growing everyday keeping you both prisoners in its grasp.
Vinnie was convinced he’d die if he never admitted it, his chest tightening as his heart grew and doubled its beats when you were around. But he was terrified of losing you if he spoke the truth, so he hid, despite his world crumbling every time another content creator asked for your number, which you always declined with a reserved smile, the smile you promised Vinnie was his.
—————————
Vinnie wanted to do something different for his upcoming stream that weekend. Instead of playing the usual games he wanted to bake a cherry pie with you, and you immediately agreed before the tattooed blonde finished his sentence. So there you were, flour coating your cheeks and clothes after Vinnie decided to throw some at you.
The whole kitchen was a mess, eggs and crushed cherries staining cupboards and clothes. Vinnie’s eyes were on you whilst you spoke to the viewers. You were a mess, but you looked so fucking beautiful with that smile that Vinnie would die for. He scolded himself when his thoughts crafted a world in which you stood before him, dressed in white and his ring on your finger. It stung, so deeply that he had to take a deep breath to come back to reality, the reality where you were only his friend and nothing more.
He remembered Noah telling Vinnie how he was his own worst enemy, and now he wholeheartedly agreed as he watched you in this perfect light, a beckoning for him to tell you his deepest secrets, but yet his tongue remained still and a bitter feeling grew in his stomach as he continued to watch you.
You were his opposite. Vinnie bore a dark cloud over his head, sometimes it’d rain or thunder, but now it was merely there, darkening his thoughts while you radiated sunshine and warmth. He stood no chance.
You gave the blonde a soft tap on his inked arm to bring him back from wherever his mind traveled to, something you were used to see happening. “You still with us?” You whispered, a smile on your lips but your eyes held a spark of concern.
To play it cool, the blonde gave you a wink with a cheeky smile, “for you? "Always." He looked back to the monitor so he could read the chat, but every time you let out a laugh his mind wandered to that special place again.
“Honestly, it looks pretty good,” you spoke as you glanced down at the cherry pie. “Why do you sound so surprised?” He laughed, knocking his shoulder softly into yours.
“Vin, have you met us?” He had to agree on that one. “Besides I’m no chef, and you’re always distracted,” because of you, he wanted to interrupt with, but he bit his lip to force the words back down his throat. “And when you’re not; you play around too much.” You continued.
He turned back to the chat with a exaggerated smile and waved his arms around, “you heard it here folks, Y/n and I are no longer friends,” you quickly grabbed his arms with a giddy laugh, “finally!” He stopped and turned to look down at you. “Bullshit, you love me too much.” He looked serious, but the corner of his lips twitching gave it away.
“Yeah, of course I do. Gonna marry you one day.” You mumbled but Vinnie heard it loud and clear. “Don’t say that.” He quipped. His heart was doing painful somersaults in his chest. “I’m serious, don’t joke about that.” He was sweating as he spoke, his voice shaking with each word. His stream had been long forgotten as you stood in front of him, eyes staring into his.
“Vinn-“ He didn’t let you finish. He compared it to blacking out as he told you how much pain he was in simply because you existed, and how he didn’t mind the pain because it made him feel alive. He came to when you told him how important he was to you too. “I can’t lose you Vin, I’m so scared that I’ll-“ he grabbed your face and quickly pulled you into a toe curling, passionate kiss. A kiss that warmed his heart and he could feel the cracks patching together. Your hands gripped his waist as the kiss continued to grow more passionate, and then you quickly pulled back in panic. “The stream!”
“Fuck em’” he smiled and pulled you back in for another breathtaking kiss. He couldn’t help the laughs escaping him as the kiss continued. He never felt like this and he knew that he would do anything to keep you in this life.
———-
comments and reblogs makes a different!
#𝖒– writings ೃ࿔₊• ✉️ ✰❛#vinnie hacker <3#vinnie hacker#vinnie imagines#vinnie x y/n#fluff#vinnie hacker fluff#vinnie x reader#vinnie hacker imagines#vinnie hacker blurb#vinnie hacker x reader#vincent hacker#tiktok#hype house#vinnie fanfic#vinnie hacker x you#vinnie hacker x female!reader#vinnie hacker fanfic
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pacifier (s.b.)
pairing: sirius black x younger potter! reader
summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. plus, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?
warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, cocky sirius and like kind of an annoying younger sister reader (but also that's literally me lol), bad transitions between light hearted banter and angst but i'm trying my best RIP, i imagine sirius to be mid-20s and reader only 3/4 years younger (but everyone is OF AGE), mommy issues if you squint
wc: 5.4k+
note: soooo i'm back :D again :D i'm almost done with second year and actually somewhat ahead with all my papers (with very minimal finals; def recommend being a history major x) and i've just been missing the community so enjoy this! i had this first chapter posted a while back (like maybe a year) but it was actually ass so i've redone it a little :)))) as always, reblogs and comments are MUCH appreciated and i can't wait to interact w/ y'all over this because i have been DAYDREAMING about brother's bf sirius :')
“What do you mean he’s working at the shop as well?!” you screeched, chasing your Mother around the kitchen, feeling a lot like the pesky youngest child you were.
“He needs some help so we offered to give him a job. Honestly sweetheart, aren’t you too old for this childish feud?”
“Too old? Shouldn’t you be saying that to him? He’s like– thirty or something, and still continues to be the bane of my existence. Fucking Bla–”
Your Mother whirled on you abruptly, brandishing the wooden spoon she was about to stir the boiling pot with right in your face. “Language, missy! I would tell him the same thing, but unluckily for you, you’re my daughter and currently living under my roof, so you get to hear it first.” She gave you a saccharine sweet smile, the kind that had you biting back the urge to stomp your feet and pout at her until she gave in. Unfortunately for you, that hadn’t worked since you were about six years old.
“--now, he’s been gone for such a long time, and we’re all very excited to see him, so don’t ruin this reunion with any more of your tantrums.”
You opened your mouth, intent on not letting the argument die there, but your Father bounded into the kitchen at the same moment, ruffling up your hair with a “Hey there, kiddo,” before promptly moving on to snake his hands around your Mother’s waist. “Looking as beautiful as always, my dear,” he cooed into her ear. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle that had you bolting from the kitchen before you were scarred any further.
Your parents’ tooth-aching affections for each other were just that: sweet, but sickly all the same. Deep down, you knew you yearned for a romance like theirs, something genuine but passionate, able to withstand the test of time (and your ever-dwindling patience). James, your older brother, had found it with Lily, their son Harry being a product of their young but no less intense love.
And you loved that kid like he was your own. Would beg James to let you come over, play with the babbling toddler for a few hours, would even offer up your weekends, encouraging the young couple to “go out, live a little!”. But they were about as infatuated with their own child as you were, and had a never-ending supply of friends who were equally as eager to help out.
Speaking of, one of those eager friends was currently pounding his stupid fist against your stupid front door, and you were already riled up from the news that you couldn’t take seeing his face physically in front of you, as well.
You shoved past James, knocking him back a step as his hand reached for the door to let his best mate in. You caught a glimpse of him on the doorstep, the first in almost two years– hair unruly like he’d just rolled out of bed, long, black strands; newly tanned skin blushing under the heat of the sun; those thick, brooding eyebrows that raised up in your direction – eughh.
“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” James called at your retreating figure, shouting loud enough to be heard over your heavy footsteps despite the carpeted floor.
“Ask your best mate over there!” you answered back with a bite, slamming your room door shut.
“Fuck,” he sighed, defeated, yanking his confused friend in and a chucking a thumb towards the stairs. “How’ve you managed to piss her off before you even got here?” he asked incredulously. “Peace– we had peace in this house for the past two years since you’ve been off travelling, and now look–! It’s a bloody riot!”
“Oi– I’ve done nothing,” he moaned indignantly, hanging his coat and scarf on the gold-crested hooks by the door. “--I think,” he added for good measure after a beat.
He never understood why the two of you struggled to get along. You’d grown up together, spent every waking moment in each other’s presence when he was at the Potter residence (which happened to be just about always given his own family situation). In theory, he should be like some sort of older brother figure– someone to loan out advice and shoulders to cry on and all that jazz.
But no. Something about you and your irritatingly know-it-all personality, or shrill voice when indignant (which was rather often around him), or your need to always be right – something about you made it so he just had to tease you endlessly until you were yelling, voice all pitchy, nostrils flared, breath heavy and face blotchy. When things would begin to die down, he’d find something else to point out, argue back, hit the nail on your specific head– something to really push you that little bit over the edge.
It was a little too fun to not try to get a rise out of you every time you were together. And as much as Sirius was aware that the jabs each of you threw had gotten a little more out of hand and a little less appropriate for your relationship– he just couldn’t stop.
