#I’m also not American so sorry if I got something wrong and sorry if I missed anything in general 👍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

landososcar · 18 days

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so american ; CL16

pairing(s) ; charles leclerc x american!reader

summary ; in which a trip to monaco turns permenant because of one ferrari racing driver

warnings ; fast paced relationship, smau, google translated french (pls correct anything that’s wrong) & FLUFFF

note ; lol sorry i lowkey disappeared. anyways. here’s charles and leo (aka everyone’s fav duo)

instagram !

liked by friend1, charlesleclerc, and others

youruser leo & i might never leave 🥰🇲🇨

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friend1 monaco is so so beautiful

yourbff you can’t leave me here alone in the us

youruser but…

charles_leclerc im stealing her

yourbff you’ve know her for 3 weeks

charles_leclerc whats your point ??

friend2 the states miss you come home

friend3 leo has a new lap to sit in????

yourbff i feel cheated on

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure you don’t leave ☺️❤️

youruser having the best time of my life with you🫶

yourbff saying you’re not gonna let her leave is kinda creepy not gonna lie…

charles_leclerc you’re just jealous coz she doesn’t wanna go back to the us and wants to stay with me

friend4 you look so happy😁

instagram !

liked by fan1, fan2, and others

cl16updating recent pictures of charles with a puppy, fans who asked him about the dog say his name is leo and he is not charles dog but he is staying with him for a while!! we are also unsure who the girl in his car in the last picture is, if anyone has any idea please share her instagram @ with us!!!!!!!!

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fan1 omg he’s not his dog??? i’m devastated now i wanted leo paddock appearances

fan2 idk maybe if you guys find her instagram @ don’t share it,, if charles wanted us to know about her he’d share with us

fan3 if she doesn’t want us to know about her maybe she shouldn’t hang out with the prince of monaco

fan4 she should be able to hang with whoever she wants. some of y’all are so weird

fan5 imma steal that dog

fan6 that means we probs won’t get leo in the paddock😭

fan7 maybe leo is the girls’ dog and she’s a friend of charles visiting him or something idk

imessages !

translation 1: ‘i’ll miss you so much’

translation 2: ‘we can be crazy together, my love’

twitter !

instsgram !

youruser added to the story!

charles_leclerc added to his close friends story!

charles_leclerc replied to your story

↳ you always do baby

↳ god you’re so cheesy

↳ i hate you

↳ can we go back home i miss leo

↳ charlie babe leo will be fine by himself for 3 hours

↳ i know i know

↳ i just love him so much

you replied to charles_leclerc’s story

↳ CHARLIE DELETE

↳ THE DOGS ARE OUT😭😭😭

↳ LEO GOT OUT??????????????? WHERE IS HE ??? IS HE SAFE??? DID SOMEONE FIND HIM??:??;??/??

↳ omg baby no leo’s fine i’m sorry for worrying you

↳ why would you joke about that

↳ i think i nearly had a heart attack

↳ you’re more obsessed with leo than me

instagram !

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1wagupdates charles and his girlfriend (leo’s mum — we don’t know her name) this saturday. the owner of the first pic said that they were out for dinner with pascale, arthur, lorenzo, and their girlfriends.

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user1 she so beautiful oh my god

user2 where’s leo

user3 girl she doesn’t have to take him everywhere

user4 i think her name is y/n… my cousin in america said that she looks like someone she used to go to school with

user5 i looked through charles’ following and he follows a private account with that name @youruser

user6 ooo that could be her fs

user7 did she really leave leo alone.. she’s a bad owner wtf

user8 leo is a dog he’ll be ok by himself for a few hours omg you just want a reason to hate her go touch grass

twitter !

instagram !

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and others

charles_leclerc happy gorgeous amazing month ☺️❤️

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user1 CHARLES who is THAT

user2 Y/N CONTENT ON THE MAIN ‼️‼️‼️

carlossainz55 whipped

user3 omg is she playing his piano

user4 yes with her feet

youruser love love love you

charles_leclerc chérie💓💓

user4 anyone else think they’re moving REALLY quickly…. like i heard they’re living together already

user5 who CAREEESSSSS

user6 it’s none of our business

yourbff you’re all she talks about oh my GOD

charles_leclerc are you jealous

instagram !

liked by leclerc_pascale, yourbff, and others

youruser “too much, too soon” i’m living with him lol

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yourbff remember when we had conversations that weren’t about him

youruser wdym

yourbff i hate him

yourbff you’re OBSESSED with him

yourbff you guys are DISGUSTING

youruser you sound jealous

yourbff i AM. that little french driving man STOLE my best friend

charles_leclerc FRENCH????????

friend1 miss you 🫶🫶

joris__trouche ❤️

friend2 come visit soon we miss youuuu

friend3 you’re so so so gorgeous

charles_leclerc MON AMOURRR

charles_leclerc YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL I WANNA KISS YOUR FACE

yourbff can you get me a ticket to the miami gp so i can see my wife pls

charles_leclerc no you’re gonna try steal her back

yourbff @youruser ur boyfriend is being mean to me

youruser charlie i lost my miami paddock pass can you get me another one pls but like could you put it under the name y/bff/n y/bff/ln please, for no reason☺️

charles_leclerc okay baby💓💓

youruser stop it i love you so so much you’re so adorable😭

leclerc_pascale Leo ❤️

youruser he misses you 🥰

imessages !

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sanguineterrain · 8 months

Note

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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sinofwriting · 8 days

Text

Homecoming - Oscar Piastri/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 3,290 Summary: She hasn’t seen them since April and she can only hope that they aren’t mad that she lied to them. Note(s): Thank you @casperlikej for this commission! Had a lot of fun writing it! NSFW. Takes place in 2023. Reader is in the military. Reader is an American, who also somewhat grew up in the UK, but it’s all very vague. Also, don’t surprise people in showers, injuries can and will happen.

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes. “It’s okay, baby.” Logan says. Oscar nods, but there’s worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?” She nods, “yeah, they just gave me the wrong date. It wasn’t until I was talking to my CO about leaving that they realized. I should’ve said something sooner.” “It happens.” Oscar tells her and she can see through the computer screen the way his fingers twitch, obviously wanting to reach out, and her heart aches.

She misses them so much, both her boys. Hasn’t seen them since April when China got canceled and they both managed to get away from their teams to see her. But she hasn’t really seen them since last year, since 2022, when Oscar was just a reserve and Logan was in F2 with their weird spotty schedule. They didn’t have as many race dates or things to attend. They had spent so much time with her then.

“Do they have your next date for leave?” She shakes her head. “Not yet. I think they’re trying to figure out how they gave me the wrong date.” She shrugs. “But it could mean I get some extra time.” Oscar snorts but Logan nods. “You’ll let us know as soon as you can?” “Of course, Lo. As soon as they tell me, I’ll text you. Have a good day, though, both of you.” Both their noses wrinkle but they nod.

And with I love you’s exchanged, she hangs up, looking at the packed suitcase next to her. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too mad that she lied.

—

Being in the military wasn’t exactly something she planned on. Not as a little girl, not as a preteen and not at fifteen when she discovered she liked both her best friends.

But then she was seventeen wanting to apply to different colleges and programs and her parents had to sit down and tell her that while they had this nice house and the family home in Florida and cars and she hadn’t really wanted for anything, that was all they had. They didn’t have enough money for her to apply to three colleges, let alone the near twenty she wanted to.

It had been a fight instantly. Because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. And for the past year they had been telling her that it was okay and that she’d have college to figure that out and it had been a lie. She remembers throwing things in a bag and going to Oscar’s brand-new place, because he was already eighteen and his parents wanted him to be comfortable.

She remembers throwing herself in his arms and then Logan’s because of course Logan was also there. Remembers crying because it kind of felt like her world was ending. She remembers the way they both had soothed her, held her, let her rage and sob. She remembers the way after when she was more calmed down, the shock gone from her system, they presented a bunch of options for her.

Working with them, working for Oscar’s dad, working for Logan’s uncle, doing this in college and that, just something, anything that sounded appealing and she can remember how she shook her head after every option and how despite that they didn’t get frustrated or angry, they just said okay before offering another until they ran out of things to offer.

It was her uncle, though he wasn’t really her uncle, that told her she should think about the military. She laughed at first thinking he was joking, but he hadn’t laughed with her, instead looked at her seriously.

“You know that I served.” And she had nodded, she had faint memories of being in elementary school or even younger back in Florida and seeing him in uniform, medals and ribbons on his chest. “And you know I’ve said a lot about it. Never kept quiet.” “Rock and a hard place.” He smiled for a second at her words before looking all serious again. “Exactly. What I’m saying is, it’s an option. And nowadays, your contracts aren’t as long depending on the branch like when I enlisted and I’ve got friends.” “I don’t think I’ll like it.” He laughed at her words. “No one knows if they’ll like it until they are in it. Just think about it. It’s something and it will give you time, paid time, to figure out what you really want to do.”

And she had thought about it. She thought about the pros and the cons, how the cons outweigh the pros for her and she nearly didn’t go through with it because of Logan and Oscar. Because they just had to confess to her, tell her that they liked her, wanted to be with her and how could she not tell them the same when it was true? She couldn’t. She had nearly called it good, happy to bounce between them playing personal assistant or social media admin or something, they didn’t really know what she’d do going back and forth, but then she saw her uncle again, a week before she turned eighteen.

