#this is a rush job because i loved the idea lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pandoraslxna · 8 months

Note

ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)

The Na‘vi way

adult Spider x female recom reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard

Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴

"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!

Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.

Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.

Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."

"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"

The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?

For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.

As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.

When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.

"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.

"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.

A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.

"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.

"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.

"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.

Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.

"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.

He’s entirely too close like this, you think.

You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.

You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.

Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—

Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.

You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.

A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.

Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.

Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.

"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.

"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."

It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.

"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"

"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.

His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—

"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.

"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"

"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."

His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.

"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.

It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.

"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.

His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.

"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.

"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"

"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.

The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.

Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.

He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.

"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"

Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.

He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—

"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.

Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.

"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.

But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"

"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.

A smiles tugs on your lips.

"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."

His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.

Well. That’s new.

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endlessthxxghts · 4 months

Text

Joel Nye, The Science Guy

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.6k

"Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would."

Summary: Joel stumbles across an article online about the effects of coffee on the body. Determined to uncover the truth, he tests the hypothesis with you as his subject.

Contents/Warnings: Any physical description of reader is neutral (no size descriptions). Joel is bigger than you though (but he’s fucking huge in general, so…). No age mentioned for reader or for Joel. Implied established relationship. No matter what age, Joel is a grandpa when it comes to technology. Mentions of Amazon LMAO. SMUT 18+ MDNI (mutual masturbation on the phone, touching yourself in the workplace, dirty talk, sexting [kinda], ..kitchen activities…reflections…, finger fucking, lots of liquids, squirting, cumming untouched, drinking coffee with an ulterior motive!, allusion to further sexual endeavors). Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! I just got done rewatching TLOU for the millionth time while drinking some coffee, and for some reason, this was born. I have no idea wtf this is, so don't ask me.💚 Also let’s thank @javierpena-inatacvest for titling this silly thing for me hehe. Fucking iconic. I love you, bestie.🥹 Here's to my first fic of 2024, and to many more! I hope you enjoy.💚

MASTERLIST

Joel’s number one favorite sensation every morning was when the first drop of the bitter, black liquid met his tongue, consuming all his senses into nothing but pure coffee. It was one of his favorite things—past tense—because then he got to experience what it was like waking up to you every morning, what it was like tasting you every morning. The first drop of you blessed his tongue one year ago, and he never looked back.

That is, until now.

You had work today and Joel had the day off, a rare occurrence. You forgot to set your alarm this morning, so you broke from his hold in a rush, leaving him nothing but a sweet kiss to last him the day.

Usually your mornings together are spent tangled in his sheets until he leaves you with less than twenty minutes to get ready for your day. Too addicted to the way he makes you feel, you mastered the art of quick change, using the rest of your time to do your morning skincare routine. This, you’ll never skip—subjecting yourself to a few scoldings by your boss because of it.

Joel allowed himself a few more hours of sleep after you left, his body needing extra rest from his unusually crazy day at the job site yesterday and from the way you pounced on him as soon as he came home. You promised him it would be you doing all the work, but like the addicting little thing you are, he couldn’t help but take charge so he could watch you fall apart over and over and over again.

Joel pulled himself out of his bed, a chill running down his body from leaving the trapped body heat of the sheets. He was hard, of course, and usually you’re there to help with his morning problem, but apparently today’s full of rare events for Joel. He grumbles to himself as he makes the way to the bathroom, not wanting to take care of himself without you, not anymore. He could wait for you to be home, but he knows he’d be a leaking, grumpy mess all day—God forbid he has to interact with another human in that aroused, frustrated state. He checks the little clock you bought for his bathroom counter when you moved in—so I can watch the time when I get ready for work, you scolded him when he made you late for the first time.

11:48 the clock displays; twelve more minutes until your break. He can wait twelve minutes. You usually close your office during your lunch, don’t you? Maybe he can call you. He might as well do his own morning routine while he waits. Joel’s old morning routines consisted of brushing his teeth, then washing his face with soap and water. Though, upon witnessing his wretched routine the first morning you two spent together, you were utterly appalled at his actions, forcing him to the store and spending the first half of your morning educating him on proper skincare. His morning routine went from four minutes to fifteen with your influence, but because he didn’t want to be a minute late in calling you, he shaved three minutes off from his task.

As soon as the clock hit twelve, Joel plopped himself in bed, leaning against the headboard, and reached for his phone, immediately dialing you.

Two rings later, and your sweet voice fills his ears. “Hi, baby,” you say. He can hear the small smile on your face.

“Hi, darlin’,” Joel rasps, his voice still groggy from the lack of use.

“You just wake up?” You jokingly scold, knowing damn well what the answer was. You like when he sleeps in. He deserves the rest from all that hard work he does.

“Maybe,” he tells you. You can hear the smirk on his face now. “How’s work goin’? On your break now?”

“Work is… definitely going,” you huff. “And yeah, I’m on my break now, which means I’ve got an hour to counterproductively stress about these reports that have to go out.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you softly. But then he’s smirking again. “Can I help?”

“Help?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he states like it’s the most regular answer ever. “Lemme help de-stress ya,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave.

A heat consumes your face, but you remain calm. “Yeah?” You breathe. “And how would you help me, cowboy?” You ask him as you swiftly stand from your desk to lock your office door and close your blinds.

“I reckon you just locked that door of yours, huh?” He asks rhetorically, knowing you better than you know yourself. Not even your past lovers would be able to pick up on the slightest of changes in your voice when you’re aroused. Joel picks up on it instantly.

“Maybe,” you repeat his sentiment from earlier.

“If I’m remembering correctly,” Joel says as he rubs his hand over his tenting bulge in an attempt to ease his ache. “You’ve got a couch in there, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, you know what to do next, babygirl.”

Glancing at your door to make sure it’s really locked, you make your way to your couch, unbuttoning your jeans in the process and shucking them down as your ass meets the cushion. Fuck, you’re already soaked.

“Where are you?” You ask him, your fingers ghosting your core over the wet patch on your panties.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes. Joel sent you a text. An image. Clicking it, a breathy little whimper escapes you. “Fuck.” He’s leaning against the headboard, legs pushed open, his thick thighs on display. He’s just wearing his boxers, and his hand is inside, gripping onto his length. His leaking, angry tip is showing from the top of his boxers. A little circle catches your eye, and- oh. It’s a live photo. You hold down on the image, and you see his hips jerk into his hand. “Fuck,” you say again, your pussy twitching in excitement yet frustration that you can’t have him inside you right now. “I need you so fucking bad, Joel,” you whine into the phone as your fingers finally dip inside.

“I need you, too, baby,” he groans, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ over here.” He sounds so pained. It riles you up even more. Your fingers speed up at his words, breathy moans escaping you. You circle your clit a few more times before reaching lower and dipping your middle and index finger inside of you. Joel hears the faintest sound of a squelch, and the grip on his cock tightens. He pulls his boxers completely down over his thighs, his cock completely free, and he tugs at a slow, teasing pace in an effort to build himself up the way you normally do for him. “Let me hear you, baby, let me hear you touch yourself for me.”

Lord, you hope your room is sound proofed enough because without any hesitation, you’re putting him on speaker and setting your phone down near your cunt, pumping in and out of yourself faster and deeper for him to hear. “J-Joel, f-fuck,” you stutter, “I- I’m-”

“You’re close, baby, I know,” he says soothingly. You can hear the slick sound of his hand speed up. Your other hand falls to your clit as your fingers continue inside. “Let go for me, mi amor, soak those fingers as if it were my cock fuckin’ you,” he rambles. “Just like I know you can, baby, atta fuckin’ girl.”

With the help of his filthy mouth, your body seizes up and you’re seeing stars, your eyes falling to the back of your head as you remove your hand from your clit to slap it over your mouth in an attempt to stop the high-pitched, purely pornographic moan of his name from escaping the walls of your not-so private office. You can hear the moment Joel cums, too, a painful groan roars from his throat as you hear the movements slow but get slippier with each pass over.

You’re on the phone for a few moments more, listening to each other’s breaths, slowly fixing your clothing as you let your heart rate return to normal.

“Joel,” you finally have enough strength to say.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

He hears a faint knock on your door. You pull the phone away to lessen your volume on his end. Just a moment, he hears you call out. “Gonna need more of you when I get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies more than happily.

After your phone call, Joel cleans and dresses himself up and heads to the kitchen.

Joel can’t help the way your words bounce around his head. Gonna need more of you when I get home.

“And I’m definitely gonna need a fuck ton of you today,” he mutters to the bag of Colombian coffee grounds he pulls out of his kitchen cabinet. He refills the machine with water, inserts a filter, pours two heaping spoonfuls of the ground beans into the compartment, places a mug, and hits start. He goes to put the coffee away, but it’s then he feels how lightweight the bag is starting to feel.

Genuinely, he begins to panic. He needs to order more, and he needs to do it now. He cannot go a day without his precious coffee. The brand he orders is online only, and usually he would wait for you to help him place the order, but he doesn’t want to risk hitting the cutoff for same day delivery.

Joel isn’t that old, and he certainly grows with the time period, but when it comes to technology, he’s worse than your 97-year-old grandmother who attempts to group FaceTime both of you every night. Sure, he knows how to send you pictures, but that’s the extent of his ability. Truly. With his coffee in mind, though, he puts on his bravest face and opens Safari. He searches for the website you’re always on. A, he types. M. A. Z.

There! Amazon. He clicks the website, not knowing the app is already installed on his phone. He sees the smiling logo, and, proud of himself, he smiles back at it.

The smile is quick to fade, however, because the intricacies of working the website is giving him heart palpitations. He sets his phone down and reaches for his reading glasses in his pocket and slides them on. He picks up his phone again.

The thing about using Amazon on a phone through a search engine, though, is that the website is constantly glitching. So when he types in the word coffee, he has zero idea how he ended up on a completely different website, his original search lost in the complicated webs of the internet.

It takes him a moment to realize what he’s reading, but once it registers, it’s way more interesting than his original task.

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee, the headline read. His eyes begin to scan lower. Researchers concluded there was a “correlation between caffeine and sex” after testing its effects on rats.

Oh, yeah, he’s intrigued.

After reading the article, Joel restarts his original task and ends up ordering a larger amount of coffee than he normally would. In the name of science, he rationalized with himself.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, he grabs his mug and takes the time to enjoy his cup of pure caffeine. He needs the energy after all.

You get off promptly at 4pm, not wanting to spend any more time in your office—especially with the way you’ve been buzzing with need ever since your noon phone call. As soon as you park, you see an Amazon delivery person dropping off a box. They don’t ring the doorbell, and you know Joel doesn’t pay attention to the delivery notifications.

You get out of your car, leaving your things to get later. You reach the front porch and unlock and open the door first, bending down and picking up the box second.

Joel greets you at the door, immediately cursing himself for not paying attention to the door, resulting in you doing the heavy lifting. He knows you’re more than capable—Hell, you could probably handle his job better than he can—but his Southern upbringing is too deeply rooted into him to allow anything less.

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry, I coulda brought that in, baby,” he tells you as he takes the box from your grasp, giving you a forehead kiss as a trade off. The warmth of his lips physically relaxes you.

You two walk towards the kitchen, Joel sets the box down on the counter. “I just parked as they dropped it off, honey, it was no biggie,” you reply softly.

“I know, baby, but you know I-” he starts. You don’t let him finish as you grab him by his biceps and pull him into you, your arms finding their home wrapped around his neck as his grip completely wrapping your waist. Your lips slot together in a slow, needy embrace—your tongues slowly breaching each other’s mouths. You swallow the groans escaping his throat as you pull away from him.

“I know,” you say breathily, eyes as dark as his morning coffee. “Won’t do it again, promise,” you smile, knowing this is the only false promise you’ll ever make. At the rate of how hard you work him in other things, carrying a few heavy boxes is the least you could do every now and then. “Now, please undress me, baby,” you whimper, your hand skating down the front of his body, your deft fingers sliding into his waistband.

With one arm around your waist, another claws at your top, untucking it from your jeans to lift it over your head as he kisses and nips all over your jaw and neck. He turns your body so that your ass meets the counter, pushing his hips into yours, silently telling you to jump up.

Too eager, you don’t realize the trajectory of your jump, and your ass smacks the package, causing it to almost slip off the edge. The impact to your rear surprises you enough to pull away from Joel and look back. Apparently, your brain is already turned to mush because you completely forgot about that box’s existence.