The rest of the Potter family didn’t share your sentiments about Sirius, and rather adored him immeasurably. Had since he’d taken to hiding out in their house after a particularly brutal fight at home when he was only eleven. Heck, he’d even attended every Potter-family gathering, dinner, birthday, you name it, since then. It was why he came over every Sunday for a roast, pudding and some chat – he could never put into words what your family had done for him, the safety, security, home, even, they'd given him when he’d been lost and entirely clueless of what a real family looked like.
So he made the thirty-minute drive, every Sunday, much to your irritation. He plastered on the biggest smile for your Mum, complimenting every minute detail of the meal she cooked for the family, drank a glass of whiskey and smoked a cigar with your Dad; he was even Harry’s favourite, always humming quiet melodies into the youngest Potter’s ear.
With him travelling the world for the past almost-two-years, he’d missed out on the family time he usually looked forward to every weekend. Mondays seemed a lot less dreadful after having a belly-full of Mrs Potter’s food. Still, he’d sent postcards and printed pictures of everywhere he went, the sights he’d seen, people he’d met. It wasn’t the same, not without the lot of you to pester him (maybe you especially) but he’d needed some time to find himself.
He still wasn’t sure if he’d found what he was looking for, but the money had to have run out eventually so he was back home, ready to work and settle down in his life for once after graduating Hogwarts.
Sirius followed James into the living room where he found Lily, sipping on a glass of red, sitting by the empty fireplace. Instead, a window had been cracked in to let the temperate wind in.
She perked up as they entered, waving with that soul-wrenching smile of hers that could persuade even the most strong-willed of men into submission.
“Pads, you’re back!” she called from her seat. "And you've grown a moustache-- interesting choice of facial hair." Sirius, however, raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, ignoring her greeting-slash-judgement as he peered into the empty crib by her side, even going as far as to search under it as if the toddler might have escaped.
“Harry’s gone to bed in the guest room. There was a bit of a shouting match before you arrived,” James explained, sinking into the space beside his wife and pulling her into his side. “Actually, now that I think about it, there was a lot of shouting after you arrived as well!”
Lily snorted, snuggling into her husband without hesitation, and Sirius couldn’t help but avert his eyes, feeling entirely like he was imposing on an intimate moment as the two of them whispered in the other’s ear.
“Well, don’t mind me. Sitting here, all by my lonesome, no company or polite chatter to partake in, not even my dashing god son to entertain me” he sighed, dramatically, to no one in particular. James rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics, chucking a frilly throw-pillow at his face (that’s what they’re for, right?) which he just as easily caught.
“Har-Har! Ever the clown, Paddy,” James mocked, flipping him off just in time for his Mum to walk in and see.
“James! Don’t aim such crude displays at my son,” she scolded, wrapping her wrinkled arms around Sirius’ shoulders from behind his chair. She leaned down, kissing the top of his head affectionately. Sirius only whimpered in agreement, leaning into her motherly touch and whining on and on about how James was being a right bully.
“My sweet child, I’ve missed you!” She beamed down at him, and that longing Sirius sometimes felt for his own Mother’s approval, her devotion or fondness, it lessened.
“But you didn’t– He was just!-- You missed– arghh!” James groaned defeatedly, head flailed back to rest against the sofa, receiving no sympathies from his giggling wife and glaring Mother. “I’m starting to understand why she hates you.”
Sirius’ eyes flashed at that– did you really hate him? Had it gotten to that point?
At the mention of your name but current absence, Mrs Potter ordered, “Go call your sister for dinner, I’ve set the table.”
He began to protest, failing to come up with a half-decent reason why he can’t walk up the two flights of stairs and pull your petulant frame from your bed– but Sirius interrupted in time, before James could make any more of a fool himself in front of his own Mother. “I’ll go get her. Got to figure out what I did this time,” he offered coolly.
Euphemia, that is, Mrs Potter, had a strict no-apparting rule in her house, had lost too many expensive vases from James and Sirius’ apparition-sprees the second they’d turned seventeen. You already had your licence, having been of legal age for some time, and had, since graduating (top of the class, as you tended to point out, much to your Ravenclaw friends’ dismay) from Hogwarts, found a job at a school in the muggle world, teaching children English Literature in preparation of some exam. O Levels, you’d called them.
Sirius thought it to be some sort of torture device - these O Levels – but you’d smacked him across the head in admonishment with the book in your hand – you were always carrying one, though he designated them to be a weapon, at least when in your possession – before he could say much else. Having a family-run bookshop made it so that the books, or the weapons, really, were in endless supply for you, much to Sirius’ chagrin.
Your love for reading had come from him, your Father, from when he’d stay up till the late hours of the night, hushed whispers under your bed sheet so your Mother wouldn’t hear, as he read you the Classics in animated voices that had you completely enchanted. He made sparks fly from the tip of his wand, bright colours that your little eyes couldn’t quite get enough of.
You loved being a wizard, were eternally grateful for the world you lived in and the undeniable awe of it all. But words, books, literature – they were enough magic for you, took you to places you could only ever dream to visit, and had you feeling such all-consuming emotions that sometimes, you wondered if you’d ever make it to the end of the page, or chapter, or book.
“Oi– your Mum’s put out dinner, she’s calling you downstairs,” he called through the thick wood of your door.
Sirius didn’t know why he was nervous. It was you, the little girl he’d watched grow up and had grown up with. But if the short glance he’d gotten of your stomping person as you huffed up the stairs was any indicated, you were by no means little anymore.
Funny what a few years can do to a person, huh.
He nudged it open when you didn’t respond, only to find you slumped across your bed, glaring, silently, at the ceiling and the pale-orange light emanating from the lamp on your bedside table.
You certainly looked different– older, possibly? He couldn’t quite place what had changed, only that he knew something had. In the way you dressed, styled your hair, held yourself. Even the look of your room– no longer plastered in butterflies and pink roses, but instead painted a burnt umber and with tapestries and muggle band posters hanging across every wall. A stack of vinyls were shoved into one side of your room, along with piles and piles of books, some old and missing a few pages, while others were untouched.
You heard the door click open, sitting up on your elbows to see a smirking Sirius, oozing an annoying amount of confidence, and leaning against your doorframe.
Something in your chest stumbled almost immediately. He looked the same, behaved the same as well. Still the Sirius that had left to see the world, leaving the rest of you behind. Though, he might’ve managed to actually tan, now that you really looked at him, imagining the broad planes of his shoulders, hidden by a thin linen button up, were more sun-kissed than milky-pale now.
Except you refused to even entertain the thought. You were not thinking of him or his skin or his bare chest or--
“What’s with the face?” you asked, already knowing you’ll regret the answer.
“Was that meant to be a greeting?” His eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Hi Sirius-- what’s with the face?” you answered, again, between clenched teeth.
“Nice pair of panties you got on there, bright pink, are they?” he nodded at your thighs, only just clocking that maybe having your legs spread so far apart when you’re wearing a skirt wasn’t the best idea.
Your thighs snapped shut just as Sirius was snickering behind his fist. “So, dinner?” he asked again, stepping into your room and letting the door shut behind him.
“Go to hell.”
“See, that sounds a little inconvenient, and a lot hot– humidity isn’t great for the hair, or skin. Anyway, I’ve just been around the world and found no place called Hell so not sure what to say, little Potter.” You hadn’t missed his sarcastic rambles, even though you were already struggling to hide the smile taking over your face as you looked anywhere but at him. “I tried, I really did, just for you.”
Your stomach dipped at that, a wave pulling you under-- for you.
“Buuuut– you know what I absolutely adore? Your mother’s cooking, and I haven’t had it in a while, so up ya’ get,” he insisted, tugging you up by your forearms until you were pressed against his front, not a sliver of space between the two of you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel him everywhere. Hot skin against your bare arms, the itchy wool of his jumper, if you concentrated a little more, the hard expanse of his chest against yours. He must have felt it too because he released you like you were fire and he a mere mortal, brows pinching in confusion and something else, looking at you like you were a question he couldn’t quite find the answer to.
It was entirely foreign, the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach– it surely hadn’t been there before he’d left. You looked, or gawked, more like, at the very man you detested with every ounce of your being, but also the very man you were about to spend almost every hour of every day, for the rest of the Summer, with.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, as if realising the same thing as you now that you were stood in front of him. Suddenly, he understood what the whole shouting match must have been about, and up until a few moments ago, he might have disagreed with you entirely.
Now, though? He wasn’t sure what he felt.
“Ditto,” you breathed back. You pushed past him after staring for a second too long, hurrying on socked feet to the dining room downstairs, and not bothering to check if he was following.
The quiet jingle of the bell tickled your ears as you opened the door to the bookshop, dust immediately invading your senses as you fought back a harsh cough. Your Dad pushed in front of you, forcing the door to stay open by propping a stack of intimidatingly large books in front of it. You laughed silently to yourself, noting how they were all Dickens (he hated Dickens, said his novels were disturbingly boring and unnecessarily detailed).