He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t brought it up, hadn’t even mentioned the military. But just seeing him reminded her of their conversation, of the way she spent hours upon hours after considering it.

Seeing him made her realize she had to go through with it.

She doesn’t really remember telling Logan and Oscar her decision. She remembers how they reacted, both surprised, unaware she had been considering it. Logan had been understanding, but he was from America just like her, he had family in the service. Oscar didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why. It hadn’t been a fight, not that she remembered, but she knew that her decision had nearly broken them that day.

—

“You reenlisting?” Her uncle's voice is gruff. “No, sir.” He grumbles, lips twitching into a smile. “Good. And don’t call me sir. You in reserves now?” She nods. “As of last week.” “Logan and Oscar know?” She throws him a look. “Why would you be driving me to Vegas if they knew?” He laughs. “Fair. They’re doing good, right? In their Formula One thing?” She smiles, “Yeah, they’re doing alright. Did you like COTA?” He shrugs, merging onto the freeway. “Didn’t understand it, but it was alright. Beer was overpriced.” “Always is at events.” “I remember when you could get a six-pack,” he starts and she mouths along with him, having heard this since she was ten, unable to not smile as she does so. “What?” He asks, seeing her smile. “Nothing.” She tells him. “Just happy to see you haven’t changed.”

—

Vegas is annoying, she decides as she waves her uncle off, the older man having decided to stick around and try his luck at one of the casinos. Or rather the traffic currently in Vegas is annoying.

Pulling out her phone she texts Benny letting him know that she’s at the hotel. Looking around she smiles at all the lights and people milling around. She’d give Vegas this, it was pretty cool to look at.

“Y/N!” She turns her head, smiling at Logan’s trainer. “You got here early!” He chuckles, pulling her into a hug that she returns with one arm, still having a hand on her suitcase. “We made good time. Switched off driving, so saved us a bit from having to stop really.” He pats her on the back before letting her go. “But it was good.” She nods. “All good. How are you? How are the kids?” He grins. “They’re good, amazing, really. Excited that the season is ending and I’ll be home.” “Logan was telling me that you aren’t going to be his trainer next season.” Benny sighs, looking sad as they step foot into the hotel. “The kids are getting older, I want to be there more. If there was a way I could stay on, but not have to go to all the races I would. I love the kid, he’s like one of mine.”

She looks at him considering. She’d been around Logan and Oscar for ten years now, had been around their trainers for over five years, seeing what they did had made it easy for her to choose her degree that the military paid for while she served a year after she joined.

“Maybe you could.” His eyebrow raises. “I have a degree in sports medicine.” “But you have a year left.” She shakes her head. “That last year is reserves, unless we are going to war and all the active reserves have been called, I’m not going back in.” “Logan didn’t say.” “They don’t know.” Benny makes a weird huff sound, shaking his head. “You're going to knock them off their feet this weekend.” She laughs. “Maybe. Just talk to Sarah about it first, I’ll follow you around this weekend and next and we can talk about it with Logan.” “I don’t have to talk about it with Sarah, she’d be thrilled, she wasn’t fond of the idea in the first place. And Logan…” He shakes his head. “If you think Logan won’t be jumping at the idea of having you around twenty-four seven, you’ve lost it.” “Still! Talk about it with Sarah first, just in case.”

He shakes his head, but agrees, handing her a key card as they stop in front of a hotel room door. “This is their room. Gentle with them.” “Kim ask you to relay that message as well?” “Yes.” She laughs, nodding. “I will. Promise.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin on his face. “Go. I’ll see at least two of you tomorrow.” “Bye Benny. Thank you again for helping me.” “Of course.”

She watches as he walks down the hallway before taking out his own key card and entering his hotel room, just a few rooms down. Turning back to face the hotel room door, excitement starts to fill her. She was finally going to see them, be with them.

Pressing the key to the reader, she holds her breath as she waits for the door to unlock, breathes again when it does and she twists the door knob, letting herself in.

The door swings open quietly and her feet and suitcase make no noise against the carpet as she steps inside. There’s the faint sound of the shower running and music playing, and a large smile spreads across her lips. This was the routine she was used to, that hadn’t changed. Them coming back to their hotel room or when finally checking in, getting what they needed put away if they were staying long enough and then putting on some music and hopping in the shower.

The door closes with a small click as she shuts it, kicking off her shoes next to Oscar’s and Logan’s as she does. She hopes as she puts her suitcase next to Logan’s, that the shower is big enough for the three of them, but they’ve made do with some fairly small showers before.

Stepping further into the hotel room, she nearly giggles at the song playing, able to hear it clearly now with the way the bathroom door isn’t completely closed. She loves them so much.

Spotting the dirty clothes bag she bought Oscar for Christmas last year as a stock stuffer, right by the bathroom door, propped against the wall and already filled with a pair of jeans, shorts, shirts and socks, she adds her own pants, shirt, underwear and socks. A quiet sigh leaving her when she takes her bra off, which she carefully places on the back of an armchair.

The bathroom tiles are warm underneath her feet and she lets out a little oh, having expected them to be cold.

Her eyes dart to the sink where the large mirror behind is covered in steam, but her eyes quickly leave it to settle on the shower.

It’s big, maybe just big enough for the three to fit in, but she can’t focus on that because Oscar and Logan are there. She can’t see much, the glass of the shower just as covered in steam as the mirror, but she can see the shapes of their bodies, close together, holding each other as the water hits them.

Taking a deep breath, she steps towards the shower door. She shivers as her fingertips press against the glass before fingers move to open it and poking her head in, voice soft as she looks at them. “Room for one more?” She watches as they separate, Oscar turning to look at her, and they both look at her with confusion and shock, before wide smiles take over their entire faces, eyes shining with happiness.

Oscar the closer of the two reaches forward and she quickly steps in, nearly slipping in her hurry, but Oscar has an arm around her before she can, tucking her into his chest, as Logan shuffles around. The door to the shower closes with a slight noise before his arms are around her as well.

Tension immediately leaves her body at the feeling of them both, and tears start to slip from her eyes. “I missed you guys so much.” “We missed you too, baby.” “So much.” Oscar echoes, arms tightening around her before loosening and she’s being pulled away slightly. She wants to protest, but then his lips are on hers and she moans, sinking into his kiss.

“Lo,” she whines when Oscar stops kissing her, lips tingling. Oscar chuckles, the sound rich and so familiar it wants to make her cry again, but she’s being turned around and Logan is kissing her, his palms cupping her cheeks. “I missed this so much.” Logan breathes against her lips. “Missed the three of us so much.” “Never again.” She tells him, tells Oscar, tells them. “Never again. I don’t have to go back, I’m in inactive reserves and I’m not reenlisting. I’m yours, both of yours.” The words come out in a rush, nearly tripping over each other, but she can’t wait, can’t have them thinking that this will just be a short reunion before she has to leave them again. “Thank god.” Logan breathes before pressing their lips together. “Thank god.” He murmurs again when they separate before she’s turned around to face Oscar again, who practically swallows her whole.

His lips are insistent on hers as his hands clutch at her hips, fingers digging painfully and she hopes that he leaves bruises, wishes that he’d make his grip even tighter, knows he can. She tries to pull away, to ask him to, but he keeps following her lips. Like if he isn’t kissing her, she’ll disappear, so she stops trying. Lets him kiss her, moans when Logan’s lips land on her shoulder, pressing kisses that trail up to the top of it and along the shell of her ear before trailing back down.

“We,” she gasps when Oscar finally stops kissing her, though his lips instead fall to her breasts going between the two, unable to decide which one he wants to give attention to more. “We can’t do this in here.”

The next moments are a blur as they scramble out of the shower, out of the bathroom and tumble into bed, soaking the duvet, pillows, and sheets with their wet naked bodies. It’s a blur of lips on hers, on her body, of fingers pressing and pulling. She remembers clearly the first press of fingers into her body, of Oscar’s tongue laving at her, of the kiss Logan and Oscar shared between her thighs. It blurs with her first and second orgasm.

She remembers clearly as well, the first sink of Oscar’s cock into her, her back to his chest as he laid down, the way he pressed all the way into her, not letting her adjust. She doesn’t remember the apparent fumble for lube or the first two fingers that Logan had carefully sunk into her alongside Oscar’s cock. She remembers the stretch of his three fingers and Oscar’s cock, and finally the stretch of him sinking into her as well. The near painful stretch of having both of them inside her at the same time, in the same hole.

Her mind is still blurry, still coming down from pleasure when they finally break the silence of just trying to catch their breaths and music still playing from the bathroom.

“That was so good.” She makes a small noise in agreement. “You felt so good.” Oscar says, kissing her shoulder and she shudders at the feeling. “You both did.” And she can hear the sound of Oscar kissing Logan. “Logan’s gonna hold you now, okay.” Oscar tells her as she still lays somewhat on top of him. “Both of your legs are shaking.” That makes her blink and look down, swallowing hard because she hadn’t even realized hers were shaking. “And I need to clean you up and get some water for all us, okay?” She nods.