However, now that you’re looking at it, you’re confused. You haven’t ordered anything recently. Did Joel order something? But he doesn’t even know how-

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asks, pausing all his movements.

“Did you order something?” You ask.

His cheeks go red. “Yeah.. we were runnin’ out of my coffee ‘n I didn’t want to not have any for tomorrow or for later ‘n I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home to help me-”

The bubbly sounds of your giggles are what cut him off. “What?” He asks, slightly defensive and slightly giddy at the sweetness blessing his ears.

“You ordered something!” You exclaim. “You ordered something! And you were successful with it!” You’re gasping for air, speaking your excitement into his chest as you wrap yourself around him.

“Don’t make fun a’me,” he pouts, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving your face a little scolding shake.

“Oh, baby, no,” you coo, your laughter calming down because of the pain in your cheeks from smiling so wide. “I’m not making fun. I’m so proud!” your voice raises back up, as if you were talking to a baby who hit their first big milestone.

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, don’t be like that,” you say as you lean in to give him a soft kiss. He gives in, of course, and he deepens it. “I really am proud,” you say as you attempt to pull away.

He doesn’t let you. “Yeah, yeah,” he says sardonically in between kisses.

Your hand drags up and grabs at his jaw, pulling him away so you can speak. “Now you don’t have to ask me to order things for you anymore,” you say with a smirk.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he breathes, trying to push against your hold on him. “Worst experience ever, I even-”

He cuts himself off because he was so caught up in you when you got home, he forgot about the little detour his internet experience took him on today.

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee.

“Actually,” he redirects. “Can we have some now?”

Your eyes pop out of your head in astonishment. “Right now?” you ask in disbelief.

He gulps. “Y-yeah, right now. That okay?”

You don’t see why not besides the fact that his erection has been perched right against the soaked fabric of your panties for the last fifteen minutes and you’ll probably go mad if you don’t actually get relief in the next five minutes—but yeah, sure. Why not?

“I guess?” You say. Or ask? You really don’t know anymore.

Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would.

You’re not really a coffee person. Sure, you have a cup here and there—mostly iced and from your favorite local shop on your way to work—but compared to Joel, you are nowhere near the level he is.

“How do you want it?” He asks, his back turned to you as he prepares two mugs.

“Rough,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. You can feel the slick in your underwear start to get cold—and dry.

Joel briefly turns around catching your eye; he points to his ear. “Say that again, sweetheart?”

Fuck. Okay, maybe you’re being a little too bitchy. You rise from your seat at the counter, perching yourself right beside him, reaching your hand into his curls to give him a little head scratch. “I’ll do it, baby,” you say. “Thank you.” With your hand still at the back of his head, you guide him to look at you as you stand on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.

The coffee, honestly, wasn’t that bad. Yeah, you put your usual creamer and sugar, but you put slightly less—curious to get a glimpse of the natural flavor Joel loves so much. You could get used to it like this, you think. One thing is for sure, though: the brand Joel buys is fucking strong. You’re on your last sip, and you are struggling—you can feel your heart pumping out of your chest, and you swear you feel like your entire body is pulsing. Like you can hear your blood coursing through your veins. You don’t tell Joel because you don’t want to sound weird, so you shrug the feeling away and take your last sip. Perfectly in sync with you, Joel finishes off his coffee and reaches for your mug to also bring to the sink.

Quickly letting the faucet run into the mugs so the coffee doesn’t stain, Joel speaks up. “How was it, darlin’? I know you don’t really enjoy coffee the way I do,” he notes.

“Actually, baby, I really enjoyed it,” you say with a genuine smile.

“Yeah?” He asks, a boyish grin sneaking past his lips.

“Yeah,” you reassure. “It was really strong, though,” you add.

“Strong?” he asks, eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah, um-” you start, unsure of how to describe it. “I don’t know, I just- I’ve never had coffee make my entire body feel like- like it’s buzzing or something. I don’t know,” you ramble.

“Huh,” he says to no one in particular. “I mean, it is one of the stronger roasts,” he tells you. Is this because you were already severely worked up beforehand? It can’t be the placebo effect—he didn’t even tell you about his discoveries.

Guess there’s only one way to go from here.

Not giving you a chance to respond, his hands find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. He kisses your jaw, trailing his lips down the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your head falls back onto him, your eyes fluttering shut as you give him full access. His fingers skate across the front of your jeans, your shirt already untucked from his earlier attempt. Your hips buck into his hands in response, a whiny little please leaves your mouth.

“Shh, I got ya, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear, his drawl licking a heat up your spine. He adjusts himself so he’s the one leaning against the kitchen counter, your body entirely relying on his support to keep you standing.

He’s unbuttoning your jeans and right away you’re reaching for the zipper, helping him pull your bottoms down in one go.

You’re shaking in his grasp, too pent up with a need your body doesn’t know what to do with. “Relax, baby, I’ma take care a’ya,” he says with a nip to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger already finding their place running through your soaked folds.

Your eyes shut at the sensation, your breathing erratic and vocal. He drags your slick up to your throbbing bundle of nerves, circling with a precision only he knows how to provide. “F-fuck,” you moan. His other hand slides down to your sex, his two fingers going straight for your entrance and sliding in with ease with how much is pouring from you. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl?” He’s pumping in and out of you at a languid pace even with the squirm of your hips. The stimulation on your clit never falters. “I can feel that pretty pussy flutter ‘round me, darlin’, I know she’s close.”

“J-Joel, please,” you let out, your head bobbing back and forth, unable to keep its heavy weight up.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s using his foot to kick your legs further apart, settling yours on the outside of his, and then both of you are dropping to the ground. His back is to the wall of the kitchen island while you land perfectly spread open atop his lap. Not worried about his or your balance anymore, he fucks into you harder, applying more pressure on your clit—the kind that makes you want to force your legs shut but you can’t, not with the way his own legs are keeping you open. “Open your eyes, sweet girl, need ya to look at yourself when you fuckin’ soak me.”

You open your eyes immediately and cast your eyes downward to his hands on you. “Nuh uh,” Joel tuts. His hand working your clit comes up to your jaw, your slick dampening your jaw as he guides you to look straight forward. Your reflection stares back at you from the dark oven window. Even in the dull image its showing you, you can see the way your pussy is glistening in the fluorescent kitchen light, the sweat dripping down your temples, your fucked-out face with Joel’s dark gaze ravaging every part of you.

Everything—all of your senses—is completely Joel, Joel, Joel, and before you know it, you’re gushing into his hand; his newfound liquid gold ever since he met you, collecting into the depths of his palm, all while you’re roaring and thrashing out in pure bliss on top of him.

The sight, sound, the feel, everything—just like you—consumes him whole. His lust takes over now, and his hands aren’t stopping. They continue their pace—their assault—on your sensitive core. He peers down over your shoulder, and his cock grows impossibly harder at the messy, slippery sight before him. “Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Gimme one more, c’mon,” he breathes in, your scent beginning to linger into his nose, crawling into his skin and finding its home there. “I know you can gimme one more, baby, always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

Your head is nodding furiously as you fight with your eyes to stay open and locked on your reflection. Your babbling, spit thick and coating every inch of your mouth as you try and respond. Mhm and one and more and fuck break free from your mouth, giving all the green light Joel needs to know he isn’t going too far.

You turn your head to face Joel, your hand flying to the back of his curls and pulling him for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue—an intermingling of each other’s spit as you swallow the other’s coffee-tinged breaths.

He feels the flutter in your cunt once more, but this time it’s stronger, tighter. The way you’re clamping down on him sends him into a frenzy, his hips rutting his erection into your lower back at the feel of your warmth wrapped around him. “C’mon, baby, let go, I feel you,” he encourages.

“Fuck-!” A high-pitched gasp turned whine comes out of your mouth as your entire body goes rigid, your pussy uncontrollably fluttering and spasming as Joel fucks you through your high. All you see is white, your body is engulfed by a tingly feeling that only describing it as TV static could do it justice. Your breathing is deep and shallow all at one, but more notably, you feel wet. Completely and utterly soaked, you can feel liquid pooling at your asscheeks and on the hardwood floor.

You finally gather the strength to look down—Joel too, and he steals the words right from your mouth. “Holy. Fuck.”

You two stay there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts on what the fuck just happened, and finally, you speak first.

“I just-” you start.

“You did,” he finishes, equally as shocked. Amazed.

“How are we gonna-”

He rubs your thighs. “Can you stand?”

You think for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll get up first. Then I’ll pull you up. Just don’t move, I don’t need ya slippin’ on-”

“Yeah, okay,” you stop him, feeling slightly embarrassed about it all.

He stands up, avoiding the little puddle below; then he pulls you up, kneeling to pull your underwear on for some sense of emotional comfort. “Hey.” He nudges your face with his hand to look into his eyes. “That was fuckin’ incredible. Ya hear me?” Heat washes over your entire face. You say nothing. “It was so fuckin’ hot and sexy and so so beautiful, I’m fuckin’ lucky to have witnessed somethin’ so heavenly, darlin’.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Ya hear me?” he repeats his question, softer this time.

The embarrassment washes away in an instant. “Well,” you look into his eyes, a flash of trouble dancing across your orbs. “Felt fuckin’ incredible, too.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, grabbing and guiding your hand down to his cock. “It did feel mighty incredible,” smugness written all over his face.

He dips your hand inside his pants, and you're met with his half-hard, sticky length. “Joel, did you-”

“That I did, baby, that I did.”

A moment passes, and you burst out into laughter for the second time tonight. Only this time, Joel joins in, completely taking advantage of how sweet the comedown always is with you.

“I think I oughta drink more of that coffee,” you say out of the blue, taking Joel completely off guard as he finishes wiping up your… spill.

“Why?” he asks, trying to maintain a normal tone.

“I swear, Joel,” you whisper as if there’s other people listening in. “I swear that coffee is the reason I finished so… intensely,” you finish, your eyebrows raised in intrigue and curiosity.

“You really think so?” Joel asks, a victory smile threatening to escape him.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I think we should test it out. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?”

“Well, I am now.”

End note: The article Joel stumbled upon is a real article LOL. Here it is, in case any of you were interested. The article is from 2023, so by all means, picture 56 year old Joel. I’m imagining him a bit younger in this lil AU, but there’s no explicit age description, so imagine whatever the hell you want😘. And in case you were wondering: yes, he ends up telling you about his intentions behind wanting to drink coffee first. Let's just say... you both end up getting hyperfixated on trying to "prove" this theory even though you both damn well know what the result is. ;) All my love, I hope you guys enjoyed.💚

Be sure to follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to stay up to date with my stories!!

Utilizing my taglist a few more times just to have a slow transition to my updates blog! @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

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doobea · 8 months

Note

scenario that is rotting my brain (just sharing ! don’t feel pressured to write about this):

cat rin and sae (add anyone else you wish!!)) 😃😃 au them having cat ears and tail and reader’s their ‘owner’ ((nsfw or sfw))

for more context,, they hide their cat characteristics in public but when they come home to reader they let loose and reveal their ‘true form’ 🤭🤭 reader could just be a childhood friend who found out about them or someone who ‘picked them up’ and taken care of them and have since lived tgt

synopsis: headcanons of cat!sae + cat!rin (sfw + nsfw) bye what if you found them in a trashcan or a cardboard box out in the rain LMAO

content: bro idk they're grumpy cat boys, fem!reader, explicit under sfw, mdni a/n: anon u have a crazy imagination and im living here for it (i got carried away and now this is so long whoops im sorry)

how you found them

Living day to day as a working college student gets boring fast. You're not the type to have roommates because of your packed schedule of studying, school, part-time job, and more studying right after. With, of course, a couple of "girl meals" sprinkled in throughout the minimal free hours you have. You live in a small studio apartment right off of the main campus and, after your halfway point through the academic year, you started to realize that it's incredibly lonely.

You were heading back late from the library one night in the pouring rain when you heard a series of muffled meows right underneath a parked car outside your apartment. It didn't take much coaxing to convince the pair of scrawny cats to crawl into your bag as you rushed inside from the torrential rainfall. Ok, cool, maybe this was a sign from the above to make you feel less isolated and depressed?

Wrong! They were super cute the first night, snuggled up against each other to keep one another warm but the next morning was an absolute disaster. They hated each other. Cue tons of running around, hissing, biting, and scratching (maybe a few of your potted plants died in the process - rip). You had no idea why they were together in the first place.