You could only agree, never having had the courage to pick up any of those enormous beasts yourself.
“So, you can dust a little, and sweep the floor, before we open. Count the money in the till, as well, that’s very important,” he noted off, and you suddenly wish you had a pen and a pad of paper to write it all down. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been helping out at the shop since when you were younger, but this was the first time you’d been granted the responsibility of having it all to yourself (minus the inconvenience that was Sirius Black).
You were an adult now (barely, but that was a technicality)– loved to point it out any chance you got, and it meant that your Dad trusted you enough to not hover over your shoulder every time you took a shift. He was working fewer hours, though now, none, as he wanted to finish the novel he’d been writing for the past decade after melodramatically announcing at the dinner table that “It’s time!”
You weren’t sure what that exactly meant, but you weren’t about to argue with the man paying you an overly generous ten pounds an hour.
You didn’t need the money for yourself, what with still living at your parent’s house, but you wanted to contribute to the house and expenses and what no, even if it was a minuscule sum.
“Another thing,” he added, stopping, rather abruptly, in front of you, voice worryingly grave as he placed his large palms over either of your shoulders. “Please,” he begged, brows dipping, “don’t fight with Sirius in front of the customers.”
“I haven’t even done anything and you’re already after me,” you objected, pulling back from his usually comforting hold and pulling the broom out from behind the counter. His hands fell defeatedly against his sides as he sighed, standing in your way before you could mope yourself into a tizzy before the work day had even started.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he ensured, pulling you in for a tight embrace. “You know you’re my number one, sweetheart. Just don’t like seeing you so upset.”
James always teased you for being your Father’s favourite, and you’d never argue, relishing in his pointed fingers and sneering words, because it was true– there was something between you and your Father, an understanding that no one else had clued in on. He eased your worries like no one else could, smoothed irked creases across your face, replacing them with belly-hurting laughter lines and a grin so wide, you were worried it would fall off your face.
Anyway, James was the same with your Mum. You found her difficult to communicate with, what with her being as hot-heated as you were, so as much as you and your Dad got along, you butted heads with your Mum just as much. “It’s ‘cause you two are so similar, like twins, I tell you!” But it did little to calm your nerves around her, or stoke the flames of anger you so often felt.
You were about to respond, ready to tell your Dad just how much you loved him, when someone crashed through the door, slamming into the counter you were standing behind. You turned, eyes connecting with your (late) colleague. He looked utterly windswept, as if he’d run – or been chased – the whole way there.
“You okay, son?” your Dad asked, worry shifting from you to the panting, bent-over Sirius.
“Me? Oh– peachy, just– peachy,” he answered between heavy breaths, waving off his doting hands. “Sorry I’m late, got a little carried away with something and lost track of time.”
You were conscious of how your Dad didn’t offer Sirius the same advice, to not pick a fight or argue or whatever it was the two of you did, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he had everyone charmed. So you busied yourself behind the till, doing as you were instructed and counting the money, writing down the number of each of the bills on a notepad you pulled from the drawer at your waist.
Your Dad left soon after, turning the closed sign out front to open as he wished you, and Sirius, good luck.
“Guess it’s just the two of us, little Potter,” Sirius pointed out, already sounding bored as he fell into a stool at your side. He leaned his head against his arm, stretching it from side to side as he groaned at his tense muscles.
You didn’t mean to stare, swore it wasn’t something you’d let become a habit, but your gaze immediately travelled to the exposed skin of his neck, zeroing in on the trail of newly-formed purple bruises down the side. You snorted, shaking your head at him, slamming the money compartment shut a little too aggressively so that it caught Sirius’ attention. He recognised your expression to be something close to amusement, jabbing you in your side until you were scowling and slapping his fingers away.
“What’s wrong with you– you’re acting like a fucking child,” you admonished, moving out of reach and resting a hand on your hip.
“Why’d you make that face?” he asked instead of answering your question, nodding at you like it was you who had started it.
“It’s nothing,” you went with, hearing your Father’s words echoing in your mind from just moments ago. You needed to diffuse the situation before you really got mad, because past that point, you weren’t responsible for what you said– or did.
So you ventured into the aisles of books, a curious Sirius on your heels, following you like a lost, yapping puppy. “If it’s nothing then why are you running away?” he pushed back.
You ignored him pointedly, stopping to stack a few books and dust along the shelves. No one had come in yet, still too early in the morning for any tourists to stumble upon your admittedly quaint but bursting shop.
The sunlight barely filtered past the dense collection of books and mahogany shelves that lined the walls, but the windows stretched to the tall ceilings, and if you went up the spiralling staircase at the centre of the store, you’d find yourself in a cosy loft space, bathed in gold and stuffed with arm chairs and sofas for people to sit and read in.
It was your favourite part of the store, and you were seriously debating hiding up there on your first day, just to get away from the walking-plague that followed you.
“Come on– tell me,” he whined, standing too close for your liking. You side-stepped away, brushing a cloth against the worn covers of the Mystery section. He followed suit, returning to his previous position, and this time, you had no way out with the wall of books you’d met.
You turned, facing him and finally acknowledged his presence. “You lied,” you stated matter-of-factly, loving that you actually had the upper-hand with him. As much as you prided yourself with being quick-witted, Sirius always seemed to find a way to stay on-top.
“Gonna have to give me something more than that, darling. Lied about what?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at you.
It took everything in you to ignore the pet name, something more endearing hidden under it that you had never noticed before, and those pesky butterflies returned to bug about in your gut.
Fucking moths, you groaned internally.
“You said you were busy and lost track of time. But those bites across your neck say otherwise,” you stared pointedly at the affected area now, though it was covered by his hair in this position. His hand flew to his neck, as if only just realising they were on display.
“That’s none of your business Potter,” he countered, now irritated and still trying to hide the hickies on his neck with only his palm.
“It actually is my business when you’re both late to your job and lying to my Father,” you threw back, shoving forward and relishing in his slight stumble back– as if he hadn’t yet noticed the two of you were so so close.
“You can’t–” his eyes were wide, worried, as he grabbed your elbow, forcing you to meet his gaze, “You can’t tell him. He’ll be so disappointed and I can’t–”
Now it was your turn to frown over the devastation so wrought over his face. And if you two were anyone else, you might’ve let it go. Might’ve–
“Well tough shit, Black. You’re an adult, now. This is the real world we’re talking about. Not whatever fantasy you’ve been away in for the past two years. And here, in the real world–” you gestured around yourself, “--actions have consequences. You slutting it up on the night before your first day at your new job isn’t much of an excuse, now is it?”
And really, you deserved it, now that you thought back. His anger was reasonable and your need to poke straight through his ribcage, wrap your fist around his heart and squeeze tight, was not.
“Oh, fuck you, Potter!” he bit out. “You’re accusing me of not acting like an adult when you literally still live at home! Not to mention you can’t have a decent conversation with anyone without throwing the most childish temper tantrum known to man. I might be slutting it up, as you’ve put it, but at least I’m getting some,” he was breathing hard now, and the more he spoke the more the anger burned away, but his words wouldn’t stop. In fact, you think you could see him cringe, in pain or guilt or some nervous tick, as he delivered the final blow.
“Maybe if you weren’t so miserable to be around all the time, someone might actually give it to you too.”
It didn’t take long for you to react. Nor did it take long for your hand to fly up and connect with his cheek, hard and final. He wasn’t even surprised, had seen it coming a mile way, maybe even from his first “fuck you”. Because he knew he deserved it and he remembered now why he had left two years ago. Sure, it wasn’t all you. There’d been others who had irked him to the point of wanting a fresh start. And even then, it wasn’t that you were one of those people– you just would get him so riled up, to the point where he could no longer trust the words coming out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered then, fighting the urge to look away from your glassy stare. “I’m sorry, Potter. You know I don’t mean it.”
And deep down inside, you did know. You knew you both brought out the worst in each other. Only, you could never figure out why that was. Why you wanted to hurl insults and slap him silly for every comment or look or stupid way he’d string together the most perfect sentence and his irritating eyes and mouth and–
“Excuse me? Is anyone here?”
You inhaled, all sudden, as if only just realising what you had done (or what you had thought). You brushed past him without a word, needing, more than ever, to put some space between the two of you. If not for your anger then for whatever pesky emotion was seeping through your cracks.
You were (reluctantly) pulled from wherever your thoughts had been racing to as you called into the store, “Just one moment!”
You didn’t see it, not then – too focused on keeping one foot in front of the other as you made your way back, escaping to the front of the shop, faking a polite smile as you greeted the awaiting customer– but Sirius collapsed, defeated, into the wall the moment you walked away.
Something was telling him that if he hadn’t just torn your heart to shreds with a string of insults then he might have done it some other way– some other way that might have left him in trouble with James, Lily and your parents for an entirely different set of reasons.