Despite him telling her that, she still nearly whines when he moves out from under her, but he quickly pushes her into Logan’s arms who eagerly holds her close. She hadn’t seen if his legs were shaking as well like Oscar said, but she doubts it with the way Logan manages to turn her around in his arms and pull her so she’s on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest just the way he likes.

“Love you so much, baby.” Logan murmurs into her hair. “You were so good for us. Just fell apart over and over again. Gave us five orgasms.” She makes a surprised sound. That didn’t sound right. “A whole five, baby. It was fucking amazing.” She nuzzles into his neck and he continues speaking, knowing the sound and feeling is soothing.

He stops when Oscar comes back, making a tutting noise at how they are positioned which makes her mumble Logan’s name and Oscar runs a hand down her calf.

“I know, darling. You’re alright. You though,” and she can picture the way Oscar is looking at Logan, pointing a finger at him. “How am I supposed to clean you up?” She feels Logan shrugs as best as he can with her on top of him. “The way you usually do.” The younger makes a huffing sound but is quiet. She can feel his breath against her leg as he most likely bends.

Logan makes a small noise and she kisses his neck. “Cold?” “No, it’s warm.” He reassures her. She hums and when it’s her turn she doesn't even jolt at the feeling of the washcloth running over her most sensitive parts and her thighs. “Alright, you two, you both got to sit up to drink some water.” Oscar says, as he climbs back into bed with them. Logan grumbles and she turns her head to watch as Oscar gets comfy with his back against the headboard, three water bottles on his nightstand.

He’s still naked, probably not even thinking of pulling on underwear or sweats on and it makes her want to curl up in his lap. He seems to feel her eyes on him because he smiles, all soft, sweet, fond and he’s opening his arms and she carefully moves off Logan to do what she thought about it.

Her head rests on his shoulder, as she sits sideways on his lap, facing Logan, who watches them both with that awestruck look of his as he sits up and scoots closer until him and Oscar are sitting side by side and he can draw her feet into his lap, stilling letting her stay curled up in Oscar’s lap, but getting some contact with her.

“Love you both.” “We love you too.”

@darleneslane @copper-boom @eutrizbea @kimmib13 @elliegrey2803 @stopeatread @hiireadstuff @tallrock35

#loscar x reader #oscar piastri x reader x logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #sins 5k bday bash fics

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

Note

would LOVE a follow up to the brother’s best friend eddie fic where adam finds out they hooked up and just kinda loses it. maybe some angst with a happy ending if you do? i love the fic and thought all the details and feelings were perfect!

I'm so glad you enjoyed the first part! I hope this is up to your expectations. 🤗

cw: Allusions to smut, Mentions of depression, angst with a fluffy ending.

Tag list from part 1: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow@itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

Wc: 2k

Read Part 1 here

What Adam Doesn’t Know | Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Ten days. It has been ten days since you slept with Eddie, and you haven't heard a word from him since he kissed you goodbye that next morning. He confessed to having feelings, so why is he treating you like a one-night stand? He hasn't taken any further steps since he fucked you. The situation left you feeling angry, frustrated and used. You wanted to talk to him, but you'll be damned if you were the one to reach out first. Sure, you were stubborn, but you also loved him. So you waited to give him another chance.

Eddie thought things would be okay after he got you out of your system. He just needed to scratch the itch that was you. Wrong.

Eddie was even more obsessed with you and didn’t know what to do about it. He knew Adam would be so not okay with this. He has already expressed his disdain about Eddie pursuing you.

Adam and Eddie have been through a lot together. Adam supported Eddie through family struggles and being held back in high school. Adam has always been there for Eddie, no matter what. The guilt is eating away at him...if he's hiding the fact that he slept with you and has developed feelings for you? He was screwed.

You were browsing the junk food aisle at the grocery store. Try to pick up your favourites to help you wallow in self-pity and eat your feelings. Just as you were to reach for the Doritos, you heard your name.

“Tink,” you look over your shoulder.

“Oh. Hi Eddie,” you turn back to face the aisle.

“Tink, please; I’m sorry”

“No, I get it. I’m just another notch on your belt.”

“No. You are the last thing from that, and you know it.”

“Do I, Eddie?”

“Ugh, I know! I know I screwed up. But let me explain? Please?”

“You have five minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Tink. I’m not avoiding you on purpose… it’s just that Adam had said something, and I didn’t want to keep this from him, but I didn’t know what you wanted to do... We didn't get to talk much.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that you and I were never going to happen. That he thinks it’s ridiculous.”

“So what, you believe him?”

“What? No!”

“So what, Eddie? Adam is a moron.”

“And so am I for not calling you. Please let me make it up to you. I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?” Your heart betrayed you by fluttering.

“Yes, a real all-American date. I’ll pick you up; I’ll bring you flowers. I can take you to dinner, then I’ll take you to the movies where we can suck face, and you let me feel you up in the back of the theatre. The whole shebang”

This made you giggle.

“What do you say?”

“Okay, Eddie,” you smiled.

It was late morning, and you were waking up in Eddie's bed. It's been three weeks since you ran into him in the grocery store. You were officially dating' you were Eddie's girl, and I couldn't be any happier.

You weren’t dating secretly because Robin and Nancy knew about the relationship, but you weren’t telling Adam... yet.

"Morning baby," Eddie's gravelly morning voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were both naked under the covers. Eddie's morning wood was pressed up against your outer thigh as you lay on your back.

"Morning," you reply, still sleepy.

"You cold?" Eddie saw the goosebumps pepper your skin.

"mmm hmmm"

"Well, let me fix that," he smirked.

Eddie had you on all fours, screaming his name over and over as he fucked you from behind. He was so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He had you so cockdrunk you couldn't form any thoughts. In your opinion, it was one of the best times you've had, but any time you have sex with Eddie, it seems to top that last.

As you flop down on the bed, all blissed out from your orgasm and your limbs feeling like jelly, Eddie gets up to get a damp cloth to clean you up.

You watched as Eddie pulled on his sweatpants and walked out of the room.

Eddie unexpectedly saw Adam sitting on his couch watching TV as he exited his bedroom.

"What the hell?! Shit man, you scared me.” Eddie chuckled uncomfortably. God, he hoped you stayed in the room.

“So this the same chick you keep blowing me off for?” He motioned to the bedroom, obviously hearing everything.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“We were jamming.”

“Shit, oh god, dude i'm sorry, I lost track of the time-”

“I can’t be too mad; she sounded like a really good time.” He winked.

“Adam.”

"What?! You really fucked her brains out. She was all, oh my god, Eddie, you're the best. You're the biggest I've ever had," he said in a high-pitched tone.

You swore you heard Eddie speaking but didn't hear the phone ring?

“Baby, what’s taking so long? I miss you.” You walk out of the room not bothering to put on anything. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” You run back screaming into the bedroom when you see your bother.

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK”

“Man, I can explain.”

“YOURE FUCKING MY SISTER”

“Well yea but it’s not like that… I like her dude”

“How long.”

“What”

“How long have you been going behind my back”

“Look we were going to tell you”

You bravely walk back out with a shirt and pants on this time

“Adam, calm down, please.” You beg as you intertwine your fingers with Eddie. He needs your support.

“Calm down?!”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been going behind my back, Ed?”

“The first time was a month ago.” You spoke up.

“How did this even happen?”

I found her crying walking home in the rain; she needed a place to stay...”

“Oh well, isn't that romantic... NOT”

“Adam, you seriously need to chill the fuck out,” you ask.

“Fuck you.” Adam directed back to you.

“Hey!” Eddie got defensive.

“You don’t get to be mad right now.” Adam pointed out.

“You’re being so unfair, Adam.” you spoke.

“Unfair? I’ll give you unfair. Eddie you have to choose right now. It’s me or her.”

“What !?” You cried.

“Come on, man...” Eddie begged.

“No, dude. You can’t have us both. It’s either me or her.”

You can't believe your brother. He is being so childish. Can't he see the good in the situation?

“Tink I…” Eddie's voice shook.

“No... I get it. You can’t ever choose me over him.” You tried so hard not to let your voice crack.

Oh, how you wished you were a kid again to wallop Adam.

“You take everything nice thing I have and ruin it. You did that with my stuff and my toys. And now you’re doing it with my real life, and it’s fucked up, Adam. Be lucky that I don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“They can’t do anything. I’m an adult.”

“Then start acting like one and not some kid who got his truck stolen on the playground.” With that, you slammed the door behind you.

It has been two weeks since you left Eddie's apartment. You have yet to speak to either Eddie or Adam since then. Unfortunately, you both had to go home for Reading week, and your only option for a ride home was with Adam. It was a very silent hour-long car ride as Adam drove home the both of you. You refused to speak to him.

You didn't even know why you respected Adam's wishes; he couldn't tell you what to do! But then again, they were Eddie's wishes as well.

You hugged your mom and dad hello and went to your old bedroom. There, you stayed for the night, not coming down to eat or socialize. Your mother was worried. She knew something was wrong.

“Honey. Is there anything you want to talk about?” She opened the door the next morning.

“Yea. You birthed the spawn of Satan.”