It took a solid two weeks before they finally settled down at your place. And it took another two weeks for you to realize that maybe they're not really just cats. With just two quick kisses on their noses, before you went to sleep one night, led to you waking up in bed with two gorgeous men wrapped around your limbs. But wait, they still kept some of their cat characteristics - ears and tails!

cat!sae (sfw)

Sae reverts back into his feline form whenever he feels the urge to explore and have alone time. His favorite spots to lounge around in your apartment consists of the sofa armrests, the top area of the kitchen cabinets that are impossible to reach (he's always so dusty when he jumps off smh), and your clothes.

He's definitely the type to push items off the countertop/table to get your attention. Specifically goes after the ones with food or liquid in them if he's feeling extra needy.

Likes it when you scratch behind his ears and rub his chin - but don't do it for too long! Any wrong angle will cause him to ignore you for the rest of the day (so picky...). He loves/hates it when you pick him up - everything has to be on his schedule!

When you're getting ready to sleep, he claims the space at the end of the bed, almost as if he's guarding you. Probably sleeps curled up in a ball and snores (just a tiny bit).

His humanoid form carried over his cat traits - he wears a hat to hide his folded cat ears and an oversized hoodie in order to shove his tail up his back.

Will straight up ask you to scratch and rub his ears again, not really understanding the difference in circumstances. His favorite position is laying his head on your lap when you're on either the bed or sofa.

Sae loves to tease you physically whenever he has the chance but he's always so expressionless about it. You're cooking in the kitchen? He'll walk by you and let his tail slightly graze against your back. Grabbing something? Suddenly he needs to grab something too and stands behind you to reach for whatever random object his attention shifts to, making sure that his chest leans against your body.

In public, he purposely wears his hat loose so that you have to fix it for him. He thinks it's funny and adorable seeing you panic but it's also just an excuse for him to have you touch him.

cat!rin (sfw)

Whenever Rin is having a bad day he turns back into a cat and hides under your bed or dresser, only coming out when it's time for dinner or when you're about to go to sleep. His favorite spots, when he's not in a mood, are: behind the shower curtains, inside your kitchen cabinets, and underneath the blankets of your bed (he likes dark areas to be emo I guess).

Unlike Sae who pushes things off the surface for your attention, Rin will just come up to you and sit next to you when you're doing tasks. For example, if you're studying for an exam, he'll jump to an empty spot on the table and keep you company until you're done.

Scratch his back and give him head pats! He’ll forever be in your favor and he’ll vocalize it too. He's extremely easy to please when it comes to physical affection but it took you a long time to gain his trust completely.

His favorite place to sleep is next to your head! Definitely the type to sprawl his body across your pillow, purr super loudly, and most likely the type to drool too (hopefully you don't mind!). Bonus: he's always the one to wake you first by making "biscuits" on your stomach.

When he's in his humanoid form, Rin doesn't really go outside that much. If he has to, he's covered from head to toe in a black baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask, a black jacket, and long trousers.

He stares at you a lot in his cat form, that habit doesn't stop when he's in his humanoid form either. You don't find it weird at all - it's oddly calming and kinda cute that he's always looking after you. Bonus: it took him a while to realize that bringing you dead birds and rats (in both cat/humanoid forms) wasn’t romantic at all.

During a particularly windy day, his hat blew away and a kid saw his ears, you're bad at lying so you tried convincing the kid that Rin was just a very exclusive toy you found online.

He's only physically affectionate with you in his cat form but, outside of that, he shows his affection very awkwardly through small shirt tugs and just tailing you around the apartment.

nsfw feat. both brothers (bye why do i feel embarrassed while writing this)

Everything is a competition to them. Ever since you took them in, they thought about a lot of ways to make it up to you, whether it be helping you with chores around the house or attempting to cook you meals (because let's be real they are unemployed!). It was Sae's brilliant idea to compensate you in the other department.

It starts off almost too innocently. After about three months of living together, your noisy neighbors started asking you about the mysterious men living at your apartment and to which both brothers replied that they were your boyfriends (shocker I know). You assumed that they were just weirdly possessive since you were kinda their only caretaker and still had no idea where they came from.

You made sure that they had enough space to sleep on your sleeper sofa when they decided to stay in their humanoid forms but that night they both decided to crash in your bed (they both couldn't sleep because of "discomfort").

You were quick to pick up on their physical wants and needs. Sae comes off as almost a selfish lover while Rin is rather selfless. Sae likes to focus his attention on your physical traits while Rin makes sure that you're doing mentally and emotionally okay during intimacy.

Both like having their ears pulled, Sae more than Rin, but Rin loves it when you tug on his tail and give him praises (specifically only him). Of course, both also love leaving love bites all over your body and it's an endless amount of licking for down there.

Nights like that usually end up with Sae spooning you and Rin resting peacefully on your chest. The next morning starts off with a breakfast competition of who can cook you the best omelet (spoiler alert it's neither of them).

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sprinkler-ashes · 8 months

Text

gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.

words: 2.2k

warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy

a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!

i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

everybody wants you

but i don’t like a gold rush

Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.

Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.

Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.

Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.

The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.

It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.

A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.

“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.

He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”

You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”

All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.

He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.

Except for now.

It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.

But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.

Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.

He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.

Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.

jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3

Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.

Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.

When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.

He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.

Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.

Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.

He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.

Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.

Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.

He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.

You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.

It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.

Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.

The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.

He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.

Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.

But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.

It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.

The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.

Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.

Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.

This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.

prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau

yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc

Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.

A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.

Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.

So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.

He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.

There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.

A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.

“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”

“Do you have a menu?” He asks.

“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.

You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.

You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”

Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.

“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”

Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.

He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.

To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.

Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.

I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n

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astupidweeb69 · 1 month

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hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #fanfiction #i got mail!#my thoughts #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta scenarios #creepypasta x reader #yandere ticci toby x reader #tobyposting #ticci toby headcanons #yandere ticci toby #ticci toby x you

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thebearer · 9 months

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hi e! back again with more carmy shit because i love the way you did my little blurb justice 🥰. i literally just envisioned sydney minding her own business and just recklessly placing carmy in the hot seat cause she knew his ass was gon get it 😂. i’m all in for more dom!carmy so i’d love to keep the idea going that his s/o works for/with/alongside him at the bear with a touch of her giving him her two cents? a little bit of sass to just remind who he’s dealing with 😩. maybe this time around he slipped up on something major (a birthday, anniversary, or something that overall was important to the reader and he put it off because in his mind the bear comes first). she’s been slowly driving him crazy with that silent treatment she’s been doing for the last few days and her less than a few syllabled words when he doesn’t remind her how irked he made her 😂; she’s not mad anymore just disappointed. and anyway basically in a prep for preordered to go’s on lunch rush he’s reading back orders to her and she completely writes him off. i can see him being like exactly how he when he’s not getting when he needs from his staff during a frenzy and flipping tf out. like you know when he repeats himself a second time as if you didn’t hear him the first he means it 😂. tysm in advance! please feel free to do whatever you’d like. i’m writing this at 6 in the morning so many ideas are coming into the fold. i hope you have a great day - 🥣.

ok i did sorta a different-ish take. same idea but i don't write the reader as a chef bc quite honestly i can't relate lmao i'm a horrendous cook lol. but silent treatment yes!! reader works at the bear but not a chef.

"Does anyone know where the extra napkins are? Mindy needs to be settin' tables." Carmen huffed, slamming the empty crate back in the back stock.

"That would be your missus' domain." Richie snickers, elbowing Fak lightly. "Guess you better go ask her, Cousin."

"Yeah? Fuck off. Thought it was your fuckin' job." Carmen grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Me? Fuck no, Cousin. You know who's job it is, c'mon." Richie grinned. "It's your wife, Carm. What? Scared to talk to your wife?"

Carmen sneered, huffing in annoyance, but the truth was... yes, he was a little scared. Especially with how furious you were at him. Carmen was a chronic over worker, barely taking time for himself. It was a constant fight between the two of you, one he'd gotten better at, but still struggled finding that balance. Which normally, you'd be more forgiving about.

Except it was your anniversary.

Carmen left you waiting at home, dressed up with a new lingerie set that he painfully didn't get to enjoy. By the time he got off, taking his time to clean the kitchen, prep for tomorrow's crowd, he looked at his phone and saw your texts and calls, his heart dropping.

You'd been giving him the cold shoulder since then, furious and hurt- or so he assumed, you wouldn't say anything.

Richie found the entire thing hilarious when Carmen told him. "You forgot your fuckin' anniversary? You jagoff, holy shit."

Carmen found it less than amusing. The tension in the restaurant was thick because of the two of you. Everyone teetering around you, but especially Carmen, he was more on edge now.

Pushing the door open to the office, Carmen ducked his head in, seeing you at his desk- your desk, technically, you used it more. "Hey, honey," Carmen's voice was soft, a sweet hum that had your spine straightening. He flinched lightly, stepping towards you. "D'you know where the extra napkins are?"

You didn't reply, simply typing on your laptop, editing a video for the social media page about the upcoming summer specials.

Carmen blinked, barking out your name in a much harsher than he meant to, but it seemed to work. Kinda. Your head whipped around, eyes in a burning glare when they met his, but your lips were still pressed together.

Carmen through his hands out in exasperation. "Are you bein' fuckin' serious with me?"

Richie made his way towards the table where Tina was doing prep, craning his neck to watch. Your lips twisted, glaring harshly at Carmen. Carmen huffed, a hand running over his forehead. "What do you want from me, huh? What? You're just never gonna speak to me again? I forgot, ok? I didn't mean to, I just fuckin' forgot! I was at work!"

You glared at him, feeling Richie's amused gaze from over Carmen's shoulder, the rest of the staff pretending to be busy to hear. "Shut the door." You snapped.

Carmen flinched, shocked. "What-"

"Shut the fuckin' door, now." You snapped, slamming your laptop, turning to face him. Carmen pressed the door shut, ignoring Richie's whines of "c'mon, Cousin, it was just gettin' good!".

The two of you stared, neither being the first to talk, not wanting to break. You huffed, rolling your eyes in annoyance. "You wanted to talk, talk, Carmen. I've got shit to do."

"Hey," Carmen's eyes flashed at you, his tone hard with an edge of warning. "You better watch your-"

"-No, you better watch your mouth with me. Watch what you say to me, Berzatto." You snapped, pointing a finger at him. "This isn't a fuckin' game, alright? I'm mad at you. Actually fuckin' mad at you."

Carmen's stomach turned, swallowing the guilt rising with the bile in his throat. "I... I'm sorry-"

"-Sorry isn't going to work this time, Carmen. It's always sorry. Always I didn't fuckin' mean to, I got busy." You snapped, arms wrapping over your torso. "You always do this, but our anniversary? You forgot our anniversary?"

"No, I didn't forget." Carmen ran a hand down his face. "I got you flowers and-and the bracelet-"

"-And that was very nice, Carmen, but you weren't there." You snapped, the finality in his tone making his rebuttal dissolve in his mouth. The hurt in your eyes, rounding and pitiful, soft and pleading with him. You were angry, but you were hurt, too.

His shoulders deflated, breath leaving his lungs. "You're right," Carmen nodded slowly. "No, you're-you're right, and-and-and I'm... Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby." Carmen said sincerely, eyes shining with sincerity. "I... I got caught up and I-I shouldn't have even been working that day, I just..."

"I know." You muttered, looking down at the desk, a framed picture of the two of you in Copenhagen at your wedding ceremony. Carmen in his suit, you in your dress, happy and smiling with the breathtaking scenery behind you.

Carmen could feel the guilt growing in his chest, palms sweating and heart racing, the panic to fix it- to do something. "How much longer do you have?" Carmen asked, nodding towards your laptop.

"Just a few more things to edit." You looked at your paused work. "Why?"

"Let me... Let me make it right." Carmen sighed, shaking hands fumbling towards his apron.

"Carmen, you can't leave-"

"-Yeah, yeah, I can." Carmen nodded, pulling the door out and calling for Sydney. "Can you cover tonight, Chef?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I can." Sydney nodded.

"I got it too, Cousin-" Carmen shut the door before he could hear Richie's full comment, sure something smart ass would be included.

"Let's go out." Carmen looked at you. "A make up. Please?"

You folded your arms, pouting lightly. "'m not dressed for going out."

"What're you talkin' about? You look beautiful, c'mon." Carmen shook his head lightly at you, shoving his clothes into his bag, pulling out his spare.

You tried not to drool at the sight of his chest. You'd missed him, you really had. It was a shame the lingerie went to waste.