‘Cause Jesus Christ– he wanted to be the one to give you what you needed. Or rather, he needed to, desperately. And two years away hadn’t altered the line between the two of you from enemies to something more.
And Sirius truly debated if this was the moment for him to get back onto a train to anywhere you were not. It didn’t matter if he had no money or nowhere to be, but if it meant he could avoid killing you with words or kissing your face off– he couldn’t quite see a way out of his predicament.
James would kill him. As would your parents. And Lily– God, you prayed Lily never found out. She’d serve his head up on a platter and laugh while she did it. She was awfully protective of you, always on your side when you bickered with him. If anything, you loved her even more for it, having always noticed how you frowned a little deeper, detached a little more from yourself, whenever your parents favoured him in an argument.
“Sirius!” you shouted again, no longer faking your emotions but rather genuinely just exasperated by him once more.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He managed to not get lost in the labyrinth of books, and found you by the travel section, chatting good-naturedly with a blonde in a tight dress.
“How can I help, doll?” he asked the blonde in question. His one tactic for almost every conundrum he’d ended up in was avoidance. And bloody hell was he good at it.
He smiled at her, the customer, doing little to hide his admiration for the legs she had on display. She flushed a pretty pink, averting her gaze, lip between her teeth. Bingo!
“Christ, you’re disgusting,” you muttered, mouth pouting and quiet enough that only he could hear.
“Only for you, sweetheart, only for you,” he bit back, not wanting the currently oblivious customer clue in on their conversation. “So, how can I help?”
“She needs that book–” you pointed to the top shelf, well out of reach. “--the green spine that says Amsterdam, but I can’t reach it and the step ladder is too heavy.”
“Alas! Only ever needed for my body, it seems,” he moaned with an irritating amount of flourish.
“Whatever it takes to get the book down– do what you must, Black.” You patted his chest reassuringly, taking your spot, once again, behind the cash register.
“So– planning a trip are you?” Sirius asked in between excessive displays of strength as he hauled the bulky ladder with a single hand. You glared at the girl as she swooned at him, wanting, rather unreasonably, for her to combust right where she stood.
But that was a ridiculous thought to begin with. You could barely stand to be even within a metre’s distance of the guy, let alone on the receiving end of his affections. You were tired, emotional and dehydrated. Must be. Though a glance at the clock had you realising it had barely been an hour since your day had started.
So, maybe just emotional and dehydrated.
“I’m going to get a coffee from across the street,” you announced, slugging your tote bag onto your shoulder as you walked past the preoccupied pair. Not waiting for a response, you stepped out into the early morning sun, frowning, for once, at the glare in your eyes and not the irritant you’d left behind.
It was easier to refer to him as something pesky, infectious, fungus-like even, rather than the only person who knew how to break your heart (and despite your somewhat impenetrable facade, you let him do just that every time).
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ISN'T BITE ALSO TOUCH? part ii.
fuckboy!leon x gn!reader
content: hurt/some comfort, angst, apologies, reader is sad, brief intrusive thoughts, mentions of alcohol
The seasons change. You can only hope he will, too.
[ao3 link]
…and you didn’t see him for three months.
The shifting grace of Autumn gave way to ice. A once verdant campus green now muddled under gray snow, crunched with grit and soot. Passerbys did not linger. Bundled under layered coats and coiled up scarves, students hastily searched for warmth, leaving the sidewalks barren and lonely.
You relied on consistent distraction. School work that numbed your fingers. A fleeting, creative hobby that lasted all of a week. Outings with peers who’d never consider you a friend. None of it seemed to fix you.
And God, you missed him. More than anything in the world.
But the words looped in your head. The stinging from that night boiled into agony.
I don’t fucking need you.
He didn’t mean it. You knew better than to take his venom at face value. But it nurtured the foulest parts of yourself. Self-loathing feasted like a gluttonous beast, growing fat on the careless anger of his beer-fueled tantrum. Because if there was even the slightest chance of it being true…what had it all been for?
Were you truly just a warm body he used for shallow company? Is it possible you were just as disposable as all the rest?
But those thoughts were never allowed to mature. You snipped the buds and opened another lecture video, paralyzing any hint of an emotional response.
Sometimes you’d see him. In the distance, hovering at the edge of his usual crowd, smiling. Once or twice you even made eye contact, but he’d break it within the first moment, as if he had seen nothing but a fly among trash. It’s on those days that you cried. Cried and cried, until all that remained was bitter apathy.
Angrily, you wished he felt the same. You wanted him to break. You wanted him to regret every moment of that night from the instant his eyes opened that morning. You wanted him lost and abandoned and miserable, just like you.
And, truly, it only confirmed your worst fear. If you were always this hateful beneath it all, he never really needed you.
December bit frost under the brittle edges of your fingernails, and you conquered every day with the determination of an undying plague. Christmas was only a week away, and if you could just make it to the holidays, maybe you’d finally start to heal. There’s catharsis in the new year, meaningless or not. It might’ve been what you needed to forget everything. To forget him.
You trudged back home, your evening class wrapped up and concluded for the day. Friday used to mean something. It meant a weekend with Leon. Drunk, covered in gummy worms, squealing at some god-awful horror movie he rented just to get you to hold him. He used to wrap an arm around you, hugging you tight, promising to the moon and the stars he’d keep you safe from anything.
It was hard to take him seriously with popcorn in his teeth, but now you found yourself fantasizing the memory with teary eyes, although it’s probably just the cold weather.
With rosy cheeks and a dripping nose, you turned your key into the lock, kicking open your door with a disgruntled shove. It was dark. Your roommate left for the holiday early, leaving your dorm hollow and unwelcoming. You hovered in the common area, letting the mask you wore crumble off piece by piece.
Friday used to mean something. Now all you did was rot. You stepped over towards your half of the flat, reaching forward on instinct before a reactionary tug gave you pause. Your door was closed. It wasn’t when you left for class.
You listened, straining to hear beyond the chipped oak, but you received nothing. With a dry mouth, you closed your fingers around the knob, twisting, pushing your way in.
What awaited you inside nearly sent you to the floor.
He sat cross-legged by the bed, curled up on your little, brown rug. All you could see was his back, and the gaudy, expensive headphones clamped shut over his head. His head nodded gently to a beat you could barely make out, and he thumbed slowly through a book yanked off your shelf. It wasn’t the careless flipping of empty words, but the patient turning of pages of someone actually reading.
He never read around anyone but you.
You crept closer, letting your backpack drop to the ground like a lead weight, crashing and jolting Leon out of whatever paragraph he was enjoying. He batted the headphones off his ears, swirling to gape at you with wide, fearful eyes. His eyes.
Your favorite shade of blue.
“Jesus! Scared the fucking shit out of me–” He pressed a palm to his temple, panic easily bleeding away, but in its place you saw him tense, awaiting your anger.
“I scared you? You…how’d you even…did you break into my room?” You met him with accusation, though all you wanted was to hold him.
“...I mean, yeah. Duh. Not like you’d ever let me in willingly.” The dismissive tone of his voice riled you up more than you’d care to admit, and you stepped closer.
“Of course you’d stoop to this instead of just asking. What the hell is wrong with you?” The seasonal chill you felt walking home has all but melted completely. You were a live wire. “How’d you even get in here?”
“Come on. You know I bribe the janitor. We’re bros, me and Jeff.” He donned a cocky smirk.
“Oh, well, that’s great. I’m so happy for you, Leon. Now get the fuck out.” You vaguely gestured towards the exit, glowering down at him with an impatient scowl.
Leon’s smirk dropped. He set down the book, standing to his full height. You forgot how much taller than you he was.
“...no. I’m not leaving. Not this time.” His face hardened into a devastating intensity, prying out your seams one by one. “We need to talk. I need to…fix this.” You watched him flail his hands a bit, attempting to sculpt form to whatever this was.
You knew it would never be enough. No apology or heartfelt confession would repair the damage carved from three months of absence after the worst night of your life.
But you’ve always had shitty taste in guys, and he was the shittiest. You missed him more than anything in the world.
“Fine. Speak.” You settled on an impartial response, arms folded across your midsection. “But I’m really not in the mood for bullshit, Leon. I’m not.”
“I know,” he hung his head. “I know. I…” You were kind enough to grant him patience. The time you knew he’d need. Emotionally stunted didn’t even come close to describing Leon, and any effort on his part to offer honesty is effort you needed to encourage, in your own quiet way.
“I fucked up, okay? I really fucked up. Just like I always do and–” You noticed him halt, sucking at his teeth and wincing as if cinched with pain. “No. I’m not…fuck, listen. I’m not trying to like, make you feel bad for me I just…I always do this. I do, and you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
The words came out stuttered and unsure, as if the mere concept of an apology churned the acid in his gut. And maybe it did. What little you knew of his childhood easily explained his behavior. A blood-red thread woven into his heart like stripes on a cobra.