“So this is about your brother...” she sighed. She must be really tired of having to be in the middle of you two fighting all the time. “What happened?”

You can no longer hold in your feelings. The only people who know are Robin and Nancy because you broke down when you returned to your apartment.

“I finally had Eddie! Like he actually likes me back, Mom!” It was no secret to your family that you’ve been obsessed with Eddie Munson your whole life. “He likes me, and Adam made him choose between me and him! So obviously, he chooses Adam!" Now you’re sobbing.

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Because he has to take everything good in my life and ruin it. It’s been that way ever since we were kids.”

“Honey…”

“You know it’s true. So now I’m heartbroken because I got to experience what it was like to be with him, and it was ripped out from under me.” She sighed again as she stroked your hair.

“I’m going to have your father speak to him.”

“Like that will do anything.” You mumble.

The next day, you decide you need to leave your room.

You’re in what you call your depression outfit. A hoodie, actually, it’s Eddie’s, sweatpants, matched with your throw blanket wrapped around you.

You plant yourself on the couch for the rest of the day. Most of your spring break consisted of being depressed and moving from the couch to your bed. Were you being dramatic? Yes, but you needed to prove a point. You needed Adam to see how his selfishness affected you.

"You really still not speaking to me?" Adam finally breaks the silence on your way back to school.

You don't even look in his direction.

"Come on, Tink! This is ridiculous!"

"No! You are ridiculous. You may have your best friend choose between you and his girlfriend.

"Girlfriend?!"

Yea, Adam. We were together. Like together, together. We weren't just fucking behind your back."

"I- I didn't-"

"You wouldn't have because you didn't, let's explain. You made it the Adam special. Like you always do. Newsflash, not everything is about you."

"Well, it freaked me out! I didn't want to lose him to you."

"How could you lose him to me? If anything, you would see more of me, not the other way around."

"Ugh!"

"How is he doing?" You dared to ask.

"He's miserable." He mumbled.

"Oh, Adam."

"Yea, yea, I know I have to fix this."

Adam pulls up to your student housing unit, and you can see Eddie sitting on your front porch. You sprint out of the car before Adam even puts the car in park, running into Eddie's arms, not caring about what Adam sees.

“I can’t do this. I can’t not see you or talk to you. I’ve been miserable without you.” He wraps his arms around you.

“Eddie-” your heart swelled. He was choosing you.

“Please, I don’t care what Adam says anymore. He can get over it. He will get over it. But I have to be with you.”

"Hey, man," Adam greeted.

"Hey," you moved so you faced Adam, but Eddie's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.

"Look, I uh... I overreacted, and if she makes you happy, then... I guess I'm cool with it." He shrugged.

"Thanks, Man." You looked up to see Eddie smiling.

"I don't want to hear about any more sext stuff between you two. I still have PTSD." He laughed uncomfortably.

With that, Eddie got your bags from the car, and Adam left the two of you to be alone.

You walked into your house, and the girls weren't back yet; they wouldn't be coming back until tomorrow.

"You came back for me." You smiled before tilting your head up to kiss him.

“I was not letting him take away the best sex I’ve ever had; he can get over it.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had, huh?”

“With the best girl I’ve ever had.” He smiled before you led him to your bedroom...

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #requests #TJ’s mailbox

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iateyourparents · 4 months

Note

MORE JAKE PLS

Maybee like doing a stream with him in the car or filming a video where he takes us shopping and buys everything for us kinda like the vid where he ‘becomes’ johnnies ‘sugar daddy’ and we share a lil kiss hehehehe :3

sugar daddy | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: jake records a new video for his channel with you.

warnings: use of y/n, short, jake being little rich boy, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thankss love! i’m not sure if i’m content with how it turned out but i hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest :)

“Today I’m gonna be the hottest American sugar daddy once again!” Jake started his video “But today my sugar baby is my girl, y/n!” you waved to the camera “How do you feel?”

“Already spoiled.” you laughed.

“Yeah, cause he totally doesn’t buy you everything you want without camera too.” Johnnie snorts from behind the camera and you laugh at that too.

It’s true, Jakes loves to spoil you without any reason. It’s tuesday? Here’s earrings that you were looking at on Monday. You’re on your period? I ordered you those shoes that you said were pretty. You loved it about Jake but also it made you feel bad that you don’t buy him as many things as he buys for you, but like he always says, if he wasn’t supposed to spoil you then he wouldn’t have so much money.

“Everything for my baby.” Jake shrugged with wide smile “So where do you wanna go first?”

“Zara?” you offered and he nodded. Then he took your hand and started to lead you towards said shop while talking to the camera about how buying you pretty things, somehow makes him happy.

“Alright, any plans on what are we looking for?” Jake asked you.

“Yeah actually, I saw this pretty skirt on their website and I would like to try it on.” you said “Also, I saw the cutest sweater with little hearts.”

“Aww, let’s get it, I’m sure you will look great.” Jake stated and on your way to the sweaters area he took few things that he thought would look great on you. And well, he wasn’t wrong.

Your next stop was at hot topic where he bought you some things without even consulting it with you first but like he said, he wanted it to be a surprise for you.

Then you went to eat something and you were sure his fans would be making a kiss count in the comments with how many kisses he stole from you and how many pecks he left all over your face.

Few more stores and you were done recording. You had seven bags with things he bought you and you really felt bad for his wallet but he only waved his hand stating that it was a pleasure for him and he wouldn’t mind doing it again, but you obviously didn’t agree for that. He already bought you too many things and you weren’t sure if you ever would be able to pay him back for how much he spoiled you, both with material things and with love and kisses.

He was perfect.

So when next day he came back home, you surprised him with a dinner, dessert, few presents and much love.

“You know, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you.” He stated when you were cuddling in bed.

“You? I don’t know what I did so right that I got you.” you giggled.

“You’re just perfect.” his smile couldn’t be wider “I actually ordered you those cute heels with bows.”

“Jake…” you squinted your eyes at him “You’re insane, did you see how much they cost?”

“Yeah. But it’s just money. It will come back but you deserve it.” he kissed your forehead.

“You should cancel the order anyway.” you lightly slapped his chest.

“No way.”

And well, Jake wouldn’t be opposed spending all his money on you if you would pay him back like that.

#jake webber x reader #jake webber #sam and colby #snc #johnnie guilbert #colby brock #colby #sam golbach #sam #tara yummy #tarayummy

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thejujvtsupost · 8 months

Note

Can i please request some wedding day headcanons for Gojo? Like how he proposes and the day itself and the honeymoon 👀 thank you ❤️

Gojo on Your Wedding Day

I have no idea how this got away from me honestly but here we are. I’ll do a separate post for an extra spicy honeymoon later but it ended up too cute and wholesome to add smut. Also this is from a western/American standpoint of wedding practices. I’m relatively familiar with ‘traditional’ ceremonies but not well versed in modern Japanese wedding practices. I know some people prefer traditional over modern/vice versa but I’m not knowledgeable enough on the specifics so I hope you don’t mind. <3

Notes: F!reader, marriage proposals, implied nsfw, nervous Gojo and lots of fluff.

For @joyfulenthusiastwitch

First of all, Gojo is such a boy fail.

Like seriously, a total boy fail. Asking you out was an accomplishment in itself- and you’re literally his closest friend. He’s all smooth and put together until it comes to romance. He tripped over his own feet and he stuttered.

The great Gojo Satoru, stuttered.

Of course you found that hilarious and struggled to not laugh at him- until he finished with “Will you date on me?” And you lost it. You nodded and agreed but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

It’s okay though, because he was laughing with you. He built it up asking you out in his head so bad and you didn’t even hesitate. So he’s laughing with you and at himself, it’s just you after all, he doesn’t know why he was so worried.

You started a real relationship (his very first one!) after three dates. You laugh and learn, and you take things in stride together.

Gojo tries his hardest- too hard sometimes. He read somewhere that relationships shouldn’t have secrets and that resulted in him revealing every single secret about himself.

“I never wear my pants just once, I hardly ever do laundry and I reuse them to make them last- as long as there isn’t a stain.” -you tell him pretty much everyone wears their pants more than once. But to him it’s a secret because he grew up in such a prestigious clan and that wouldn’t be acceptable.

And “I don’t like washing my hands unless the soap is scent free. I’d rather use hand sanitizer.”

None of these things are necessary. You live together now, he does laundry and you already figured out his preference for scent free soaps after the bottle of pumpkin spice hand soap at your friend’s house made him gag. -He didn’t want to be called out for not washing his hands, anyone would be able to tell if he hadn’t because the scent was so strong.

Cut to three years later and he’s back at it again.

He doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He took that too seriously and it stuck. But now he’s definitely keeping something from you and it’s irritating because you’ve never had to press him for anything. You’ve never felt like you were on the outside of an inside joke with him. And it goes from irritating to just hurtful when he comes home super late

“Sorry baby, I was hanging out with Nanami.”

Spent hours ring shopping because he’s picky and couldn’t find the perfect one.

You kept face, but you already asked Nanami where he was when you got worried and he said he hadn’t seen Gojo all day.

You know there’s a lot he can’t tell you, but he’s never kept personal secrets from you and this obviously was one.