Carmen pulled you out of the restaurant, hand on your waist, holding you close to his side. It wasn't the fancy reservations you'd planned, no Michelin star restaurants with expensive wine. No, instead, he took you to some a rooftop restaurant, one with the vibey aesthetic you always cooed at on Instagram. Sitting and sharing pretzels and greasy food, snuggled into Carmen's side while he ordered dessert. Giggling when he fed you the brownie sundae, tilting your head back with his fingers cradling your jaw lightly. It was simple, romantic, and fun. Made your heart swell, clinging to him the whole way home.

And when you got home? Carmen was in heaven. Letting you show him what he missed a few days earlier.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #richie jerimovich #sydney amadu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx

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abswife · 3 months

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Bóxer Abby x (Fem or GN) Yoga reader

Boxer Abby, who has a private gym in her apartment. And always fight (in a playful way) with her partner over which type of music to play. Boxer Abby who loves watching her partner do her yoga routine while she works out and always gets distracted when they bend over. And Boxer Abby, who does that thing where her partner sits on her lap and she thrust her hips up.

Take your time and take care 🫶

I love the idea of this so much.

FIRST OF ALL let's establish that Abby would totally be into boxing, like this is basically canon.

slight nsfw mdni

so you and abby have an apartment together

and one reason you guys chose this specific apartment is because of the private gym on the first floor

as you both have been going to the gym for awhile, you knew that this would be perfect since you wouldn't have to pay for a membership anymore

before you guys even finished unpacking you'd be up in that gym

you'd have your yoga mat and blocks, and she'd bring her boxing gloves

thankfully, the gym already had a punching bag available

now because of abby's long work hours, she would prefer to do her boxing really early in the morning

and of course, you want to spend as much time with her as possible so you go with her

because of the early time you guys have chosen you end up being the only people in the gym for at least an hour

and since it's just you two you decide to play your music out loud

however, you cannot agree on what to play

you'd want more calm zen music, and she'd want something more upbeat to pump her up

eventually you agree to start with the calmer music and then switch up after awhile

you'd start with some stretching and she'd get some light punches in before doing some strength training

and of course miss abigail would situate herself directly behind you as she does her curls so she'd have a perfect view of your ass LMAO

you'd know she does it on purpose so sometimes you turn around and give her a little wink

sometimes she'll come over and "help you with your form" which is really just an excuse to touch you and press herself into your ass

THE THRUSTS OMG

she'd be doing her thrusts with weights but then she'd get the genius idea of instead just having you on her lap

i mean... what other weight would she need to do that for y'know?

so she'd have you settle yourself over her hips

and then she'd do her thrusts, this time with a little more gusto

the closeness of your position and the rush of being lifted into the air makes you giggle, and she'll smile in return

afterwards you give her a good job kiss

and then obviously you guys take a shower together since you're all sweaty... among other things

#the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #devyntalks

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joelslegalwhre · 11 months

Note

Hey

This is my request

Yn is a driver of red bull and its the last race and max verstappen is her boyfriend ( max is not a driver ) and she wins her first worldchampionship with alot of fluff thanks

i love the idea! Be ready for a ton of fluff, i have no self control-

Sorry this took me so long… I had my final exams and was busy crying and being anxious, BUT I‘M DONE NOW whoo, your girl finally has her Abi now😭

pairing // max verstappen x driver!fem!reader

summary // You win your first world championship and Max had already planned everything out for when you get out of your car

warnings // max is not a driver, he‘s living the wag life lmao, just a shit ton of fluff and lovesick max, you‘re the first woman in f1 (did i miss something?)

word count // 2k

Masterlist // taglist // 🥤my kofi if you‘d like to leave a tip🩷

World Champion

Your car literally flew across the finish line as your team clung to the fence to the track, cheering.

You couldn't help but let out a cry of joy. You had done it, you had actually won the race.

That might not be unusual anymore, because winning races was almost a habit.

But today was different, the screams of the fans cheering you on from the stands echoed in your ears. You put your hand out of the cockpit and waved back at them, smiling and completely overwhelmed by the situation.

World champion. You were a world champion now.

The mere fact that you were the first and only woman in Formula One had made a lot of headlines. Right from the start, you felt much more pressure than the others seemed to. And you had shown all the reporters and all the doubters who had made so many comments, good or bad, how you were able to assert yourself in this male domain.

You parked your car according to the rules and not even a second later you were running towards the waiting crowd that was your team, jumping into their arms. The fence separating the people from the drivers was rocking dangerously as you jumped into their arms, almost knocking it over completely. But you were so full of joy that you hardly noticed. The love and joy your team gave you at that moment overwhelmed you. Everyone laughed, whistled and cheered, and you too had to squeal under your helmet. All of this was so absolutely unreal, it was as if you were about to wake up from a dream. A dream that was too good to be true.

But that's exactly what it was, true. This was really happening.

When your mechanics, the pit crew and whoever else was standing with them, put you back down on the ground, your eyes fell on Max. He was standing right up front, next to your mechanics, beaming at you.

As quickly as you could, you took off your helmet and your balaclava. Someone took the helmet and balaclava from your hands, much to your silent gratitude. Your feet carried you to your boyfriend in seconds.

"Congratulations, champion." He couldn't say much more before you wrapped your arms around his neck and silenced him with your lips.

You didn't care who was watching now, this moment belonged only to the two of you. Max gently parted from your lips and leaned his forehead against yours. "You can't imagine how proud I am of you." he whispered, his nose lightly brushing yours. "I love you." you whispered back.

"I love you more, champ." You giggled in response to the new nickname he seemed to have chosen for you now. You didn't mind, quite the opposite, it was a reminder of what had just happened. His breath brushed your lips as he let out a laugh. "I think you need to get back to your job now." Max grinned, still so close to your lips. You pouted and looked into his eyes, "Don't run away, okay?" you joked. "I'm not." He laughed back and gave you one last peck on the lips.

You turned around and thanked the person who had held your helmet for you.

Then you rushed to the other drivers and went through the whole procedure with the weighing and all the other usual steps. The drivers were congratulating you with hugs and brotherly pats on the back.

All the time the cheering of the fans and your team in the background.

The hymns were played and you still couldn't quite believe it. This wasn't just a normal race, it wasn't just the end of the season - which meant you finally had time to genuinely relax - no, it was the day you could talk about for decades to come, the day people would talk about for years and years. The day you made it.

Your anthem played, and as the rhythmic notes rang out, you had to hold back tears. It was emotional, to say the least. But the bright smile on your face outweighed the tears. And so you stood up there, along with Charles and Lewis, and let the sun, still pleasantly warm, brush your face. In your ears now the national anthem of your team.

After receiving numerous congratulations along the way, the garage was finally in sight. "Do you know where everyone is?" you asked your PR manager, who had accompanied you here from the podium, slightly confused. Nobody from the team was outside anymore, and you drew the conclusion that they all had to be in the garage. "They're already inside." she confirmed, grinning at you. Just as you had thought, then. You gave an understandable nod and circled the stack of tires stored diagonally in front of the garage.

Your mouth probably dropped to the floor when you saw your team, Christian and Max in front, together with Helmut, standing in front of you. You were quick to close your lips again, a wide smile dominating.

"What-" it was nothing more than a stutter, you were too overwhelmed with the situation.

"Congratulations!" everyone shouted at the same time, like a birthday surprise. That's when you noticed the shirts they were all wearing. Every member of the team was wearing the same one, and it showed you standing big in the middle, with the words "World Champion" at the top and the year at the bottom. It was one of the pictures from Spain earlier this year, when you had taken first place and had both hands in the air, clenched into fists, in victory.

"We have one for you, too." Christian grinned at you, and gave you an identical shirt to the one he was wearing.

"Thank you." your voice was barely above a whisper, the emotion too strong. Tears were collecting in your eyelashes, and it became hard to see.

You felt two strong arms close around your body, and in the next moment you were surrounded by Max's familiar scent. "Congratulations, baby." he whispered in your ear. He must have told you a dozen times since you left your car, but he just couldn't help himself. Your big dream has finally come true. All those days of hard training had paid off, and he couldn't be prouder of you.

You snuck your nose in the crook of his neck and pressed yourself closer to him once more, before braking away from the embrace.

"Thank you." you now said, addressing your team. "Thank you to each and every one of you. I know so many have said that before me, but it's true, I couldn't have done this without you guys today." you turned to your pit crew with a grin, "You guys have the absolute fastest reflexes I've ever seen. How do you do that?" The men laughed and tipped their imaginary hats, "Is and always will be an honor, Ms. World Champion." one of them joked, making you giggle.

When the hectic and excitement of the past few hours had passed, you could finally go back to your driver's room with Max to relax a little. Some privacy and quietness was something you were beyond grateful right now. All the fuss had worn you out and as much as you were filled with gratitude, your body also screamed at you to just lay down for a moment. After all, you just did a whole race in the heat of the bright midday sun. A cold shower was just about the best thing you could think of right now, but that had to wait for at least another two or three hours, maybe even more.

"Ugh, that feels amazing." you moaned as you fell onto the small couch in your room. You let out an exhausted breath and let your head fall back to rest on it. "I bet it does." Max laughed and sat down beside you, grabbing your ankles to lift your legs onto his lap. He started to massage your feet, and you felt like you just got sent to literal heaven. "Please, never stop." you let out another groan, which made Max chuckle. "Your wish is my command."

Your eyes wandered to his shirt, the same one you were still wearing. And after all the months of secret phone calls, always wondering what important things he had to do on these calls and why he left the room you were in when he did, it dawned on you, "Max," you asked, "Were you the one to get all these shirts?"

He smiled at you, still massaging your feet, „I did. Couldn't let my girl win her first championship and stand there empty-handed."

"Max," your voice cracked, "I- Thank you," you whispered, as you felt a single tear rolling down your cheek, "So much."

"Baby, don't cry." His thumb wiped the tear from your cheek, and you distinctly leaned into his touch. "Thank you so much." you whispered again. "You don't have to thank me for that, baby." a light smile played on his lips and he shifted slightly, bringing you to sit on his lap.

His hands caressed your thighs, and it sent a warm shiver through your body.

It felt good to rest in his arms and give your sore muscles a break.

You snuggled even closer to him. For a moment you just sat there, in his lap with his hands on your thighs and your arms around his middle. His hands ran up and down in a caressing and soothing gesture. The air in the room was pleasantly cool, thanks to the air conditioning.

Max's hands moved from your thighs to your back and gently moved up and down there too. He didn't push you to tell him everything that you were feeling right now, he just let you have your moment of silence. Later, when you would be back in your hotel room, there would be plenty of time to talk about everything that had happened.

"I love you." he whispered against your neck. You leaned back a little to look at him and smiled. "I love you too."

You cupped his face in your hands, the light stubble of his beard lightly scratching your skin and his scent enveloping you like a soft blanket.

You leaned forward and gently placed your lips on his. Max returned the kiss immediately and lightly nibbled your lower lip, which made you giggle and opened your lips a little. He took the opportunity to explore you with his tongue. The softness with which he kissed you elicited a sigh from you. It wasn’t a hectic or dirty kiss. Rather, it was full of love, affection and emotion. Max made you feel as if it was just the two of you and not a thousand other reporters, photographers and employees who were about to ask you a million questions. Which you were looking forward to, of course, but this moment was still too perfect to end.

Both of you separated your lips to catch your breath. Max immediately pulled your body close to his again and wrapped his arms around you.

"I think we need to get back out there," he whispered in your ear after a while. His breath tickled you a little and you giggled lightly. "Yeah, I think so."

You moved off his lap and ran a hand through your hair, which got a little tousled during your kiss. Max stood up and followed you to the door. "Off to battle." you quipped as you grabbed the handle. Max jokingly slapped your ass, and grinned, "Let's go, you world champion."

🩶taglist: @xcinnamongirl @topguncultleader @larastark3107 @sinfully-yoursss @alwaysclassyeagle @formulas-bitch @lunnnix @alexxavicry @love4lando @pjofics @Poppy4587 @cl16version @maximeverstappen @x-d1vine @ironmaiden1313

#max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #red bull racing #red bull f1 #red bull formula 1 #formula1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #fluff #requests #formula one

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Text

Home

masterlist. ao3.

Summary: reader leaves joel and sarah to pursue a job offer in nyc, thinking it would be easier than watching the relationship die from a distance. she soon realises her mistake and scrambles to fix it. based on this request.