You nodded, coaxing him to continue. You would not shelter him with yielding platitudes.
“...all that shit I said…I was…god, I was scared. Do you realize what the hell you are? What, fuck, what you mean to me? The most fucking important person in my life and I thought I was gonna lose you over a shitty party.” He was too frustrated to look you in the eyes anymore. You felt cold again. “And you’re right. About all of it. I made you go and I ditched you and then I blamed you for – fuck, and then I didn’t have the balls to do anything for two months–”
“Three months.” You interjected, your lips a thin line, the ice he walked on.
“Three…three months? Jesus, I didn’t…” Leon ran a trembling palm through his hair, wrestling his own relationship with time. “Has it really been that long?”
You nodded.
“...I’ve been a mess. I…my grades are tanking, man, and I can’t even eat.”
Against your will, you deflated with a sad sigh. He did seem skinnier. His face sunken in. His body looked frail under his sweatshirt. You wondered if any of his other friends had noticed.
“You shouldn’t forgive me. I’m not really like, expecting you to. But I…I’m…” The word dangled off his tongue, the teetering step into territory unknown. “I’m sorry.”
For the past three months, you dreamed of this moment. Twisted visions of him crawling back to you on his hands and knees, begging for mercy when he deserved nothing of the sort. Over and over again, you extracted pleasure from the possibility of denying him, turning your back and thriving in spite of him.
You were sure the words would feel great. Amazing, even. But hearing them in person, hearing the shriveled warble of a man reduced to his own imitation, you felt nothing.
The silence stretched for miles. Both of you were too hurt to say anything. From the floor, his headphones faded into quiet before transitioning into another song, lyrics incomprehensible from where you stood, mirroring the noise of your own thoughts.
He broke the emptiness with a cough, and scratched his neck.
“...damn, well, I should…I’ll let you enjoy your Friday, I guess. I’m sorry. I really am, I–”
“You said you weren’t leaving.” The words came out without thinking. Leon blinked.
“...what? I–”
“You said. You weren’t leaving. Not this time. Are you really going to break another promise, Leon?” You’re not stupid. You understood your challenge was nothing more than a thinly-veiled plea to get him to stay. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your dignity died with the autumn leaves.
“...oh, I was…I didn’t think you’d – yeah. Okay. Yeah, I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere. Swear on it.” Leon puffed his chest a little, the hopeful beginnings of a smile creasing his cheeks. A real smile.
You shuffled closer, breathing in, filling your lungs with mercy.
“Did you really mean what you said, Leon?” It was spoken so softly, and he leaned closer to hear, just as you hoped he would.
He smelled like cedar.
“...what I said?” There’s confusion in his stare, yet he tilted his head, an eagerness to understand.
“When you said you…when you said you didn’t need me. That I was–” Whatever else you were going to say didn’t matter. In an instant, you’re strangled with warmth. Arms latched tight around your chest, your face smashed into the flesh above his heart.
“I need you.” It’s said so easily. And you knew he didn’t need to think twice. “I needed you every day and I will need you every day after today and…every year and…just, so much, man.” Ruefully, you couldn’t help but laugh. Such an indelicate way of speaking. So thoroughly Leon.
Your arms wrapped around his stomach, squeezing with a reluctant pressure. You still couldn’t believe he was real. But here he was.
“Okay. That’s all I needed to hear.” You went slack in his hold, forgoing oxygen in favor of him. He filled your mind and soul, and you never knew you could miss the scent of Irish Spring so much.
“...okay. Is…Is that it? I mean, not that I– shit, are we good? We chill?” He pried you off, cupping your cheeks with burning palms, searching your eyes for safety. Reassurance.
You wanted to give him that. But pretty words and a warm hug were only enough to quiet your demons. They did nothing to heal.
“No, we’re still not friends.” You said finally, staring away, unable to face his reaction.
“Wait, seriously? What…but I–”
“I don’t forgive you, Leon. Not…not yet.” Cautiously, you gripped his wrists, lowering his hands back to his sides. “I missed you. A lot. But it took you three months to tell me all of this. Three. Months.”
“Yeah, but…you’re actually just…gonna leave me forever? For three months?” It’s not anger in his voice, simply the aching desperation of a heart longing for closure. An answer to every question he had.
“Listen, I…we can be friends again, maybe soon, maybe later. I still wanna see you and hang out and stuff, but…it’s gonna take time, okay?” His shoulders sagged. “You have a lot of things you need to work on, and I can’t be the one to fix them. It has to be you, Leon. It has to be different.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him clench his fists. A vein pulsed on his neck, and you braced yourself for the backlash. The brewing storm he hid behind when he was afraid.
But whatever happened the past three months has drained the fight from his body, and he went soft again, his posture slouching.
“I’ll get better. I will. But…can I ask you something? Can I ask you to promise me one thing? Just one?”
You stared at him again. His ocean stirred, but you stayed afloat.
“Sure, Leon.” you whispered.
“...wait for me. Promise me you’ll still be here when I come back. When I’m…when I’m fixed.” He was so close, you could study each twitch and crinkle of his face. All the voiceless ways he loved you. “Will you let me come back to you?”
It wasn’t even a question.
“I promise, Leon.”
And you loved him, too.
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SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR VINGETTE #2 dad!Joelxf!Reader
Rating: 18+ (explicit, mdni)
Words: 4.7k
Summary: When you send Joel a dirty picture during work one day you don't forsee it changing your entire future for the better.
Tags: established relationship (married), dirty talk, public sex, masturbation (m), office sex, breeding kink if ya squint, wife/husband talk, pregnancy talk, caught, fluff and smut.
a/n: While this is from the STFF universe, it could read as a stand alone with you and Joel in an established relationship!
=========================================
Done as a request from two amazing readers who requested STFF vignettes of:
Also maybe some joel x mc stuff bc girlll 👀🥵
The “fuck me pregnant” smut. 👀
You know who you are ;-p
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Joel doesn't text.
He hates the too small screen and how his big thumbs hit all the wrong buttons. He dislikes that he has to use his glasses to read the ones you send. He hates that at eight years old Sarah is already more adept to technology than him.
So when the first few texts come through to your phone you're genuinely confused.
Joel [11:12am]
Wish you w uhere hhere with me
[11:12am]
Did someone steal this phone?
Joel [11:13am]
what?
[11:13am]
My husband doesn't text. :-p
Joel [11:14 am]
What ttyhe fuck is :-p
[11:14 am]
Tilt your phone.
A pause. Then.
Joel [11:19am]
Jesus waas trying to be romantic and your sticking yourr tongue outt at me
You panic.
[11:19am]
No, I liked it! I was just being funny!
[11:19am]
I love that you're texting me!
[11:20am]
I was just kidding!
A longer pause, one in which you can imagine Joel sitting in his work truck, smirking down at his phone, fingers going over the buttons hitting wrong ones along the way.
Joel [11:19am]
I knoww hoynhey I was ttoo
It's sweet actually, the way he tries so hard. You know texting isn't his thing, technology in general really isn't. But he's trying because he knows you*** like it. When you show him something funny Maria sent you via text or when you're pensive, hunched over your phone on the sofa, typing something over to Alex about work.
It makes you feel soft for him, your body warm.
[11:20am]
I miss you too baby.
Joel [11:21am]
Wish I could seedh you right now
His words are simple but they pack a punch. You wish you could see him right now too. In fact you wish every day was just like the weekend. The three of you in this perfect, happy bubble of comfort and laughter and love. It feels so good.
You've been really busy at work lately, long hours. You wonder if this is what Joel is picking up on. This distance. The thought breaks your heart.
You've also been talking about having a baby. A big step. Joel is so eager, so excited to create life with you. But you? You're terrified. You had a horrible fucking childhood. You're scared of what that could mean for your parenting.
You look at your wedding ring set, twisting it and smiling softly.
The thing is, even if you were the worst parent Joel would be there to help. Joel is the most wonderful parent in the world. He patiently helps Sarah with her homework, he's impossibly kind to her even when she's defiant, he lets her put all manner of bow and glitter and product in his hair as she practices the latest hairstyles she's seen. He's a wonderful father. He's a wonderful husband. He's just... So fucking wonderful.
You take a moment to consider Joel's message, then turn your phone to take a selfie to send to Joel. You're smiling at your desk and on impulse give a peace sign. The door to your office opens and Alex walks through with paperwork just as you snap the photo.
"Tell me you're not sending that to Joel," Alex says and you lower your hand frowning at her.
"Why? Last time I checked he liked my face."
Alex rolls her eyes dramatically, heaving the file of rescue records onto your desk.
"I'm gay and even I know a guy doesn't want a cheesy smiling photo from his wife." She gives you a knowing look.
"Huh?"
"He wants something. . . Special."
When you continue to look confused she raises her eyebrows. "A photo you wouldn't send to anyone else if you catch my drift ..."
Oh.