You’re five seconds away from confronting him after he comes home four hours late without a heads up or a simple text. You aren’t controlling but he has a dangerous life and he always used to text you at least- and you were always understanding! You didn’t know what you did to be treated differently.

He’s got something behind his back and he’s sweating, and Gojo doesn’t sweat. You’re concerned more than anything else. Nothing else matters, you can be angry and hurt after you make sure he’s okay.

“Baby what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You get up from the couch and reach out to touch his face but he dodges and refuses to let you get closer.

“Just hold on, please? I finally found it and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Wait for what toru?”

His breath hitches and you don’t know if he’s gonna start crying or hyperventilating or both. Then he’s on not one, but both knees in front of you. Again, boy fail.

So he’s struggling to get his words out but he’s determined. He found the perfect ring for you and he knows he should plan out how to ask but he can’t he needs you to wear it immediately- assuming you say yes. He needs everyone to know you’re his.

He’s always been a possessive man, he tries to hide it and be respectful. He just reinforces how cute you look in his clothes, prompting you to wear his hoodie to the grocery store and other little things. A ring is the ultimate “she’s taken” and he doesn’t even have to be present. Everyone will already know. (not that he doesn’t trust you!)

“So the relationship- our couple, is nice I think.”

You tilt your head because what the fuck is he even saying??

“I mean you’re really nice. And cute too. And you love me so that’s… nice.” He cringes and looks so pitiful.

You decide to throw him a bone. “Slow down, you sound like you’re having a stroke in kindergarten.” You get on your knees in front of him, getting on his level.

But no that’s not what’s supposed to happen! It’s not part of his plan! He’s supposed to be the only one on the floor- he scrambles to stand up and pulls you up with him, guiding you to the couch. Except… is that a ring box that he dropped nearby?

Then it clicks for you, and you feel giddy but you’re so fond of him. “I think you dropped something baby.” You point to the box on the floor and he groans.

“Aw fuck-” he picks it up and kneels at your feet, you hand in his and presents it to you- he’s not sure where his speech went but he’s looking up at you from the floor.

And that’s when he hits you with “Marry you me?” And then his head falls into your lap with another groan and several expletives.

Of course you lost your shit, laughing so hard you’re crying while running your fingers through his hair to reassure him. “Yeah, I’ll marry you me.” You managed to get out between giggles and he finally pulls back to look at you.

You’re smiling at him and his face is red- so red. He’s grumbling when he’s sliding the ring on your finger and then finally leaning forward to kiss you with his own smile.

Again, he’s not sure why he got himself so worked up. It’s just you, you’re his person. The anxiety, while worth it, was unnecessary.

And after the laughter he gets choked up, “I love you so much, so much.”

That night the bed needs replaced- because of reasons.

A year later you’re headed towards him down the aisle.

And during your vows he doesn’t stutter at all- he’s not nervous or shy about how much he loves you. Everyone already knows how down bad he is.

The wedding is relatively small, your dress is so beautiful and he thinks you look like a cloud.

When he tells you that little thought later on during the reception it results in: “Just because cloud are white doesn’t mean everything white is a cloud, Satoru.” He pouts, because obviously. But you just giggle and kiss him on the cheek.

And he’s honestly just so happy to be there with you- he was never one for “real relationships” and now he’s married.

He’s married to you.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #asks

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bluewasthecolor · 1 year

Text

What Can I Do (So You Feel It Too)?

Word Count: 2318

Warnings: None

A/N: Well, this accidentally got a little long. If people want a part two, that could definitely happen! Let me know if you like this one! Also, I don't only write for Leah so feel free to send requests for other woso players.

You don't even get it, no, you don't understand

I want you, but I know I'm only one of your friends

“Come on, Y/N! We’re gonna be late to dinner and Viv’s gonna kill us!” Leah shouts from the other room. You poke your head out of your bedroom, smirking.

“Chill out, dude. We’ll be twenty minutes late tops. It’d be weird if we were exactly on time, anyway.”

“Chill out, dude” The Brit teases, making fun of your American-ness as she always does.

Fifteen minutes later you’re ready to go–thirty minutes after you were supposed to be at Viv and Beth’s. Leah hems and haws the whole drive over about how if Viv got mad at the both of you she would make clear that it was absolutely your fault and if you had just worn the first shirt this all could have been avoided. You don’t hear most of it, if you’re being honest. Most of your attention is focused on your phone and the person texting you. When she pulls into Viv and Beth’s driveway, Leah glances over at you, realizing that your attention has been taken from her. “I thought I was the only one who could make you smile like that. What’s going on over there Y/L/N?”

“I’ve been talking to someone,” you answer, “He’s really sweet, I think you’d like him. We’re going on a date next week.”

Leah’s smile fades, just a little, when you say that. You don’t notice, of course, you never have. You don’t notice any of the little signs–the way she looks at you (like you hung the moon), the way she says your name (like your name is a prayer), or the way she smiles when you enter a room (like all the light was gone until you walked in). It’s been like this for years, ever since that one night (that one dress). Leah’s used to it by now, she knows you only see her as a friend, but it still hurts. When you talk about the people you’re dating she can’t help but wish it was her.

6 Months Later

You know you're too good for him but if it were me

I'd give you everything

Everything is crashing down around you. Or that’s how it feels anyway. You leave your (his?) apartment, trying to process what’s just happened. Somehow you end up at Leah’s, standing in front of the door trying to decide whether or not you should knock. What if she has company? What if she isn’t home? You decide you’re being silly–she’s your best friend. She’ll understand, and if not you can just leave.

When Leah opens the door she can immediately tell something is wrong. Your cheeks are stained with tears, your nose is running, your hair is unbrushed, and you are inexplicably wearing two different shoes. She, on the other hand, is all dressed up. Suddenly you feel like an idiot.

“Y/N? What’s going on? ” She looks at you with concern, waiting for you to explain.

“I-he-we, we had a fight. A bad one. I didn’t know where to go. I forgot you had that event tonight. I’m so sorry, I should just lea-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, Leah interrupts you by pulling you into her arms, enveloping you in a hug.

The tears start again as soon as she wraps her arms around you. She holds you until you’ve stopped shaking, and once you’re done she leans back, placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Never, ever, apologize for coming to me when you’re upset. I’m your best friend. That's what I’m here for. Now come in, please.”

“Thank you, Leah. Really.” You sniffle, following her to the couch. You sit and she crouches in front of you.

“Don’t thank me. I already told you, that’s why I’m here. Let me just change out of these clothes, I’ll be right back.” She leaves you sitting on the couch.

You take the moment alone to check your phone. He’s texted you three times (You can’t just leave when we’re in the middle of a fight. This is so immature Y/N, I can’t believe you. Please just come back.) and left you one voicemail (“This isn’t how adults react when shit happens Y/N. I don’t know where you are, but if you don’t come back by tomorrow night I’ll change the locks. You can’t do this.”). Just as you finish listening to the voicemail, Leah returns. She sits on the couch facing you, taking your hands in hers.

“Tell me everything.”

You breathe deeply, willing yourself not to cry again.

“We were cooking dinner. I made some comment about winning the Champions League this season and he laughed. Like, out loud, laughed at me. He said he’d be impressed if we made it past Bayern.” You glance up. Leah is looking at you intently, her expression shifting from concern to anger as you continue to speak. “That just set something off in me I guess, I don’t know. We got into a screaming match and I just had to get out of there. It’s like-he just doesn’t believe in me. He doesn’t support me. He left me a voicemail saying he’s gonna change the locks to our place if I’m not back by tomorrow night. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do Leah, please.”

You finish your story and Leah doesn’t speak. Instead, she gets up, pacing to the kitchen sink and getting two glasses of water. When she returns, she passes you a glass of water and finally breaks her silence.

“Look, Y/N. I think you know he’s not good enough for you. I don’t think I need to tell you that, so I won’t.” She pulls you into her side, your head coming to rest on her shoulder. “I can’t tell you what to do, you have to make your own decision. I will say that you deserve somebody who makes you feel your absolute best–not someone who laughs at your dreams. You should be with someone who is kind and loving. You’re my best friend and seeing you hurt like this is so hard. I’ll be here for you no matter what, just think about it.”

You turn your head to look up at her, tears sliding down your cheeks once again. She places her hand on your cheek, wiping each tear away gently. Neither of you say anything for the next five minutes or so, Leah’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, protecting you. You’re not sure what you would do without her. Every time someone breaks your heart, she’s there to pick up the pieces. When you had that injury last year she stayed at your apartment to take care of you. She’s your favorite person in the entire world. Leah shifts next to you, breaking you out of your daze. She is starting to doze off, and you suddenly realize how late it is.

“I’ll go, I’m sorry to keep you up so late.” You stand to leave, but are stopped by Leah’s hand encircling your wrist.

“You don’t have to go. Not back to him. Not if you don’t want to. Stay here tonight, deal with him in the morning. You can stay in my room with me.”

You smile softly, pulling her off the couch. She leads the way to her room, passing you one of her old t-shirts to sleep in. You pull it on, breathing in the way it smells, like laundry detergent and Leah. You clamber into bed next to her, lying on your side so you’re facing one another. Leah searches your face for any sign of how you’re feeling. The two of you have done this (sleeping in the same bed) countless times. Drunk nights out, drunk nights in, when one of you just didn’t want to be alone. This time felt different, somehow. She couldn’t place it, but this was different.