Pairing: joel x fem! reader (no use of y/n) no outbreak au

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: no smut, just a lot of angst, fluff and attempted humour

A/N: So, I’m clearly incapable of writing short drabbles (sorry lmao) let me know your thoughts!

“‘M just not gettin’ why we can’t make it work?” Joel throws his hands up, hot at your heels while you wipe your eyes on your sleeve and rush to the bedroom.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m just saying its unfair to the both of us. I don’t know how long I’ll be down there. What if we find other people? Long distance never works, Joel. I don’t get why you can’t just let it go.” Yelling over your shoulder, you start shoving your clothes into your suitcase, wincing at the harsh scoff he lets out.

You’d known how this was going to go. You loved Joel, so much. But you had worked practically your whole life to get the job you’d been offered last week. It started in a month, but it was all the way in New York. And you’d known while reading the email, as your initial excitement settled, that the slimy feeling coiling in your gut was right - you’d have to leave Sarah and Joel behind.

Your experience with long distances in relationships wasn’t great - and more importantly, it would be unfair to both your boyfriend and the girl you considered your own daughter for you to expect them to sit around and wait for you, indefinitely. Because you truly had no idea how this was going to go, at all.

You wanted to wait until the flight tomorrow morning to break things off with Joel, but he’d been so sweet while helping you get everything together last minute and he’d figured out that something was up almost immediately. So now, here you are. Having a messy breakup with the love of your life 9 hours before your flight to New York. Where you’d live, for god knows how long.

But this was good, wasn’t it? You were finally reaping the benefits of all the summers spent indoors and working, the missed birthday parties, the cancelled plans. You were finally getting everything you’d ever wanted, right? Except your palms felt clammier, your eyes glossed over with tears and your mind was completely blank as each sharp breath you gulped made you wince like a shard of glass.

Joel stood to your sight, arms hanging limp to his sides and his eyes on the ground, brows furrowed. He looked heartbroken, and it felt like it was physically tearing you apart not to go and smooth his frown away, kiss away his scowl. You wanted to fix his hurt, but you couldn’t - you were the one hurting him. It was for his own good though. He’d find someone nice, how could he not, and he would be happier. The thought of him holding someone else, of Sarah running up to anyone else with that twinkle in her eye, of someone else fitting into your family made your chest ache.

Nothing is permanent, and they know I love them. They have to know I’ll always love them. They’ll get someone better, they’ll be happier. It’s going to be okay, everything’s gonna be just fine. A stream of rambling consciousness starting playing like a broken record player in your mind, reasoning and justifying what you were doing even as your body-your whole fucking being was protesting it. Your hands were trembling, it’d taken you three tries to close the damn zipper and you knew it.

Turning to your Joel-not anymore, is he? you’re letting him go, you goddamn idiot (helpful supplication, brain, thank you for making me cry harder)- you sidestep him, leaving him standing dejectedly in the bedroom to drag your suitcase to the curb. The image of him with his head bowed; shoulders slumped as he closes his eyes and clenches his fist, agony radiating from him, is one that sears itself into your memory on your way out. Double checking your passport, boarding pass and phone, you walk in to stand in front of him again, gently bringing a hand up to his cheek to make him look at you. When he opens his eyes, they’re completely bloodshot and lined with unshed tears, breaking you; using all your willpower not to break down and pull him closer, take his pain away. Reigning your raging feelings, you stand on your tiptoes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Be happy, Joel. Tell Sarah I love her.” You whisper into his skin and turn to leave, startling when he grabs your wrist.

“Tell her yourself. ‘S gonna break her heart tomorrow mornin’ if she wakes up an’ you’re not here.” He’s searching your sorrowful eyes, watching his words break your façade as you clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip and shake your head fast as more tears spill down your cheeks.

“C-can’t. I can’t. Please.”

Joel wants to gather you in his arms, stroke your hair till you calm down. But you’ve got your walls up now - crumbling, shaky walls but still, a barrier you’ve very much built between the two of you. He wanted your happiness, your successes, more than anything, but he wanted to cheer you on by your side, too. He was willing to wait, to call when you could - phones were getting smart now? - but you’d convinced yourself you were doing yourself and him a mercy by ending it. So he just nods, once, before gulping and pawing at the table to swipe his keys. The question written all over your face makes him want to laugh - did you really think he loved you so little he’d leave you to find your own ride to the airport at 9 fucking pm even if you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore?

So he hauls your bags off the curb and into his truck, yanking the passenger side door open and gesturing for you to sit with a jerk of his head. Once you clamber in, he walks over to the other side and starts the truck, hating every second of this. He wants to scream, shout, and beg you to stay so badly. But if you think this’d make you happy, he’d do it. Anything.

He just couldn’t understand why you kept saying he’d find better, be happier. As if he’d even try. Sarah’s mother had left, and he’d been crushed - had sworn off dating altogether. But you had come along; your lilting giggles and twinkling eyes carving a place in his heart. He hadn’t been with you because he was looking for anyone, he’d been with you because he thought he had found the one. But clearly he was wrong. Again.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he clenches his hands tighter around the wheel to steady them . His mother had always told him if it’s meant to be, it’ll be - and you won’t have any say in it. He knows it’s cliché, but if there’s even a grain of truth to be found in it, he’ll treat the saying as if it were gospel.

He can hear you sniffing your way there, heart breaking at the soft sobs that escape you, but he makes no comment. There’s no need to make this harder for you. You’d nearly fallen apart when he mentioned Sarah, and he could see in your eyes that if he asked you to stay with him, to sacrifice everything entirely, you’d do it without thinking. But he didn’t want that- could never want that for you. And so he stayed quiet, the stifling silence of the truck broken only by your muffled crying.

Pulling up outside the airport, he steps out and takes your bags down in complete silence. Itching to fix the awkwardness, he smoothes his hands over his shirt and sneaks a glance at you. You-his headstrong, terrifying little thing - looking this small, this defeated - feels so wrong that he can’t help but grasp one of your hands in his. Hooking a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and smiles softly when you meet his eyes. “‘F you ever need me, you call me, you hear? Don’t matter if it’s five am and you’re thousands of miles away. I’ll find you, okay?” Your head barely dips in a nod as you stare at him like you’re trying to memorise the curve of his nose; the set of his jaw.

Releasing you and stepping back, he plasters a wider grin on his face as he ushers you inside, stopping only to whisper “Don’t be a stranger, hotshot.” The tiny grin blooming on your face sends victory-fueled adrenaline pumping in his veins, his stomach twisting with butterflies at the final step: watching you walk away. He waits till you’re inside and out of his sight, letting a long breath loose in resignation.

He can see how unsteady your feet are, how you stumble and nearly trip over yourself. She’ll be okay, she’ll be happy. If Joel was a better man, he’d try and understand why you just left him. He would gladly have learned it all for you - the SMS texting, even the Skype stuff he’d heard of from a colleague; apparently you could see someone on your phone while talking to them - even if he was all thumbs at it. Sarah would likely have helped him with it, too, the girl loved you so damn much she would have gone outta her way to find ways to make the distance feel as normal as possible. But you didn’t ask for any of that. No, you asked him to let you go. So he would.

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You sit in the lounge, miserable. Forcing yourself to take your mind off the clusterfuck that your life has become, you reach out for a magazine and start flicking through some mindless droning bullshit about a celebrity being spotted at a bar. Anxiety and unease had the wheel now, so you decide what the hell, and walk to the airport bar, ordering whiskeys one after the other until your head is swimming and you can’t remember how to stay upright walking in god knows which corridor of this too-big airport. Funnily enough the only thing the alcohol isn’t strong enough to wipe is Joel. How you didn’t even say goodbye properly, not to him and not to Sarah. They deserved better. You’re doing them a favor by leaving.

Your head swarming with stinging taunts directed towards yourself, you stumble into the bathroom and begin a four-hour-long stint of curling up next to the milky white porcelain, hurling intermittently as you lay on the filthy vinyl floor and relish the cold bite against your burning skin. Drinking on an empty stomach had been shit oversight on your part, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d made more mistakes than one tonight…

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Your job was all you could have asked for. The opportunity of a lifetime, with a salary high enough that your account was close to hitting 6 figures in less than a year. It had taken a long time and a lot of hard work to reach here, but it was worth it. The job was, atleast. But when you swung your door open late at night, walking into a dark, cold apartment; when you got sick and had to lay shivering in bed alone for a week; when the weekend rolled around and all you could do was curl up in bed and sob into your pillow - you knew that this wasn’t worth the cost of your relationship. You’d lost weight, your eyes had semi-permanent bruises under them, your hands shook most of the time now.

It was getting worse and worse, until one morning when your alarm went off for work, you just shut it off and slept in some more. Then cleared out the depressive clutter that had started to overflow on every table, in every cabinet. Threw out the half-empty liquor bottles and for the first time since you had landed here, you knew what you were doing.

You were going back to Texas. Fuck your two-week notice. You’d made enough money to sit on your ass and do small jobs for the rest of your life if you wanted to. The eight-month stint at the firm you were currently working at - even just summarized in two lines on your CV - would help you get better jobs than you were doing before. But you weren’t going back to Austin for work, not really.

You missed Sarah like a phantom limb; it felt like someone had ripped away a part of you and forced you to live with it. You missed her jokes, her laughter, the way she’d get excited about something and talk your head off. And him. You didn’t miss him, you fucking ached for him like a lovesick puppy. His name alone made you ache, and he plagued every single minute you spent awake since you left. You kept replaying that night over and over again; every single minute of it immortalized in your memory like your own personal purgatory (fun!). Joel, who would have held your hair back when you hurled your guts up at the pavement on the bad nights. Joel, who would have held you and fed you and loved you and why the fuck did you ever think it was a good idea to leave him, again?

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you packed your things into the same bag you’d arrived with. You hadn’t even bought anything to furnish the apartment, making do with the too-small bed, cabinet and wonky table the landlord had provided - as if you’d known you wouldn’t stay. And you suppose, perhaps, a part of you did know. How was any of this worth anything if he wasn’t with you? The long-term good can go fuck itself. I need to see him. Should I just knock on his door randomly like a creep? No, that’s weird. What if he has another girlfriend now? Yeah, I should ask him before showing up. What if he doesn’t pick up? Where will I go if he isn’t there? God, fuck this. Get on a goddamn plane before you change your mind, idiot.

With these (wonderful) thoughts dizzying you, you reach the airport and ask the counter for a ticket home. Turns out there’s a flight in thirty minutes - which is great because on one hand you can get rejected earlier - but also means that you need to decide whether or not to text him beforehand. Within the next half hour. Which you then spend wringing your hands, pacing, and by the time you decide to text him, your phone has run out of battery. See this? This, my friends is luck. (or, you know, dramatic plot writing.)

Huffing, you debate yourself every single step of the way onto the plane, practically having a panic attack by the time you find your seat and settle in. There are just so many reasons this could just be another shitshow. You can’t go back in time and fix what you did, but you owe it to yourself and to him to apologise and give him the truth. And so you lie back in your seat and browse yet another crappy magazine to pass the time, eventually giving up and fitfully sleeping through the turbulence.

By the time you reach his door, its eleven pm on a Tuesday night. Meaning Sarah’s gone to bed, and Joel’s halfway there himself. This is not the time. Or the place. But you don’t find yourself having any better, genius ways to do this - so before you talk yourself into going home quietly - you’re rapping a fist against the door, careful not to be loud enough to wake Sarah up. It’s a school night. Holding your breath, you become suddenly all too aware of your flushed face and the sweat on your palms as you hear familiarly heavy footsteps reaching the door. One half of your mind is yelling at you to turn the fuck around and run what are you doing he won’t take you back you broke his heart get out get out get out while the other half seems to have just short-circuited, leaving you frozen on his porch as his door swings open.

You watch his eyes widen in surprise, and the slight furrow in his brow as he starts scanning you - for injuries, you realise - he thinks you're hurt or that something’s gone completely sideways. Clearing your throat, you wait for his gaze to snap back to yours before flashing him a meek smile. “C-can I come in? Please?” He just stares at you for a second, and then he’s nodding, stepping to the side and opening his door wider. And God, even that’s enough to have butterflies fluttering in your stomach, your throat going dry. He’s clearly mad at me, but he’s letting me in. At eleven pm. Fuck, I love him.