You laugh breathily, your face going red at the insinuation. You mumble something about getting back to the funders and Alex stops at the doorway.
"I'm heading for lunch with Tosin," she tells you, suddenly all business. "I don't know if you remembered."
"I did," you nod motioning out the door. "I left the speaking points by the front door."
"Amazing, I'll debrief when I get back."
Alex leaves, closing the door behind her, leaving you to stare down at your phone to see the grainy photo of you smiling flashing a peace sign and you wince. Is Alex right? It does look kinda immature.
You delete it.
You glance up to see your door closed and take a moment to consider. You take the phone in your hand again, thrusting it under your blouse and pulling back the cups of your bra.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," you murmur to yourself, even though there's a part of you that finds this all a bit exciting. You press the button and feel a thrill go through you.
You pull the camera out of your shirt, peering into the phones display. You frown when it comes out blurry with what you think is your nipple in the corner.
Fuck.
No it's too... In your face. No mystery. You'll go a different route. You tug open your first few buttons at the collar of your shirt, until the lace of your bra is seen. You bend forward, allowing the camera to capture your winking face and generous show of cleavage.
You hook your finger into the lace of your bra, suggesting more but showing just the skin. You tilt your head so your neck looks long and delicate.
You snap a few photos until you find one you that you like; the one where you look playful and sexy and you attach it to the message.
[11:33am]
Hopefully this tides you over. Xoxo
The photo is sent and you feel your body tingle as you imagine Joel innocently checking his phone for a text only to find that image waiting for him. You put your phone back down on your desk, eyes drifting to your computer.
Suddenly you freeze.
Wait what if he answers his phone while he's at the job site with a bunch of others? What if someone else sees? Oh fuck, what if Tommy sees?! You'll never be able to look him in the face again!
Before you can throw yourself into a full blown fit of pique the alert comes through on your phone that you have another message.
You flip the phone open to his message of just one word.
Joel [11:34am]
More.
A thrill goes through you at the thought of Joel in his truck or at the job site turned on because of that photo. It makes your thighs clamp together as you imagine him looking at the photo, his eyes wide, his pouty mouth parted.
You stand and lock the door to your office. You glance at your watch, thankful that Alex should be gone for a while.
You don't reply right away because your trembling fingers unbutton the rest of your blouse. You'll send him a little striptease you think.
You receive another text from him as you reach the bottom button.
Joel [11:35am]
??
You laugh out loud at his impatience, typing hurriedly back.
[11:35am]
Be patient.
Your shirt is unbuttoned to your bellybutton and your bra is pulled down to show a peek of your nipple. Your finger grazes the bra cup, tugging. You snap this picture and send it off. The reply is immediate.
Joel [11:36am]
Youu look so good bby
You can imagine how Joel says it, voice all low and syrupy. Fuck you're turned on.
You fumble with the hem of your skirt tugging it down until the band of your panties is showing. You slip a hand underneath and raise the camera again.
Your neck is tilted back and you let the camera capture your lower lip full as you bite it. You send it off, pulse pounding.
Joel [11:38am]
Fuckd oplease morrhee.
Joel can barely function. All the blood has gone to his cock. When he receives another image seconds later, this one of your hands between your legs, head tilted back and your eyes heavy lidded in pleasure he can't take any more. He fumbles the numbers on his phone, holding the cell to his ear.
"Hello?"
"You know what you're doin' to me?"
His voice is low and husky and you're loving that twang of his that comes out sometimes.
"No idea," you smile. "I'm just here working away."
"Makin' me hard, baby," Joel groans. "Had to go to my truck so no one would see."
The smile dies from your face, replaced with a mask of surprise as Joel's words register with you. This is followed quickly by desire.
"You touching yourself, Miller?"
Joel gives a shaky laugh. "No."
You swallow, your face burning with shame and lust. "Would you?"
Joel takes a quick glance around his work site. He's pretty far away from everything having parked in the back lot. But there's always a chance of someone walking by.
"Here in my truck? Right now?"
"Yeah," you offer swallowing. "I.. if you want I'd... Yeah."
Joel can hear it, the breathless catch in your voice. That little hitch that happens when you're turned on. You know he hears it because you can practically hear him smile over the phone.
"I gotta go park somewhere more quiet."
"No," you breathe heavily. "Do it there."
"One of the guys might see."
You don't speak but he hears the way your breathing increases in speed. He feels his pants grow uncomfortably tight now, desperate for you to be there in the truck with him right now. Desperate to see that unfocused look you get when you're turned on.
"Exhibitionist are we?" Joel teases. "You like that I might be caught?"
"I... I guess so," you say surprising yourself. "Yeah."
"How're they gonna look me in the eye if they catch me jerking off in my truck?"
You laugh at this, but only to break the tension. It's a breathless thing.
"Don't get caught."
You wonder if Joel thinks you're depraved for this. In all honesty you'd never thought something like this could be hot. But right now you're turned on out of your mind. Imagining Joel hard for just a photo of you, hearing his breathing grow unsteady.
Joel as always though, knows you so well.
"Making you wet knowing you got me here in my truck all desperate?" Joel asks, and his voice is pitched low.
You let out a soft whine, your hand tightening around the phone receiver.
"Squirming there at your desk knowing I'm palming myself through my jeans right now?" You hear Joel give a soft shudder. "You like knowing that you do this to me, honey?"
"Jesus ... Yeah."
He lets out a dark, smooth chuckle. The kind he presses against the hollow of your throat when you're in bed together.
"And what are you gonna do for me?"
"Anything you want," you say earnestly. "The second I see you. Anything you want."
"S' that a promise?"
"Of course."
"Alright then," Joel says, leaning back a bit on the bench seat of his truck, his eyes scanning to make sure he's still alone. "You tell me what you want."
You pause. It's one thing to say things when you're together in bed, sweaty bodies writhing against one another. It's quite another midday over the phone.
"Gotta hear you ask for it," Joel teases huskily. "Then I'm happy to give it to you."
You can hear his belt buckle and zipper over the phone and desire pools in your belly. He's really doing this.
"Want you to make yourself come," you say just above a whisper, blushing all the way to your roots, "while you're thinking about me."
"I'm always thinkin' about you," Joel assures you with a groan. And you can hear the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh as he begins to stroke himself.
"Yeah?" You say, swallowing. "What do you think about?"
"How you look at me when I'm between your legs."
Joel is blunt. He always has been. It's what you love about him and in this moment it turns you on so much your mouth goes dry.
"Remember our honeymoon?" He groans, hand moving jerkily over his cock. "That night in Santorini?"
Fuck yeah you do.
You listen through the phone, eyes shut as Joel groans huskily into the receiver. His breathing is heavy, and you can tell he's got his teeth clenched. You hold yourself still, not wanting to miss a single fucking sound.
"You still there?" Joel's voice is thick and rasping. The tone makes your thighs press together under the desk.
"Uh huh," you pant. "Please don't stop."
"You really like this," Joel says and you can almost hear the curl in his smile. "I'll have to remember that."
You can hear the movements of his hand increasing; can picture him in his truck jerking himself off with one hand, the other holding his cell to his ear. Why is that the sexiest thing you can imagine?
What was he wearing this morning again? Oh fuck, that's right. That green plaid flannel, the one that he rolls up so it shows off his thick forearms. This inserts itself into your fantasy and you physically feel your panties dampen.
"You got me so fuckin' hard, baby," Joel grunts out, his voice hitching with each swipe of his palm over the head of his member. "Love knowing you're sitting there turned on outta your mind."
"I am," you whimper. "Fuck, I really am, Joel."
Your legs cross under the table and you squeeze them. Pleasure shoots up your core. You let out a trembling whine at the sensation.
"Love those ... Mmmph....sounds," Joel grunts into the receiver, imagining you there with your mouth parted. "Gettin' close-"
You've started rocking in your seat as you imagine it.
"Want you here, your mouth-"
And then abruptly you hear Joel's breath catch, hear the rustling of his body on his truck.
"I gotta go baby."
Before you can deny this interruption the line goes dead. Your legs cross, squeezing, desperate.
Fuck.
Your phone alerts you to a text coming in.
Joel
[11:48am]
Sorry bby. Tommy was commhing over.
Disappointment doesn't touch on how you're feeling right now.
You go back to your paperwork, deciding that you'll pick up things later when something occurs to you.
You bunch your skirt up to your waist and with a smirk you raise the camera to snap a photo of your legs spread with your damp panties on display. You giggle and send it off with: You owe me. Xo
You smooth down your skirt and re-button your shirt, looking presentable. You stand on shaking legs and unlock your office door, opening it.
You go back to the funding report you have to fill in, your mind turning back to the sanctuary and the animal adoption reports.
An hour or so later the main door to the office opens and you go to ask Alex how the meeting went when two familiar brown eyes come into view and your husband streaks towards your office.
"Joel?"