“So I guess I’m breaking up with my boyfriend tomorrow.” You murmur.

(About) Two Weeks Later

'Cause I swear that you feel it, but then I second guess

I don't know if you see us how I do in my head

You’ve basically moved into Leah’s apartment. After the break up, you realized you had nowhere to go, so now every night is a sleepover. You’ve fallen into something of a domestic routine. You cook and Leah washes the dishes. Leah drives to training and you pick the music. You fall asleep next to each other but always wake up spooning (the big spoon changes, although Leah won’t admit it). Nothing has changed but so has everything. You’re still best friends but Leah swears to herself that there’s something more there. The way you watch her when you think she’s not looking (like you’re afraid you’ll forget the way she moves), the way you listen to her (like her word is the gospel), or the way you hold her (like you never want to let go). Maybe none of this is new. Maybe it’s been there all along. But then you do things like call her your best friend and tell her she needs to go on a date, that it’s been “too long” and she wonders if she’s wrong. It terrifies her that she might be wrong, but even more that she might be right.

'Cause I just wanna say it but I'm scared if I do

You weren't looking at me the way I look at you

“Leah, be a doll and grab my dress for the wedding? It should be hanging in the closet.” You shout from the bathroom, as Leah lounges on the bed waiting for you to finish getting ready.

She carries your dress into the bathroom, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. It’s not that she’s never seen you in just your underwear before–you’re teammates for goodness’ sake–but this feels different somehow. You turn around, a smile playing at your lips.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Come on, we've gotta get going. Zip me up?” You wriggle into your dress, sweeping your hair to the side.

After the wedding, Leah can’t help but think you look more beautiful now then she’s ever seen you (except maybe that one night with that one dress). You chat with the other guests, smiling effortlessly and making everyone around you laugh. She catches your eye and you excuse yourself, making your way back to your table.

“Having fun yet, Williamson?” You ask, dropping into the seat next to her. She smirks, but doesn’t respond, drinking in the moment.

“I still think you need to go on a date. There’s so many single women here it’s basically a dating convention. Let me pick someone out for yo–her!” You point to a woman standing at the bar, “She’s pretty. Go buy her a drink.”

“It’s an open bar, you idiot. And I’m not ready yet. I told you.” She snaps, her smile gone.

You hold up your hands in apology, deciding to let it go (for now). The two of you sit in silence, watching the antics of all the other guests. You can’t understand why she doesn’t want to date. She’s been single for almost a year and it’s not like she hasn’t had opportunities. You know for a fact that she gets asked out almost everywhere she goes. You make a mental note to talk to her about it later–maybe she just needs a pep talk.

As the night goes on you drink more and talk less, dancing with your friends and trying to get Leah to join you. As the designated driver of the evening, she stopped drinking after the champagne toast, and dancing with drunk people isn’t quite as fun when she’s sober (plus she’s not sure she can trust herself not to grab your waist and move behind you). You eventually give up, pulling one of Ruesha’s cousins in to dance with you. This is enough for Leah, seeing her move behind you the way she wishes she could. Leah stands and stalks over to you, stopping just short of the dance floor.

“Time to go Y/N.” She says, her eyes cold.

You pout but follow her to the car. The ride home is also silent–you are fighting to keep your eyes open and Leah isn’t in the mood to talk.

Once home, Leah heads inside without a word to you. Mostly sobered up from the drive, you follow her inside confused. She flops onto the bed, her hands over her eyes. You sit gingerly next to her, placing a hand on her arm.

“What’s up Leah? You’ve been acting weird all night. Did I do something?” “No. Yes. I don’t know…” She groans, uncovering her face and sitting up. “It’s just…why do you want me to start dating so badly?”

“I-I just want you to be happy, Leah. I don’t want you to feel like I’m getting in the way of your life. I know I’ve been staying here for a long time.”

“Really? That’s it?” She arches an eyebrow at you, challenging you to say something else. You don’t, just look at your hands.

“Look, Y/N,” She sighs, “I don’t need you to set me up. I can handle my own dating life. Please understand that.” “But I don’t understand Leah, that’s the problem. We’ve always set each other up. Is it because of your last relationship? Are you scared of getting hurt again? Because if that’s it–” “No, that’s not it.” Leah cuts you off. “ It’s different now. Do you really not know? Have I read this so wrong that you don’t see what’s happening?”

You just look at her confused. She sighs, mustering up the courage. “I love you Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

#woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #leah williamson

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b0nten · 1 year

Note

Heyy! Hope you had an amazing day! I was if you could do everyone in toman (it doesn’t have to be everyone) reacting to y/n who is a member, speaking a different language. Like their in the middle of a meeting and their phone just starts ringing from a family member or friends?

-XOXO 🥖

MRS. WORLDWIDE

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ the gang reacting to you speaking a different language all of a sudden

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ [everything written like this is in a different language] ; f/l — first language

you roll your eyes at the boys.

“as i was saying, my job is to keep you all under control, but i’m not your guys’ mother!”

“i think you’re kind of unreasonable, y/n-san!” peh-yan protests. “just becau— ”

your phone interrupts peh-yan.

“oop, sorry! what..?” your face drops as you see who’s calling you.

“is there anything wrong, chief commander y/n?” draken enquires.

“it’s an unknown number, is it alright if i take the call here?”

the vice president nods and you pick up the phone.

“moshi moshi?” your voice trembles a little bit, but as you hear the annoyance on the other side, you sigh and laugh in relief.

“[ain’t NO fucking way you just answered me with that moshi moshi shit, y/n!]”

“[it’s not my fault, ok? i was not sure who you were. did you change your number?]”

“[yeah, i got a secret phone since my mom confiscated my old one]”

“she did say it was an unknown number, but holy fuck i never expected f/l to sound like this. when she speaks it full volume” nahoya laughs.

“… she speaks… so fast?” mucho’s mouth drops open as he watches your lips and hears your voice spit out word after word.

“what was that guy’s name..the blond, american one” a purple head turns to hakkai.

“eminem? there’s lots of blond, american guys, taka-chan!” he huffs

“oh, right! eminem! she talks just like eminem!” mitsuya adds to the conversation.

“ken-chin..” mikey’s contemplating something.

“yeah?”

“how many languages does y/n speak?” he continues curiously.

“well, at least three: f/l, japanese and english that we know of.”

“she also takes mandarin in school!” chifuyu yells from across the room.

“what?? seriously?!” baji, seated right next to him, confusedly exclaims.

“what the fuck do you think she does every wednesday, when she doesn’t leave school at the same time as us?”

“i don’t know, man. i thought she was hooking up with the bio teacher.” baji shrugs, but a sudden rush of anger pierces his body. “i should beat that shit up, he’s way too flirty and friendly with her!”

“soo.. ” you finally re-enter the conversation, “what were we talking about?”

“we wanted to convince you to teach us some of your ‘discipline’” pah-chin reminds.

“oh, yeah, not happening. learn it yourself, guys!”

the boys’ disappointment echoes through tens and tens of their protests, but as much as they can cry, just as much can you deny. and you taking your time to teach them something that is not necessarily‘teachable’ instead of practicing mandarin? ain’t no way.

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

Note

Author Reader: I have published a new book, inspired by American McGee's Alice. Since it more fantasy horror, the rouges shouldn't be as interested in it as the others! Joker/Scarecrow: Have you ever met Hatter before? Reader: Excuse me, what?

Horror!Author!Reader: Finally, something that may get you deranged so-called fans of mine to give me some space; an Alice in Wonderland inspired horror-fantasy-thriller.

Yandere Joker/Scarecrow: Oh, boy….we wouldn’t do that if we were you. Like, we don’t doubt it’ll be absolutely amazing but Hatter is going to be all over this one and then we’ll have to deal with him trying to take part in book club back at Arkham.

Horror!Author!Reader: I’m sorry but who now?

Mad Hatter bursting through the door: DID SOMEONE SAY ALICE IN WONDERLAND?!?!?!?!?!??

If the Reader were to write something inspired by American McGee’s Alice, Mad Hatter would break into the Reader’s home just to tell them everything they got wrong with it. He is completely devoted to the original Alice in Wonderland story so even though it’s not based on that he still has gripes about it and will make them very known. At the very least he would compromise and tolerate the story better if the Reader changed Alice’s hair to the original’s look. But he would totally want the Reader to write another Alice in Wonderland story based on the original and he will give all his thoughts and ideas for, whether the Reader is willing to hear him out or not.

Also:

Horror!Author!Reader, on the phone: Hey, Batman? Um, yeah I kinda have a problem. The Mad Hatter’s in my house again and he won’t stop talking about his Alice in Wonderland horror fanfiction ideas. Would you please come get hi-Wait a minute. Something’s happening….

*camera pans over as Joker, Scarecrow, Harley, Poison Ivy, Deathstroke, Killer Croc, Talia, and Two Face all busting in with a variety of weapons*

Horror!Author!Reader, still on the phone: You still there, Batman? Yeah, I’m going to need you even more now. It looks like some of the other inmates have broken out of Arkham again and are here to kick Hatter’s ass…or worse.