You sit on your side of the couch and the sheer mundanity of it hits you like a brick to the face. Joel brings you both beers from the kitchen before sitting across from you, still eyeing you with equal parts suspicion and concern. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking down at your hands and trying to figure out what the fuck to do with my mouth what do I even say until he breaks the silence. “So, how’s work been?”

And now your hands are shaking again, and you freeze. Because what do you say now? Work’s great, practically a corporate wet dream, but useless. See, turns out I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving - fucking moped about like an idiot the whole time, was practically a minute away from writing you some big shitty sonnet or something to beg you to take me back. Decided against it because that would have taken like $50 dollars just to SMS. ‘Course I could have boom-boxed it, ‘Say Anything’ style, but recording a fucking sonnet on a cassette would probably have shredded my dignity irreparably. Not that this isn’t, it’s just less of a socially-masochistic option, you know?

And it isn’t until you hear him choke on his beer and look up at the amusement on his face that you realise you just said all of that, out loud. You slap a hand to your mouth just as he starts laughing: head bowed, eyes closed and his shoulders shaking - just like that night, but he’s not in pain this time; he’s practically howling with laughter, clutching his stomach with one hand and holding his beer in the other.

You freeze again, eyes wide and staring in shock at the fact that that just came out of my mouth. And he just heard it. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and pointedly wipes a tear from his eye. Bastard. You, on the other hand, are completely panicking still - that was the shittiest apology you could have given him and where the fuck did that messily written draft you wrote drunk on the takeout bill last night go? It isn’t until he’s looking right at you with a shit-eating grin on his face that you react, blinking and looking down at your hands again.

“What I meant to say was that I’m sorry. I think I was just so convinced that I’m not the effort of you trying to stay with me long-distance that I convinced myself the only thing possible was to end it. Which, y’know, of course it wasn’t. And I didn’t even say bye properly. You drove me to the airport and I said nothing. I was trying so hard not to cry, because I thought I needed that job since I’ve been working for it so long, but fuck the job. I mean, it was amazing, don’t get me wrong. Great pay and everything, the work itself wasn’t too bad. All in all, amazing. But I was fucking miserable without you. And I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. I fucking love you and Sarah. You’re my whole goddamn world, y’ know? Sundays weren’t the same without chocolate chip pancakes and Sarah telling me about something that happened at school first thing in the morning. I just-I get if you’ve found someone - and feel free to tell me to fuck off even if you haven’t - but I just can’t anymore, I can’t stay awake every night and cry in bed and feel like shit all the time and not tell you that I just miss you so much all the fucking time and I’m so-“

“Breathe.” One word, he’s cutting your rambling off with one word, and you’re fucking obeying it. You swallow a deep breath before opening your mouth again, before he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. It’s not a soft kiss, but it isn’t forceful either. Desperate, like he needed to touch you again - the way you’ve needed to every single minute of every single day. Resting his forehead against yours, he’s smiling again. “Sonnet, huh? Would’a been a pretty shit one, I reckon. Lost your train a’thought like four times there, sweetheart.” Your stomach is doing somersaults at the fact that he’s abandoned the beer to cradle your head against his, at how he’s right there and he isn’t pushing you away.

“Wasn’t right, what you did. But we can’t make the right decisions all the time. I know you thought you were doing us a favor, but thinking you weren’t worth the effort? Now that’s a fuckin’ lie, baby. Woulda learned all kinds of phone voodoo to talk to you, and it would have been worth every damn secon’ of my time if it saved you from whatever the hell New York has done to ya. Staying awake every night and cryin’ in bed?” He tuts disapprovingly, continuing: “Shoulda called me, honey. How’s this: let’s get into bed now, an’ I’ll make you those pancakes tomorrow mornin’, I promise. And we can figure it out from there, okay?” And it takes you a second to process the fact that everything’s okay, before you’re nodding and your face is scrunching into a sob. His hands are immediately cradling you on either cheek as he’s shushing you softly, moving closer to move you into his lap. You were right. No matter how far you went, nothing could replace this right here. This; Joel; Sarah. After a long, tiring, painful eight months, you were finally home.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings @suckerforfanfic (sorry this tag wasn't working earlier)

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #sarah miller #joel miller/you #no outbreak au

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pretty-blkgirl · 8 months

Note

hi!! i read one of your fics and immediately came to do a request 🤣❤️. id love a angst to fluff with changbin! maybe he makes the wrong comment or forgets to pick up the reader or literally whatever lol. i just love angst and binnie

-🕷️anon (?)

Hi anon!!!! I was so excited when I seen this because it’s my first request 🥹. I LOVE angst too and while I was writing this, I realized 98% was angst and the fluff ain’t fluffing that much😂. Still, I hope you enjoy and don’t hesitate to request anything else ❤️🫶🏾

_____

Thin Ice

//gn!reader x idol!Changbin//

Synopsis: Changbin forgets about you….again

Genre: Angst/eventual fluff (kinda sorta)