His eyes are blazing. He comes into your office, closing the door behind him. You stand at his approach, coming to rest your hip against your desk, pulling him into your arms.
He's wearing that green flannel and he smells like the outdoors, fresh and clean. You bury your nose in his neck inhaling.
"Didn't get to finish our conversation," Joel murmurs against the top of your head. “Got your text and saw you needed me."
"Needed you?" You tease, cocking your head to the side, looking up at his face. "Whatever for?"
He gives a wry grin before sliding his wide palm between your legs, pressing over pressing over your clothed sex and rubbing gently.
"This."
He smirks down at you, dark eyes on your lips. You kiss him fiercely, hands digging into the flesh of his neck, urging his mouth tighter against yours. His tongue slips between your lips and you moan against that deft muscle.
"Couldn't leave you wet and waitin'," Joel murmurs as he plants kisses along your jaw.
"Joel we can't do this here," you say amused and turned on. "Alex could be back any second."
"You promised me," Joel says, hands on your hips. "Anythin’ I want the second I see you, remember?"
You give him a crooked grin because really, you can't deny him. You don't want to.
He urges your bottom back onto the desk as your hands reach for his belt. You both move quickly, aware that time is of the essence.
His wide hands tug your panties off without hesitation and within seconds he's inside you, bracing the two of you against the desk. Your arms are around his neck for purchase, his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you.
"So wet for me," Joel groans in your ear as you bounce against him. The desk creaks with every thrust.
"Always," you groan honestly.
"Could barely drive here straight. All I could think about was..." Joel lets out a shuddering groan. "Fucking you right here on your desk. Watching you come for me."
You can barely form words. All you can do is hold tightly around his neck as he fucks into you, groaning and grunting beautiful, filthy things. His thumb finds your clit and begins circling as he slows the movements of his hips.
Joel never lets himself come before you do. Not unless you expressly insist on it. He's working you slowly, his eyes heavy and fixed on your expressive face. You allow him to unbutton and strip your shirt from you, leaving you in just your skirt and bra, body tilted against his as you groan.
"Lean back baby," he urges. "Lemme see you."
You comply without hesitation, shoving your papers to the ground as you rest your spine along the desk. You don't care about funding proposals right now. All you care about is Joel and the beautifully slow way he's touching you.
Joel watches you laying there for him, cheeks flushed and eyelids heavy. He's never seen anything so fucking sexy. And you’re his.
Waking up to you, going to sleep with your arm around his waist, seeing you with Sarah, talking about your day, watching movies as a family, going to the zoo. Every day since you've moved in has been bliss (aside from the odd argument because well, you're both human). He's so ridiculously in love with you. He wants to give you everything.
And the fact that you want him as much as he wants you sometimes seems like a dream. One he never wants to wake from. You tell him every day you love him. That you love Sarah. You want to hear about their days, you want to be around them all the time. The way that unlike with Paul, you showed off your engagement ring every chance you could the second it was placed on your finger.
He thinks about your wedding day, the way you'd looked coming down the aisle to him, how your lips felt when he kissed you for the first time as your husband. The way you call yourself his wife with pride to anyone who will listen.
And now you're here, his wife, laying against the desk as he thrusts into you, begging him for more looking so fucking gorgeous. He'll give you more. He'll give you anything, everything.* He wants to make life with you. Wants your belly swollen and everyone knowing that you're his. Wants to pick out baby names and do lamaze classes and watch you carry something you both created inside you.
He knows you're not certain, knows that you're hesitant and he'd never force you. Knows that despite being off birth control you're still wanting him to use condoms. And he does without fuss. He will as long as you need him to.
If you never want to get pregnant he doesn't mind. He got you and Sarah and that's all he needs. Another baby would be a joyful addition, but not necessary for his happiness.
You're breathing quickly, chest heaving. You don't object when Joel begins tugging down your bra until your breasts are exposed to him. Joel makes a soft strangled noise in the back of his throat as they jolt and ripple under his thrusts.
"How're you so goddam perfect?"
You grin up at him, your voice breathless. "Was gonna a-ask you the same thing, Miller."
You moan when his full mouth finds an exposed nipple, sucking and licking while he worries the other between his fingers. When he gently nibbles there you let out a sharp cry of pleasure.
Joel thrusts between your legs slowly, filling you and with his mouth around your nipple he watches with saddled brows as your eyes roll back in your head.
"So fucking gorgeous."
You're only able to whimper for him, thighs spreading further as he moves himself deeper between your legs. Your ankles cross behind him and he pulls back, his thumb once more against your clit. He can feel that you're close, your hips rutting more aggressively.
"So good," you whimper up at him as the pleasure reaches that apex of pleasure. "You feel so f-fucking good, Joel."
He's curves over you, one hand on your hip, the other between your legs as his thumb works against you. He's looking at you with a look of such love that it takes your breath away. And he's all yours. This is your man. Your husband. Tears prick the corners of your eyes before pleasure between your thighs overtakes you. Your head tilts back.
"Gonna come for me, honey?"
You nod, overcome emotionally and now physically as your orgasm rushes through you. You arch back against the desk and Joel watches as your naked breasts tilt to the ceiling as you tighten around him.
"There she goes," Joel says approvingly, his thumb not ceasing its movements as you crest for him. He feels you flutter around him and he groans as he throbs within you.
"So good, baby."
You preen under the praise and you begin to come down, your eyes so heavy lidded Joel muses that you look asleep.
"Joel," you whine, hands reaching for him. "Please."
He gives you an indulgent grin, leaning over to kiss you. He gives a little grunt when you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. You pull back when his hips stay stationary.
"I didn't bring a condom," he confesses. "Thought I had one in the truck. Guess we'll have to finish this up at home tonight."
"But-" you're leaning up on your elbows, watching as Joel smiles lovingly down at you. "But you came here?"
"'Course," Joel says with a small smile, starting to pull back from between your thighs. "Needed to make sure my wife wasn't aching for me all day."
You feel everything in your body attuned to him. Seeing no guile, no resentment there in his deep brown eyes. He really just came to make you feel good with no expectation of his own pleasure. And that's what seals it, though you'd known it all along. You tugg off your bra and shirt completely, your eyes trained on his.
"Want you to come," you say, your eyes trained on his. "Don't care about a condom."
You stand shakily, pressing him to sit in the chair behind your desk. Joel assumes that you're talking about a blow job, so he's confused when you throw a leg over his lap, perching there.
"Honey do you know what you're saying," Joel says when you begin to lower yourself over his hips. "We've talked and-"
"I know what I'm saying and doing," you tell him, pulling him back out of his jeans hurriedly. "And I'm asking you to fuck me bare."
Joel's dark eyes blow wide and you can see the pupil rapidly expand. Desire courses through him and you watch as his cock still glossy and semi hard stiffens sharply to full attention.
"If you want to," you add, hand gently stroking him, feeling him throb under your palm.
He doesn't let you finish. His hands cup your face in his large palms as he kisses you gently, licking into your mouth as you begin to lower yourself onto his thick length.
"Are you sure?"
You whimper, body jerking as you take all of him from this angle, stretching and watching as Joel's head tips back, eyes still peering out at you.
"Very," you promise him as his wide hands skate down your spine. "I love you so much, Joel."
"I love you too, baby," Joel says earnestly. "But if you think you need to do this for me-"
"I don't," you explain, and you let yourself surrender to the building pleasure. "I want this Joel. Wanna carry your baby."
Joel moans, brows saddling and you feel him start to thrust up into you, not holding back.
"Does that turn you on?" You ask, amused that you've both discovered something new about each other today.
"Yeah," Joel admits with a shy grin up at you.
"I'll have to remember that," you tease before you feel him thrust up into you and a stripe of white hot pleasure goes up your core.
Joel's arms hold you tightly to his chest, pinning you around the waist as your head falls to his shoulder.
You two thrust against one another in the silence of your office, the only sound the traffic outside, your combined groans and the wet sounds of flesh as Joel drives himself up into you.
Your body is naked save for the skirt you wear, like some daydream of his come to life.
He slips his hand beneath your skirt and builds the pleasure there, fingers on the pearl of your clit as you ride him. His head is tilted back so he can watch your face, the way your head lolls back when he hits a really good spot, the way you whine a little when you're getting close.
"Gonna come," you slur out, already on the precipice of another orgasm.
"Fuck yeah you are," Joel says through grunts, watching your body jerk against his deepening thrusts.
You let out little whines as you chase your pleasure, your hands on his shoulders for purchase as you slide yourself along him. He feels so fucking good.
"Doing so good baby," Joel says gently, stroking your hair back from your face as he bucks under you. He looks to where your bodies join, seeing the glossy curve of your inner thighs. "Keep going, keep going."
You do, you slide along his length as Joel's arms wrap around you, rocking into you groaning about how much he needs you, how much he loves you and you melt against him.