Yandere Joker, getting ready to fuck Hatter’s shit up: It was just a one time story, Hatter~ First you weasel your way into our book club and now you’re trying to pathetically worm your way into making a series out of it, taking up all of Y/n’s time and attention for your Alice in Wonderland obsession?? Not on our watch, Hattsy!~

#anxious answers #yandere joker #yandere scarecrow #yandere jonathan crane #yandere mad hatter #yandere dc #yandere dc villains #yandere dc villains concept #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

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loversj0y · 9 months

Note

For your 200 follower event you should do Invisible String with Wil! Maybe inspired by him being on tour, and once you guys connect, you realize all the similarities/close calls you’ve had to each other?

invisible string

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tws: bars/references to drinking

notes: this might be tphe longest one bc it felt wrong making it Not long, i guess so i hope you enjoy :3

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @melunnek

You hated heartbreak and the way it seemed to accompany you like an old friend. Several bad breakups led to the collective feeling of needing to leave, wanting to run, so you did. It wasn’t hard to find a university you could study abroad in and accommodations, especially with the proficiency in your courses meaning a scholarship wasn’t hard to find. Choosing a place to go was the hardest part; you knew you wanted to go to the UK, but you didn’t know where. Thankfully, there was a pretty simple solution: throwing a dart at a map. Leading you here: Brighton. The taxi drove you to your new apartment, and there was a rock song playing you’d wished to have gotten the name of before you got dropped off.

After a week of unpacking and settling in, you’d gotten notably bored. So you decided to look for a place to go, or something to do, and you stumbled across a pretty small club that seemed quite nice. You walked in, and at first it reminded you of the dive bars back in America, but a bit nicer. You went up to the bar and ordered quickly, trying to speak a bit quieter given the glaringly obvious American accent. It wasn’t enough to entirely hide it, though. Once you got your drink, a blond boy who’d been next to you at the bar spoke up, loudly.

“Are you American?”

You looked at him and nodded. He seemed a bit younger, but given that he was in here meant he was probably at least 18. “Yeah, I just moved here.”

He perked up, grinning, “Follow me!” He didn’t give you much a choice before grabbing your arm and dragging you over to his friends, “My name’s Tommy, by the way! My brother Wilbur loves America, so he’ll be excited to meet you, c’mon!”

You chuckled, allowing yourself to be dragged over by him. He brought you to a group of five people, two of whom were incredibly tall. All five of them were giving an incredulous look at Tommy, making you laugh a bit.

“Wilbur!” Tommy basically yelled as he pulled you over, “I found an American!”

You fought the urge to hide your face in your hands, instead taking a sip of your drink.

One of the taller guys, who you presumed was Wilbur, sputtered at Tommy, “Tommy! You can’t just drag someone over because they’re American, for fucks sake.”

“Yes, but you love America and you needed some cheering up, so ta-da!”

Wilbur just facepalmed, sighing and looking over at you now. He was an attractive guy, light brown curls and a tall frame, plus a good fashion sense if the Doc Martins were anything to go off of. “I am so sorry he abducted you. He is a child with no sense of manners.”

You chuckled softly, especially as Tommy gasped dramatically in response. “It’s alright,” you smiled softly, “Beats the alternative of sitting alone at the bar for an hour, so.” You shrugged.

Wilbur gave you a bit of a thoughtful look, but before he could speak up, the girl next to Tommy spoke.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, even if he literally just dragged you over. I’m Molly, Tommy’s girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled softly, before Tommy took charge once more.

“Yes, right! Introductions! I’m Tommy, obviously the coolest one here, Molly is my wonderful and only wife, Jack over there is an dick, don’t be friends with him, but that’s his girlfriend Ellie, she’s too cool for him. You spoke to Wilbur, my lame brother, already, and the only one taller than him is the very gorgeous Ranboo,” he explained.

Not a single person looked pleased with his explanation, but they also didn’t exactly look surprised by him.

“Right, well, nice to meet you guys. I’m Y/N.”

“So, you’re actually from America? Are you visiting?” Jack asked, a kind smile on his face.

“Yeah, uh, I just moved here actually. I just needed a change of pace, I guess, so I actually transferred to the university out here.”

He nodded, and you could feel the entire group’s eyes on you for a moment. It was a bit unsettling, but that was more just the nerves.

“Cool, fellow American,” the tallest one, Ranboo, spoke up. You looked up at him (he was really tall), and you smiled.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one out here. How’d you end up out here?”

“Uh… work, actually. It’s kind of a long story, but I had to move out here for my work stuff, so I did.” He shifted his eyes a bit as he spoke, and you just nodded, assuming he didn’t want to be pressed on the matter.

“Wilbur,” Tommy spoke, “tell them some cool America facts.”

“Tommy, they very likely know them better than me given that they actually lived there.” Wilbur chuckled softly.

I smiled softly at Wilbur, “I’d still like to hear them. Maybe I can tell you if you’re mistaken about any of them.”

He looked over and gave you a grin, and the conversations paired off. You and Wilbur discussed America and where you lived, and the fact that Americans need to stop building parking lots, which you agreed with.

After nearly an hour and a half, he disengaged, turning to Tommy, “I have to head out now, Toms. I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah?”

Tommy nodded, then gave Wilbur a bit of an evil grin, turning to you, “Did Wilbur tell you he’s a big musician? He’s got to leave early because he’s got a gig tomorrow and has to do boring musician things.”

“Really?” You grinned softly, “That’s really fucking cool.”

“Yeah, well, Wilbur’s lame, but his band is cool. You should come to the gig!” Tommy exclaimed, and Wilbur’s cheeks dusted red, eyes widening at Tommy.

“I’d love to, but, only if it’s okay with you, I guess,” You looked up at Wilbur, raising your eyebrows.

He nodded a bit stiffly, “yeah, no, that’d be great. The more the merrier. I’ll see you both tomorrow then.” He waved, heading off quite quickly after.

“Is… he going to be mad at you for inviting me?” You chuckled, looking over at Tommy.

“Eh, he will be at first. I’ll probably wake up to an upset text, but it’s just because he gets nervous playing in front of people he wants to impress. Once he does fine after, he’ll text me all ‘Oh, Tommy, you’re so smart and right, thank you for inviting them since I was too much of a pussyhole to ask myself,’” he mocked Wilbur’s voice, and you laughed a bit. You blushed slightly at the implication that Wilbur wanted to impress you.

After a bit longer, the group dispersed, and you headed home. You actually ended up living pretty close to Tommy, who was about two blocks down from you. As you headed inside to your apartment, you smiled and got excited at the idea of going to the gig tomorrow and seeing Wilbur again. You fell asleep excited and wondering what type of music you’d hear from him and pleased with the people you’d happened to find.

You managed to get to the gig without too much trouble the next day, and you were shocked by the sheer amount of people waiting outside. Tommy had texted you about going to a back entrance, which thankfully wasn’t too hard to find. He was waiting by the door to help you in as well, and you felt immediately starstruck.

The place was pretty big, and Wilbur was already standing in the centre of the stage, practicing something on his guitar. The lights were hitting him perfectly, and he looked like an angel. You struggled to look away, until Tommy came up and basically draped himself against you.

“Stop simpin’ after Wilbur, c’monnnn, we’re heading backstage. He needs his little ‘rockstar-practice time’ or whatever.”

You flushed, turning away from Wilbur, “I’m not simping, I’m just in awe. This is really cool.”

“Yeah, yeah, well,” he walked further backstage with you following him, “you should’ve seen how long it took him to get used to it. Whole band did a bunch of fake shows to get used to performing.”

“Really? That’s smart, actually.”

Tommy just shrugged, taking you to room backstage where there was a much larger group of people than the night before. You recognized Molly and Jack, but the other three were complete strangers.

“Oh, Y/N, you came!” Molly grinned, waving. You waved back at her, nodding a bit.

“These lot are more of the band. They are much cooler than Wilbur, you’ll find. That’s Ash, Leandra, and Mark.”

You waved, saying a quick hello, before allowing yourself to become an observer of the conversation.

The show started not too long after, with you, Jack, Molly, and Tommy watching from the side stage. You quickly discovered that the band, Lovejoy, was incredibly popular, and their music was fantastic. And Wilbur.

Wilbur was something else on stage. He was fully in his element, lights covering him in halo glows. His voice was melodic, and it made you want to melt. From the side stage, you could see how he leaned against the mic, the passion in his voice, and the intensity he matched in each song. It was about halfway through the show though, that you felt you blood run cold.

The song you’d heard in the cab when you moved in. It was their song. And if that wasn’t just the biggest coincidence slapping you in the face than god knows what was. You didn’t know what to make of it, other than feeling incredibly overwhelmed by fate and the new friends you’d made.

By the end of the show, you felt strange. You felt incredibly uncertain about your place in the world most days, but for some reason, as you watched Wilbur approach you and the group, you felt like there was no where else you belonged.

“Hey,” he walked over with a grin, “You came! What did you think?”

He looked almost nervous as he asked, sweat still dripping from his forehead as you chuckled, “It was amazing! I actually recognized one as well!”

A startled look crossed his face for a moment, “You did? Which one?”