Warnings: super angsty, sad…not enough fluff (lmao)

~~~|~~~

You walk into your dark apartment, rain dripping from your heavy clothes. It rained -hard- all day. Usually, you walk to and from work every day but this morning you asked your boyfriend to drive you.

He was ecstatic when you asked. He finally had a couple of days off and wanted to spend every waking moment with you. You and Changbin blasted his group’s music to your job, singing and laughing as rain pounded down on the car.

He swore he’d be outside your building 30 minutes before you even got off. The rain was starting to flood the streets a little, so he texted you every hour to check-in.

Two hours before you got off, he had stopped texting. You thought nothing of it, thinking he was probably napping. It wasn’t until 45 minutes before you were set to leave that you started to call him. He wasn’t answering, which worried you.

At the end of your shift, you left the building and were immediately met with the worsening weather.

The rain sounded like stomps when they met the ground. The bottom of your pants and your shoes would undoubtedly get immersed in water. Even with a jacket and umbrella, you knew you’d still be soaked.

After looking around for Changbin’s car, you conclude that he wasn’t there. No biggie, maybe traffic? Maybe he overslept a little- but was still on his way?

But what if something happened? He wasn’t answering you, and your stomach started to hurt while you thought of any and everything that could have happened.

You called Chan. You knew that if anyone knew where Changbin was, it was one of his members.

Chan’s phone rang for a while, making you even more anxious because he never took this long to answer.

Thankfully, he answered on the last ring.

“Hello?” He asked, voice laced with worry

“Hi Channie! I’m so sorry to call so randomly but I can’t get in touch with Bin. Please tell me you know where he is”

Chan says, “I talked to him a little while ago, he was at the studio last time I checked”

You were taken aback. The studio? Why was he there? He had time off, why was he working?

“You guys were at the studio?” You question

“No, he was at the studio. He said he needed to work on an idea before it escaped him.”

You sigh, knowing how Changbin gets when he’s at the studio. He can’t multitask, he probably couldn’t even hear his phone ringing while working.

You groan loudly, seeing the rain only get worse “Okay. Thanks anyways”

“No problem y/nnie. Are you okay though? Do you need me to do anything?”

You smile despite your current feelings. Chan always wanted to help out, and you would ask him to come get you if the weather wasn’t getting so bad.

“I’m fine, but could you call up to the company and get someone to check in on Bin?”

“Sure! Is that all you need though? Aren’t you off work now? Are you home? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe.” You say, not wanting to explain the situation. Chan seems satisfied with your answer and you two hang up just as a loud boom of thunder erupts in the darkening sky.

Your coworkers are all rushing to their cars to get home, You on the other hand go to your building’s lobby and sit down.

Hours go by and not a single call from Changbin. Chan did tell you a staff member looked in on him, and he was fine, just in his zone.

You didn’t want to be upset, but you were. When work was involved, nothing else around him mattered. You wanted to believe you didn’t take a backseat to his career, but this event had your mind racing.

This isn’t the first time he forgot about you when his job was involved. He had a habit of ignoring you during the little time you guys had together to work.

The studio was his place, and you knew that.

You loved how passionate he was about the things he liked- but you wanted him to be just as passionate about you and you guy’s relationship.

Changbin was far from being a bad boyfriend, he was an amazing partner, but things like this made you sick to your stomach.

Once the rain calmed down a little, you attempted to call a cab but the streets were a little too flooded. You had to walk home, getting completely drenched.

That brings you to the present, standing in your dark living room while listening to the sounds of the shower running.

He was home. He didn’t even call you to tell you he had gotten home safe.

You walk through the apartment until you reach your bedroom. There, you begin to strip out your wet clothes. You didn’t stop until you were down to your underwear. You took the clothes and placed them in your hamper while hearing the bathroom door open and footsteps near the bedroom.

Changbin entered the room and immediately froze. He looked over your body, still wet from your clothes. He looked at your face, and a scarily calm expression was staring back at him.

He immediately felt bad, rushing over and giving you the tightest hug. You couldn’t even hear the string of apologies leave his lips, it all sounded like a jumbled mess in your ears.

Fortunately, you didn’t want to hear it. You gently pushed him off you and walked out of the room, him following after you.

You walked into the still steamy bathroom and took your undergarments off, Changbin decided to sit on the sink and watch as you turned the water on and stepped into the shower.

Some more apologies, but you expertly ignored him. You spent 25 minutes in the shower, trying to calm your nerves. Changbin stayed the whole time, switching between begging for your forgiveness and going silent.

You could hear him sniffling, so you knew he was crying. You hated seeing him cry, but you were too upset to care at the moment.

Once out of the shower, he handed you a towel and you took it without any real acknowledgment.

He walked behind you into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, head down while you got dressed.

He was still sniffling, but you kept a poker face.

“Baby please talk to me” He begged for the nth time. No answer.

“I’m so sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t work during my break. Please forgive me, I swear this will never happen again”

You rolled your eyes at that one.

“Y/n PLEASE. I know I fucked up, but don’t ignore me, baby. I can’t stand it when you don’t talk to me. Yell or scream if you need to! Just don’t ignore me”

Again, no answer. You walked out of the room and to the kitchen, Changbin still hot on your tail.

He still had his robe on from when he got out of the shower, which made you chuckle a little. In the kitchen, you started to heat some leftovers as your boyfriend stares at you.

After a short while, you were ready to chew him out so you looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Go put some clothes on” You simply said, making him dash to the bedroom. It took him a couple of seconds to throw something on and rush back to the kitchen. By that time, the leftovers were ready and you were fixing two plates.

He watched quietly and muttered a “thank you” when you handed him a plate. You two walked wordlessly to the dining room. You took a seat and he sat across from you, still staring.

You began to eat, but he didn’t. He had lost his appetite. You met his gaze and mocked a confused look, “Not hungry? You must have eaten at the studio”

He sighed, ready to apologize again but you cut him off, “I’m hungry, that walk in the rain left me a little famished.”

“Baby please” He begs.

You giggle bitterly, still stabbing at the food on your plate, “You know, I love how hardworking you are. I love the way you love music. However, if your love for music overshadows your love for me- then this won’t work out”

You take a big bite from your food before setting your fork down. You take your time to chew, swallow, and wipe your mouth with a napkin.

“I’m sorry. You know how I get when I have an idea”

“That’s not a fucking excuse Changbin”

He jumps at your use of his name. You rarely call him by his name, always preferring a pet name.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone down there, I shouldn’t have forgotten about you”

“You always forget about me when music is involved. Which, I get that this is your career, but damn. I’m always taking a backseat to your career and I try to be understanding but THIS was my last fucking straw”

“Baby don’t say that, please. I swear I’ll do better”

“You said that when you forgot about my work dinner. You said that when you forgot about Valentine’s Day. You’ve said that after every single date night you forgot. I’m sick of this shit Changbin, seriously.”

You stand now, prompting him to do the same. Tears were once again running down his face and were threatening to start to roll down yours.

“I respect that this is your job. I knew what I was getting myself into when we got together. But I have given you a lot of grace, all I ask for is a little of your time. We finally have an extended amount of time together and you PROMISED you wouldn’t work. Not to mention, I didn’t even ask you to do that- YOU made that promise”

He sighs, head hanging in pure disappointment.

“Baby you’re right. I wronged you, and I keep wronging you. But I swear this will never happen again. Not ever. I will never hurt you like this again. I will never make you question our relationship again”

Your tears start to fall now, “I don’t know if I believe you Bin”

His heart sinks when he hears that, mentally kicking himself for making you feel this way.

“Y/N you’re the single best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so much that it’s not fathomable. You’re more important than anything and everything. I’ll give up this fucking career if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you.”

He gets down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. The look on his face made you want to instantly forgive him and forget everything, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

This couldn’t happen again.

“One more chance baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me spend the rest of our lives making sure you know how much I love you.”

You look away, a quiet sob escaping before hesitantly nodding.

“I love you so much,” You say, “So I’ll give you one more chance. But this is your last chance. You’re on thin ice. Please don’t let anything like this happen again”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He says, standing and taking you into his arms.

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miraclewoozi · 10 months

Text

SVT mtl : able to undo your bra with one hand.

content; boobs. smut/smut adjacent. MINORS DNI. crack. wc; 1.2k (apparently i have a lot to say on this topic lmao) warnings; boobs, i swore a few times, a funky mix of dom + sub members. let me know if there's anything you actually want me to tag this as though because i quite clearly don't know what i'm doing. /gen note; don't actually take this seriously, i just think i'm a Little Bit funny.

ALWAYS ——

seungcheol — sometimes you don’t even realise he’s doing it until you feel your bra go slack. manages first time, every time, without fail. walks past you at home and pings your bra open without warning just because he thinks it’s funny (and because you usually chase after him and pin him to the nearest soft furnishing, which always goes exactly the way he wants it to go).

jihoon — has literally magic fingers — and not just on a keyboard. smirks against your collarbone as he snaps them against the clasp and feels your tits soften against his chest. sometimes doesn’t even do it in a sexy way. it’s a love language, to him: if you’ve had a shitty day at work, it’s the first thing he’ll do for you. he hugs you tight and tells you how well you did, how proud he is of you as he masterfully flicks your bra undone, encouraging you to go run a hot bath. he’ll come join you once he’s finished folding the laundry.

jun — confidence is the key to anything in the bedroom and jun has it coming off him in waves. is it always on purpose? no it’s not. but for some reason, this guy has never had a problem with bras. then again, he could charm the birds out of the trees, so it’s kinda fitting that he can do this without struggle. it’s all in the thumb, he insists as he strips you out of the lingerie you picked out special for him. it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate how you dress yourself up for his eyes only, it’s just… boobs, you know?

minghao — a patient king. is never in a rush to get you naked and prefers to take his time undressing you, admiring you. he is always very slow, almost romantic with how he feels out your clasp beneath your tshirt and moves the two pieces apart. it’s absolutely still a one handed job, it just takes him a tiny bit longer, but those long, elegant fingers are precise and accurate 95% of the time.

jeonghan — a solid 80% success rate but is occasionally caught out by particularly stiff or bikini style clasps. never needs more than three tries though, and is frankly too stubborn to use a second hand. look, if it takes him a couple moments of struggling before it eventually snaps open? he still did it, and he’s not taking questions. it counts. stop giggling — it fucking COUNTS.

joshua — can, and does, but not always. if he’s in one of his moods, he’ll ask you to take it off yourself as he kneels between your thighs and rubs himself hard. if he’s feeling sweet, he takes his time to slide the straps down your arms and kiss over your shoulders before he even thinks about unfastening it. whichever way it goes, these moments with joshua are incredibly sensual, but there’s something about the loving way the way he hugs you close as he works it open with both hands that never has you wishing he’d get it done faster.

seungkwan — surprised both himself and you the first time the pair of you got steamy by pinging it open like a professional. you’re pretty sure it was an accident (& he knows it was one). you then walked in on him a few weeks later practicing with one of your bras on a giant teddy bear he won you on your first date to the fair. he argues that if the idea is stupid but it works… is it really that stupid in the first place? 65% of the time, he manages with one hand and never, ever fails with two. he also lavishes your tits with kisses the second he manages to work it off. a real sweetheart.

wonwoo — depends on the season, the day, the weather, and the alignment of the stars at the time of trying. somehow always manages to whip this skill out on special occasions but your average tuesday night screw either has your bra off before you can blink, or has you reaching behind to do it yourself as he murmurs all the filthy things he’s going to do to you against your ear. if you’re taking charge of him, though? sitting on top of his thighs, tickling your fingers over those washboard abs? he dissolves. can’t do that shit for love nor money. there’s something so deeply endearing about a man so broad just fumbling behind your back that you don’t even offer to help, either: you let him struggle, and struggle, he does.

soonyoung — too excitable to manage it with one hand but he loves to try anyway. the first time he managed it, he jumped up on the bed yelling about his success and it completely choked the mood. the thing with hoshi is that his arousal seems to strike at the most inopportune moments (on your way out the door for dinner, just before you have people coming over, right as you’re about to leave for work): at least half the time, you’re both undressing yourselves the minute the idea strikes and by default, he doesn’t have to worry about this too much.

chan — has managed this on a couple of occasions but he’s usually in such a hurry to strip you naked that he goes in with both hands from the start. likes to work you up from behind anyway, which helps him avoid trying to do it blindly. it’s kind of easy to undo a bra when he has you bent over the the kitchen counter. or the dresser, or a cabinet, or when he’s just pressing you against a wall with all his weight. hey, work smarter, not harder. (he’s already hard enough.)

mingyu — buys you so much lingerie and frankly, loves to fuck you while you’re still wearing it. sometimes pulls your tits out to suck on them but will usually leave your bra fastened, especially if it’s just going to be a quickie. if he does take it off, it’s a two hand job and sometimes still a struggle because his clumsy fingers can’t always coordinate the push-release thing. the more huffy he gets, the worse he struggles and the louder he whines. it’s cute, though.

seokmin — he’s just. too. needy. the second he sees a pair of tits, his brain runs a CTRL, ALT + DELETE, force shutdown. starts drooling at the way your bra hugs them, running his fingers over the lace, sometimes even forgets that taking it off is an option because it looks so fucking good on. by the time he wants to remove it, he’s so in his own head about getting them in his mouth that his hands are no longer working. has asked you to turn around no fewer than five times just so he can get the damn thing OFF and get down to business.

hansol — thought he was supposed to pull it over your head like a t-shirt the first time he tried. has been betrayed by front clasps and sports bras more times than he can count. it’s not a case of nerves, it’s a case of desperate frustration and impatient mutters of “man, fuck this” as he looks at you with eyes that say ‘please help’. don't get it twisted, hansol loves looking at pretty ones on you, for sure. he just adores you without one, too. maybe more. if bras have a hundred haters, he is one of them. ten? still him. zero? he is no longer with us. free the nipple is his motto and it’s only like, 40% for selfish reasons.

ALMOST NEVER ——

#j writes.#*#seventeen most to least #seventeen mtl #svt mtl #svt most to least #do not expect Lots of these because there won't be lots. at all. but i had a real fucky dream about a week ago and i won't tell you which #member it involved but you can try to guess from the descriptions lmao #N E way. loser vern owns my heart. sorry to that man <3 #anyway BYE

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thrawns-babygirl · 11 months

Note

Hello there lovely, is there any chance that you could write something - anything really idc if it's a drabble, hc or oneshot- involving tatted Crosshair and his send nudes tattoo?

No pressure of course. love your stuff and keep it up^^

have a nice day <3

This was only meant to be a drabble but I got carried away.

And yes I know this fic starts off almost identically to one of my other fics (I think it was one of the follower celebration ones) but for this specific fic I needed to reuse an old trope dont @ me please I've had writers block （；¬＿¬)

This is also another one of my classic medic!reader fics because I wanted it to be gender neutral and doc is the easiest gender neutral nickname I can come up with.

I am not a creative person lmao.

anywho, this is based off of @cloned-eyes absolutely sinful art, which is honestly some of my favorite Crosshair art of all time.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Sexting (I think that's it lmao) Words: 2200+

Been a while since ive written anything this long so i hope my writing is still up to snuff

Masterlist

Where could he be? Where on this maker forsaken facility could he possibly be? You storm through the halls of Kamino looking for Wrecker, the errant clone needing to come and see you for updates to his immunisations before he or the rest of clone force 99 are allowed back out into the field.

It’s not surprising that he’s avoiding you, out of all of them, Wrecker is by far the worst with needles. The man can’t stand them, avoids you like the plague when he knows that it’s time to keep his vaccinations up to date and for what its worth you can’t really blame him. No one enjoys needles.

You huff and place your hands on your hips as you think about where the lovable giant could possibly be. You’ve already checked the mess, the armoury, the Marauder and the training centres with zero sign of him. When you got to the marauder Tech just gave you that look that says, “I understand you need to find him but I’m not going to rat him out” and while you often applaud clones for their loyalty to one another, when it stops you from doing your job it makes you want to rip your own hair out in frustration.