You come with a shiver, body arching against his as he watches you, marveling at how gorgeous you look like that.
Then your mouth finds his and you take him deeper, feeling his cock nudge your cervix. You hear your husband groaning, his damp mouth warm on your neck.
"Come on, Joel," You whisper breathlessly against the shell of his ear, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. "Fuck me pregnant."
"Fuck yeah, honey, I will," Joel begins to babble against your neck, his hips setting a brutal pace as you cling to him. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you a baby, everyone's gonna know you're mine and-"
Joel lets out a strangled cry as he releases, you feel him pulsing inside you, holding you tightly to him as he empties himself into you. Your entire body quivers as Joel comes, his body tightening and then slowly loosening, going boneless against you.
You both breath heavily, foreheads pressed tightly against one another before Joel plants a soft kiss on your neck, your jaw and finally your waiting lips. The two of you gaze at one another before giggling gently.
"I'm texting more often."
Still panting and giggling in the afterglow neither of you hear when Alex returns to the office.
"Hey so lunch-"
Joel wraps his arms around you, shielding your bared chest from your co-worker as she opens the door and walks into your office.
Alex takes in the scene, you shirtless on Joel's lap as he sits behind the desk. Both of you red-faced and looking guiltily at her.
With her hand still on the doorknob Alex backs out of the room, closing the door, but not before adding a very smug:
"Glad my advice worked."
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#something to fight for series#something to fight for fic#something to fight for#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#smut#fanfic#dad joel miller#joel miller#fanfiction#wingwoman alex#i want to have joel millers baby
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Friday anon here-
Ugh! The implications of sub Vox in his canon time period are so delicious! It’s totally taboo, it would ruin him if it got out, so much shame and confusion and insecurity! He’d fight against it so hard but still somehow end up on his knees
He always thought he was such a strong man and now he’s trying to convince himself he doesn’t like it because that’s not how things are supposed to be! The man is supposed to take charge and he’s the man, isn’t he? This whole thing feels topsy turvy but it keeps happening and he keeps ending up breathless by the end of the night
It might be less maddening if you didn’t act so normal during the day but it’s business as usual, so professional that he could almost be convinced that it didn’t happen. But it did happen and it keeps happening and he’s in too deep now
What would people think if they knew?
The way I would so write an entire fic about this. But alas, i’m tired so take my fried up brain crumbs. Ugh but this with that assistant boss au you were talking about especially hits me.
But the level of insecurity that comes with every night is actually unimaginable. The way that you’re running the show isn’t right. He’s the man, and quite literally the man of the office as well. But you’re just so hard to resist when you speak to him as if you’re totally untouchable.
The embarrassment comes before, then he finds it impossible to keep while you work your magic, but the shame seeps in after you leave. He should feel weak, and he does. But you do your job and act as if it doesn’t even happen, so it’s undeniable that on a certain level he was still your boss. Just only in specific settings, he supposed.
He tried to justify it in his head; I mean, he’s keeping his worker happy, right? But he knew that was bullshit, before said worker was stroking his dick until he almost cried, he never was one to care about his employees needs.
You were so put together about the whole thing, absolutely rocking his world and then acting like it didn’t mean anything. It did mean something to Vox. It was so unconventional, and absolutely alarming when compared to the gender norms of the ‘man’ in a relationship.
So yes, he’d put up a fight, try to be domineering, but at a certain point it felt like he was just putting up a fight for the sake of putting up a fight. Not to win.
Because under your hands, he looses every ounce of power he has. He’s never felt anything like it, being a man of his status, he’s never not been given control or respect. But now he finds he’s craving your touch, your mean words, your—and here’s the worst part—validation. Shouldn’t you, his assistant, be craving his?
But your sessions never leave him competent enough to say anything. Whether it be after hours at work, in the supply closet in the office, or maybe a late night visit on a weekend. Your words had a habit of evoking an annoying amount of emotion out of him. When you’re too mean, which you are, he’s had to stop himself from crying. But when you’re uncharacteristically nice… well he has the same problem.
Other than immature fits of anger, he’s always had a particularly firm grasp on his emotions. But just as this grasp loosened around you, so swirled every illusion he’s ever had about the ‘right’ way for man and women to act, and not that he’s so concerned with morals, but boss and employee, as well.
And the thing is, he’s a very highly respected man around the office, so if it gets out that your fucking and how your fucking, he’s absolutely ruined. His reputation, the fear he evoked, all gone. He’d be a fucking joke. But that doesn’t stop him from begging for you every night.
Anyways, now I really wanna do a full fic with this like this idea has a hold over me oh my god. God, if you send me anons and asks about this idea tonight, i’ll start believing in you 🙌🙌
#well maybe not#anyways#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#vox x reader#dom reader
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big reputations - part seven
series masterlist // previous // next
sabrina carpenter LET'S GO DANNY!! GET THAT FUCKING TRACTOR IN THE FUCKING POINTS BABY!!
charles leclerc so just fuck the rest of us right?
sabrina carpenter oh, i'm sorry, i wasn't aware that you were coming back to racing after being on medical leave??
charles leclerc you're right, as you were.
daphne jones don't worry charles, we're all praying ferrari doesn't fuck up your race.
max verstappen that's just not possible. it's ferrari we're talking about
charles leclerc ok fuck you. you don't even get along with your teammate away from the cameras.
oscar piastri could never be me
sabrina carpenter we know they don't call you oscar 'heart eyes' piastri for nothing
daphne jones you're all children
sabrina carpenter your* children
sabrina carpenter anyways, max what are your thoughts on seven by daphne?
oscar piastri GET HER OFF OF TWITTER ALREADY!!
sabrina carpenter NO!!
daniel ricciardo i don't get it, what does seven have to do with f1 twitter??
charles leclerc even i know what it means
max verstappen i also don't get it
sabrina carpenter charles and oscar get it that's all that matters
max verstappen you're a very weird person
sabrina carpenter at least none of my exes have looked like they could be my parent or my sibling
charles leclerc
oscar piastri
charles leclerc as the children say, gagged him.
max verstappen i literally hate you
sabrina carpenter that's okay. i hate you too.
daphne jones everyday i begin to question why i'm friends with any of you.
daniel ricciardo i agree. none of you are normal.
oscar piastri starting with you two.
oscar piastri i thought the worst thing about this weekend was going to be my dnf. but jesus christ, how could i be so wrong??
sabrina carpenter permission to attack?
daphne jones permission denied
sabrina carpenter but mom!
max verstappen well oscar’s a fucking psychic
daniel ricciardo do you want to talk about it buddy?
charles leclerc if i fucking talk about it i think i’ll cry. so no, i don't.
oscar piastri reputation era incoming?
daphne jones not the time osc
charles leclerc it’s fucking bullshit
sabrina carpenter if i had a nickel for every time carlos inherited a position after a disqualification i’d have two nickels.
sabrina carpenter no i swear to fucking god if i see one spanish media headline bashing on charles i will be attacking, permission or no permission.
sabrina carpenter why is this guy treated like the second coming of jesus christ in spanish media when fernando alonso is right there? the 2x world champion, the 106 podium placer.
sabrina carpenter sainz has 18, compared to fernando it's fucking nothing
max verstappen i thought you knew that it's rumored that carlos’ family has an in with the spanish media? that’s why they love him so much.
sabrina carpenter i’m biting fucking ankles. i hope charles manages to overtake him in the driver standings just shut them up.
charles leclerc at this point it'll take a fucking miracle. lando overtook me in the standings. lando, who had a horrible fucking start to his season and was barely managing to get into the points. says a lot about my season and myself as a driver doesn't it.
daphne jones were you not the vice champion last year? you're a great driver charles, you've just had a horrible season. you've made some mistakes but the majority has been ferrari's fault. if they could just get their shit together you'd have a better season.
charles leclerc thanks, i really needed to hear that.
daniel ricciardo besides, hasn't max constantly said that he enjoys fighting on track with you? i think you're one of the few who he likes fighting with on track. last year was great for you two, maybe we'll get a repeat of it next year.
oscar piastri you're 26 charles, you've got plenty of time to get a wdc, one shitty season isn't going to change that.
sabrina carpenter i will be manifesting a podium for you in mexico to make up for this shitty weekend
charles leclerc thank you sabrina
taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call @smol-scream @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you
¡leclerc-s speaks!
i have a lot of grievances about texas this year, in case you couldn't tell. realistically i know them performing at the vegas ceremony doesn't work because it clashes with eras tour dates but can we pretend the brazil shows are a week later?? i'm realizing i now have to come up with a nonsense outro for vegas, any ideas?? i did take some creative liberties with the points during the us grand prix, sorry to pierre but someone had to be sacrificed. sorry in advance for portraying carlos the way i did, BUT IT'S FOR THE STORIES PURPOSE!! I PROMISE I LIKE HIM!!
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#big reputations series#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x female oc#formula 1#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fic
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