You make your way over towards their barracks, hoping and praying to whatever deities that will listen that you’ll find him and be able to get on with the rest of your job. You take a deep breath, standing out the front of their doors, before keying in your medical override and stepping inside.

You don’t find wrecker, and you wish you had knocked.

Standing in front of you is Crosshair, in just a towel, dark lines of ink on full display over his tanned body. You’ve never actually seen him without his shirt on before, never needed to. The sniper usually manages to stay out of trouble and doesn’t need any assistance when the boys return to Kamino so you had no idea he was covered in tattoos.

You run your eyes over his chest, taking in all the impressive art that litters his toned form. The silhouette of his beloved 773 Firepuncher that stretches along his chest, the artfully done letters of aurebesh that stretch above his stomach, the other smaller words and phrases that extend down his hips, tantalizingly low, slightly obscured by the fabric of the towel that’s gripped in his left hand.

You run your eyes up his arm towards his face, knowing that he’s going to be wearing that sickeningly infuriating smirk of his and wanting to avoid the cliché “Like what you see?” you know he’s going to drawl at you like you’re in some terrible holodrama.

As you brace yourself to face him, your eyes catch on a single phrase tattooed on his left arm, slightly more patchy and faded than his other ink as if it were the result of a drunken night out in some shady tattoo parlour in the Uscru District of Coruscant. Two simple words that have a profound effect on your physiology causing even more heat to rush to your face, deepening the blush that you know is already far too pronounced on your cheeks and ears.

“Send Nudes”

You finally have the courage to snap your eyes up to his and just as you expected you’re greeted by his frustratingly handsome smirk, his eyes boring into yours, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if this is going to be the final nail in the coffin for your poorly hidden mutual attraction to one another that’s been simmering the last few cycles that’s threatening to reach boiling point as you maintain eye contact.

You lamely open and close your mouth trying to find something to say to the barely covered man in front of you before he decides to end your suffering, breaking the silence with the just as cliché “See something you like doc?” he raises an eyebrow at you before walking over towards his bunk, reaching into a pouch on his discarded armour and producing a toothpick, slipping it between his lips as he looks you up and down.

“I um-” you finally look away from him, suddenly finding the old training posters above his bed intensely interesting trying to figure out what to say to him as if you weren’t just ogling his naked chest and arms for an unprofessionally long amount of time.

You clear your throat “I was just looking for Wrecker… he needs his shots” your eyes dart around the room, avoiding his smug, self-satisfied face for as long as humanly possible.

You cringe at how your voice falters, yours and Crosshair’s interactions are always a battle of wits and snark, constantly trying to one up each other as the rest of the batch endeavour to ignore your vague attempts at flirting with one another. Both of you trying your best to goad the other into making the first move, dancing around the invisible line you’ve both drawn in the sand but never crossed.

From the corner of your eye, you see him walk towards you, you see his arm adjusting the towel around his hips and your eyes are drawn to that stupid tattoo on his arm again, the one that makes you want to throw professionalism out the window and jump his bones regardless of any regulations or rules that would get in the way and muddy the waters.

“Wrecker’s not here” his voice has dropped an octave, as if getting you alone in his room has made him realise that there is nothing physical stopping the two of you from muddying the waters of your relationship and taking that final step. You swallow the saliva that’s started pooling in your mouth, attempting to remind yourself that you’re on duty, you’re in the barracks, any one of the rest of his squad could walk through those doors at any moment an interrupt whatever lewd and improper things you both want to do to one another.

While you were wrestling with your own thoughts and feelings you miss how close he’s managed to get to you, his silent footsteps bringing him directly in front of you and you stare up at him. Has he always been this tall? You lock eyes with him, neither of you saying anything as you just stare at one another, each of you silently willing the other to close the distance between the two of you and take the leap.

He begins moving his face closer to yours, his warm breath brushing over your face, it smells minty you vaguely register as you move your face closer to his, closing your eyes and the distance between the two of you when suddenly you hear loud, boisterous laughter approaching from the other side of the door.

You curse under your breath. Despite this being the whole reason you’re in the barracks to begin with, you would give anything for a few more moments alone with Crosshair. Both of you pull away from one another, Crosshair grabbing a spare change of blacks and walking back into the refresher before the door to the barracks opens and you see the wayward clone himself stare at you with wide eyes. He knows he’s got nowhere to run now as you fix him with a glare that one would assume is because of the amount of time and effort you put into finding him and not because of the fact he just interrupted… whatever was about to happen between you and Crosshair.

You walk out of the barracks with Wrecker in tow, attempting to push whatever it was that was happening with Crosshair to the back of your mind, at least for now.

After another few hours on duty, you finally return to your quarters, sore exhausted and replaying the interaction you had with Crosshair over and over again in your mind. No matter how you try to distract yourself, whenever you close your eyes, you see the dark lines of ink that cover his sculpted body. Does he have more tattoos? Do the go lower? You mind is reeling, and you can’t focus on anything else, you can’t even sleep all you can think about is stupid Crosshair with his stupid tattoos and that stupid send nudes tattoo he has on his stupid arm.

You sigh, picking up your datapad in a vague attempt at tricking your brain into doing something productive when you get an idea. Arguably a terrible and stupid idea that could have a negative affect on your career but… an idea, nonetheless. Sighing and shaking your head you throw your datapad down onto your bed as you stand up to take a shower.

No… this is a terrible idea.

You undress and stare at yourself in the mirror. Maybe… its not a terrible idea? Your mind keeps going back to his tattoos and you decide to throw caution to the wind. Walking back into your bedroom you snatch up your datapad and open an encoded chat with Crosshair’s personal frequency double and triple checking the recipient to make sure what you’re about to do doesn’t end up in the wrong hands before steeling your nerves and standing in front of the mirror. The lighting isn’t the most flattering but you don’t let yourself dwell on that for too long before you strike what you hope is an appealing pose and taking a series of pictures, attempting to highlight your assets.

You flick through the pictures selecting the ones you think are the most flattering and before you have a chance to second guess yourself you send them through to Crosshair with the caption “As instructed”.

You wait for a moment, encrypted chats don’t have notifications for when the recipient has seen the messages so you wait with baited breath for a response. When one doesn’t come immediately you throw your datapad down onto your bed and run your hand through your hair, deciding that maybe he’s just not looking at his datapad right now you finally take your shower, attempting to wash away your nerves and embarrassment, pushing your fear of rejection out of your head as you let the warm spray wash over you.

When you exit the shower and towel yourself off you look at your datapad and see a reply from Crosshair. Your breath catches in your throat as you move to open the message and see that it comes with an attachment.

Holding your breath, you open the attachment only to be greeted by a picture of Crosshair, standing in the refresher in his barracks, wearing only a pair of loose fitting black pants that are pulled down to his thighs revealing what can only be described as the nicest cock you have ever seen. You’ve never thought that cocks were attractive before, but somehow he’s managed to change your mind. It’s long and thick and the way his slender fingers wrap around his girth makes your mouth water.

After spending far too much time searing the sight of it into your memory you read the text that he sent along with the photo just one simple word; “More”.

You dive into bed, datapad in one hand, legs spread however before you get a chance to take and pictures you receive another message from Crosshair, this time there is no text, only a video. You open it and press play.

You watch in pure delight as the recording of Crosshair’s hand moves over his hard, weeping length, his fingers tightening as he gets to the tip creating more pressure around the head. Small sighs and choked breaths can be heard from the audio as his hand works his cock and just as the video ends you swear you hear a whisper of your name.

You scramble to return the favour, attempting to capture the best possible angle as you manoeuvre one hand down between your legs to begin working yourself over. You have the luxury of not needing to share your living space with anyone, so you put on a bit of a show, moaning and whimpering and gasping his name as you touch yourself and push yourself over the edge with a final long moan of his name. Your chest rising and falling as you hit send before you can change your mind or second guess yourself.

Not long after that you receive the final video of the night, your mouth waters and you can feel heat rushing down south again as you watch Crosshair vigorously stroking his cock, muffled gasps and groans coming from his end as he works himself, the head of his cock is so red it’s almost purple and you can see beads of precum leaking out of the tip and running onto his hands as he brings himself closer and closer to the edge. You watch as he bites his lip, face contorting in pleasure as the lines of ink on his skin move with the rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to stay quiet.

He screws his eyes shut and bites his lip so hard you think you see him break the skin, as he stifles a moan of your name, spilling ropes of cum over himself, his hand and his chest, panting before the video ends.

You get one other message from him on the encrypted channel.

>Might need to see you in medbay tomorrow for a busted lip

@where-is-my-mind-tho@antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725@vincentferard

#bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair smut #crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader smut #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair smut #bad batch crosshair smut #bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader smut #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair #tbb smut #bad batch smut #the bad batch smut #tbb x reader #crosswifewrites

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nattinatalia · 4 months

Note

Jack and the reader getting matching pajamas for a family photoshoot with Jacks family (maybe early stages of their relationship.)

A/N : It was supposed to be something short and simple, but once I started I couldn’t stop and now well, see for yourself Lmao I took it places it shouldn’t have but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️ enjoyyyy 💕

It was always nerve wracking meeting your significant other's families and close friends, but it was more nerve-wracking when you were going home with your significant other for the holidays. It’s more intimate and it makes you know this was the right path into being in a serious relationship.

You and Jack have been dating almost a year now, even though you had already met his parents, grandparents, his brother and his close friends- the one’s that matter that is- it was still worrisome because it wasn’t just any holiday, it was Christmas Eve and if this isn’t as serious as it gets, you don’t know what was.

“Baby, seriously, relax.” Jack rubs at your shoulders, “You’ve met them all before and they love you.”

You sigh, “I know but I've never done the whole family picture thing.” you lift the pants to show him, “Nor the matching pajamas.”

“It’s just a picture and clothes.” he shrugs.

You raise your eyebrows at him, “It’s not and you know it. Unless you do this yearly with every other girl you bring home.” You shrug “I’ve heard the stories, thank you Grams Harlow.”

Jack chuckles, “Look at you showing your jealous side, I like it.” you roll your eyes and swat his arm, “Nothing to worry about baby, I promise you it’s just my parents and Clay, but also remind me to have a word with my grandmother, she needs to be on my team and tell you how much of a good guy I am.”

You snort, “She loves me more.”

There’s a quick knock to Jack’s childhood bedroom door, “She’s right you know?” his grandma yells, “I’m team YN, and if you ever hurt her, I’ll hunt you down.”

Jack shakes his head, “I believe you grams.” he goes to open the door for his grandma.

“Good” she nods and faces you. “Come on, Maggie and I did something and we want to know what you think of it.”

“Grandma, you can’t steal my girlfriend from me.”

You smile and head towards her, “It’s okay, I’m stealing her from you.”

********

Jack's mother and grandmother had made you hot chocolate, but just not any hot chocolate. It was your entire childhood, chocolate abuelita. They definitely made you feel all kinds of emotions since your grandmother would always make it for you during the cold weathers or the holidays.

“Is it good? Jackman called your grandma for us and she gave us some steps to follow.” Maggie asks you.

You blow on the mug, take a sip and sigh. “Oh yeah, this is definitely good.” You smile, “You ladies did a wonderful job.”

Making hot chocolate shouldn’t be a big deal to make right? Well in this case, not everyone makes their chocolate abuelita the same, some just add milk or water. But your grandma? She adds a whole lot of other things that make it one hundred times better.

“Alright.” Clay announces, “Let’s get this photoshoot out of the way.”

Maggie raises her eyebrows at her youngest “What’s the rush?”

“Jack wants to keep Y/N tradition of watching movies and playing board games. Apparently she does this with her siblings and parents.”

You blush and throw a glance to Jack, “We’re in your parents home, I have no problem doing things differently. Let’s have Christmas the Harlow’s way.”

Jack shakes his head “You’ll regret that.”

“JACKMAN.” Both his mom and grandmother yell.

You chuckle and take another sip of your hot chocolate.

Clay then whispers in your ear “We sing carols all night long, so let’s do Christmas your way.” He looks at you with a pleading look.

You shake your head, “We compromise.”

“Excellent idea.” Maggie says. “We’ll take the photos, then before each movie we sing our songs.”

Both Clay and Jack glare at you, “That sounds like a great idea.” You stand up and grab Jack’s hand, “Come on, let’s take these pictures.”

You guys spend over two hours taking pictures, only because Jack and Clay kept whining about their spots in each set.

Urban was getting annoyed, simply because he had his girlfriend- your best friend, waiting for him back at his apartment. He wanted out immediately and he kept throwing glances your way to help him out.

“Okay, I think we got plenty of pictures.” You say, “Urban has plans and we’re sort of keeping him from them.”

Maggie gasps, “Oh my, I’m sorry son, why didn’t you bring her with you?”

Jack, Clay and yourself chuckle while Urban goes red in the face “W-who?”

Maggie raises her eyebrows, “You think I don’t know all about you and miss trouble maker? Y/N’s best friend?”

Urban scratches his neck “I- I didn’t think I could bring her over.”

“URBAN WYATT.” Jack’s grandmother snaps, “How long have we known you? Aht, don’t answer that, you bring over whoever is keeping you company. You are family end of the story.”

“Yes ma’am”

You smile and feel a tug to your hand. You look to your left and notice Jack is pointing to the hallway.

You follow him quickly “Jack, we’re not having sex while your family is out there getting ready to sing Christmas songs.”

Jack chuckles, “That’s later tonight baby.” He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you in close, giving you a few pecks.

You look up at him, feel him getting hot and fidgeting. “What’s going on?”

“I have a surprise for you, but I don’t know how you’ll react.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Okay?”

“This is our first Christmas together.” He starts.

“Yeah?”

He takes a deep breath, “I love you, there’s no denying that.”

You smile, “I love you too.”

“But-“

You cut him off immediately “But? But what?What’s going on right now?” You push back and lean against the wall.

Jack goes wide eyed “Babe no.” He goes up to you. “This isn’t a breakup speech.”

“Can you just tell me then?”

“You told me you always spent Christmas with your family, even with your busy schedule, you would make time to go be with them.” He says.

You nod, letting him continue “So if this relationship is going to work, we both have to put one hundred. I don’t like the fifty-fifty, it’s all in or nothing. So, I called your brothers and they immediately said yes.”

You start getting emotional, “Y-yes to what?”

He smiles “We’re spending Christmas Eve here, and tomorrow morning we’re going to your family. I know for you it’s traditional to celebrate on the 24th but since we’re here, I couldn’t change it last minute.”

“Babe.” You whisper and shake your head. “What about your family?”

“They understand and it was actually moms idea. I couldn’t keep you away from your siblings. I know how much they mean to you.”

You jump on him immediately and start peppering him with kisses. “Wait.”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re going to spend Christmas with my family?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“We’re going to them?”

He chuckles “Yes.”

“Sooo, you’re going to Mexico with me to be with my family-my entire family?”

“Uhh, yes?”

You chuckle “Oh they are going to eat you alive gringo.”

“Wait what? I’ve met your dad and brothers.” He asks, confused.

You nod, “Yeah but all my tíos and cousins will be there. You’re meeting the entire family.”

“N-nooo, your brothers didn’t mention any of that.”

You smile, “Baby, we’re Mexican, there’s a tío and cousin in each corner. Plus, the 25th is usually a recalentado and drinking, so my entire family will definitely be there. This is why I make sure I’m there on the 24th, only spend it with my parents and siblings.”

Jack nods, takes a deep breath “I can handle that.”

“Are you sure? We can back out.”

He shakes his head “We’re going, plus, I need to meet all of your family if I plan on marrying you one day.”

“I- you can’t say things like that and not mean it.” You glare at him and start walking back to the living room.

“I do mean it.” He stops you at the entrance of the hallway, “I promise you, I’m going to make you my wife one day and then we’ll have mini versions of us running around the house wanting to bake cookies and cakes because you make the best desserts ever.”

You let the tears flow, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“It’s a promise, now look up.” He says, and you notice the mistletoe hanging there. “Give your future husband and baby daddy a kiss.”

You chuckle and do just that.

It wasn’t an easy road, but Jack definitely kept his promise and you were the happiest person on planet earth.

******

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree @toocriticalharlow @thefemalestorywriter @lightsoutstyles @violetslays818 @fantasywritersstuff @vanwritesfan-fiction

#jack harlow #harlowcomehome #concept request #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x oc

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