“The, ah, I didn’t catch the name of it originally, but I want to say it’s Call Me What You Like if the setlists are correct. It was playing in my cab when I was dropped off in Brighton.”

He grinned, “Really? It was on the radio?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I thought it was fantastic, but I didn’t have time to catch the name. At least now I don’t have to worry about forgetting it.”

“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t let you,” he gave you a grin that shined brighter than any light on that stage, and you felt butterflies flood your stomach as you considered that maybe it was fate that brought you here.

Sometimes you didn’t consider the ways that time worked. In the span of one year, so much more had changed than you’d ever even considered. You moved to a new country, started a new school, made new friends. You cut your hair, changed your wardrobe, got a better music taste. You became much more social, started dating Wilbur, learned to feel more confident in yourself.

The relationship probably was the most shocking of anything to happen. But it happened quickly, and it felt so right and so easy, as if your previous heartbreaks never occurred. You still had problems, mind you, however, there was something within you telling you it was fate constantly.

You thought about fate a lot when you thought about your relationship. The random effect of the universe tended to have a weird way of making you think about stuff like that. The statistical chances of choosing to move to Brighton by throwing a dart at a map, of hearing Wilbur’s song play in your cab. Then there were the numerous things you’d learned over time, small coincidences that pointed to a string of fate tying you together. Of the color of his first album being the color of your first prom dress. Of the time he visited America and ended up staying twenty minutes from where you lived. Of your first boyfriend sharing Wilbur’s middle name. Of all these tiny clues of parallel moments within your lives that you could only see now in retrospect.

The biggest thing within this string was the connection you felt to him that first night. It felt like that little string pulled you straight into that bar. When all of a sudden, all the stress and feelings you’d had about heartbreak and needing to run felt soothed, all past mistakes feeling fuzzy in comparison to something that was so right.

“Darling,” Wilbur chuckled softly, “What are you thinking so hard about?” He smiled, walking over to where you were already laying down, ready for bed.

“Do you ever think about fate?” You asked as he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Not often, I guess. Why?”

“I just think about us, and I just feel like there’s been a string connecting us, tying us together, and we just couldn’t see it.”

He smiled softly, slowly getting into bed next to you, “You think?”

“I don’t know for certain. But I know that there’s way too many coincidences to be normal. And that in one year, just by moving here… I don’t know it feels like I wasn’t living before being here, and even more now that I’m with you. I actually feel in charge of my life. Like time just changed everything for the better, and I have to at least believe that maybe it’s because fate brought us here.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him, “Yeah. I’ve never quite thought about it like that. I like that idea though. I mean, the chances of us actually meeting were so slim. As much as I don’t love the concept of fate, I’ll love fate for this. Because if fate is what brought me to you, then I owe it so much.”

You smiled lovingly at him, leaning forward to kiss him gently, “I owe it so much too. That- that little thread of gold tying us together.”

He held you a bit tighter, turning off the lamp next to him, “You think it’d be gold?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He chuckled, “Why is that?”

“Because it’s your last name. And the leaves were gold when I moved here in the fall. What about you?”

“Hm,” he hummed, “Gold could be fitting. But I think it’d be some sort of blue or purple, like the sunset we watched on our first proper date.”

“That’d be nice,” you smiled softly, “I’m just glad it was there, if it is real.”

“Me too, love,” he whispered, before pulling you into a slow and gentle kiss.

#mar's 200 follower event #mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur #wilbur soot fluff #mcyt fanfiction

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

Text

criminal.

you met a woman from a penpal website and began to form a relationship with her, until you suddenly got comfortable with her and began to share fantasies that she had also dreamt of.

pairings | prisoner!dark!natasha x fem!reader

warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI! online talking, prisoner!natasha, dirty talking (online), rough sex on the couch, strap-on (used), pet names, dark!natasha, and daddy kink.

word count | 3.5k

notes | this was anon requested and i hope this satisfies you, nonnon! i’m so sorry if it’s too late :( i am doing my best to get all of your requests. enjoy though!

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When I heard of this website called Pen Pal from my friends, I was sketched up. I wasn’t the type of person who would message someone from the internet–let alone a stranger who could break into your house if they had your address. You can’t trust the internet these days. The only reason why I know this website is because of the lack of relationships that I have never gone through in my life. Although I did have a few crushes, they liked me back, but eventually, it turned into nothing like a cloud of dust. Did I want to be in a relationship? Sure, sometimes.

Okay maybe.

Anyway, I was scanning through the website and saw some of the inmates who seemed desperate as I was. These people, specifically women, wouldn’t pass my age. That didn’t matter though, I’d still like anyone even though they weren’t my age. No one caught my interest, especially with their boring information about themselves. Looking for a babe, I want someone who could send me nudes, if you got tits then ur good. This is the information that I don’t need, they are too forward. If you want to speak eloquently about railing someone, you might as well do it in the second stage of dating.

Until I see a profile that did catch my interest. Natasha Romanoff, 36 years old. “I like making new friends.”

She’s a real eye-catcher.

And, she’s not your typical American, she looked too European to be American. Perhaps she was Russian and possibly was born from there, unless I may have assumed it in a wrong way. I decided to click on her profile and gave her a small greeting message.

Me: hey! :D

I didn’t wait much for her reply since I had Calculus homework that I had to do, so I grabbed my pencil and went back to studying. It was almost midnight when she replied, and I was tireless when I received her message.

NatsRomanoff: Hey there :) what suddenly brings you here?

What suddenly brings you here, I thought as I read that message. I could say: nothing much, I just want to say you’re really pretty or I want you to lick my neck with your devilish tongue so that I could be compelled to you. Although the second option was too forward, too soon. I decided to type something else.

Me: my friends told me about this website, idk why. i think it’s because they think i’m pretty lonely, plus it’s also fun. as they said.

NatsRomanoff: Hahaha, that seems cute. I hope the people here doesn’t scare you off unless you’re only talking to one person.

Me: i only plan to talk to one person and hopefully that’s you

NatsRomanoff: You must be adorable, what’s your name?

Should I give her a piece of information about myself? Would it be risky enough to say my name and let her rattle all over me? Or would I not let her in and continue on with my basic life? Yes, basic. My life in the outside world isn’t as fun as it seems. I go to school, learn a few things, have my piano lessons, and come back home with a gaunt look on my face that wasn’t too inviting. Go on, tell her! My head won’t stop telling me to do so, my fingers are on the keyboard as I try to think of any other names that I would use.

Me: Y/N. you?

NatsRomanoff: Pretty name :) Natasha, even though you can see that in my bio.

Me: sorry. i was trying to be formal lol

NatsRomanoff: What’s your sexuality? I don’t want to assume that you’re a girl or a boy, or neither.

Me: i’m a girl!

NatsRomanoff: Cute :) so can I call you a pretty girl then?

I try my hardest not to form a smile or a significant sparkling feeling inside of me as I know that I could fall for someone on the internet in less than a month. But heck, I blushed hard.

Me: yes, why not haha

NatsRomanoff: :)) how old are you, pretty girl?

Me: I’m nineteen, almost twenty in two months!

NatsRomanoff: That’s cute, really adorable I’m gonna be honest. You don’t mind talking to someone older, yeah?

I put my laptop away for a short minute and thought long and hard about our age difference. We were seventeen years apart, she’s almost two decades older than me and I have this sort of romanticization of being with older people. They bring so much comfort to you that you ought to believe that they will always protect you and be more mature than you are, so that’s probably the reason why I love being in that type of situation in the first place. Though, I could never be in one. My parents would kill me.

But they aren’t here, so…

Me: not at all. :)

NatsRomanoff: I’d ask if you could send me a photo of you, but you can’t do that here.

Me: Well, when do you get out of prison?

NatsRomanoff: Two years, pretty girl. Why? Care to visit a poor old woman like me? :)

Me: aren’t we friends?

NatsRomanoff: Of course, we are. I’d like to see you someday, hoping you wouldn’t run off.

Me: why would you say that? lol

NatsRomanoff: Aren’t you scared that I’m some old woman who is a prisoner? You don’t know my crimes.

Me: do you want to tell them to me?

NatsRomanoff: I’d keep it a secret for now :) but, I’d like to see you someday. Anyway, I have to go. Can I talk to you again tomorrow? Pretty girl? :(

The real deal question was: why wasn’t I scared? Why was I willing enough to give myself to a prisoner? I wouldn’t know what she has done, I wouldn’t know anything about her. But she seemed so kind enough that she doesn’t give me the peevish and creepy vibes that I’d always feel when it comes to other people–especially her age. I bit my inner cheek and thought about what to type with her calling me a pretty girl. Referring to me as one even though I hardly believe in such a name like that.

Me: of course, tasha! goodnight :)

NatsRomanoff: Goodnight, pretty girl.

—

The next few days went pretty smoothly and ambling. It felt like I was in this word heaven as I called it whenever I would be talking to Natasha. Perhaps paradise would be a fitting term for our messages. My friends knew about Natasha, they even told me to flirt a little. But I gave them a hint that I wasn’t ready for anything like that, knowing what they were trying to tell me. Natasha knew a few facts about me that I told her a few days ago. And she gave me small pieces of information about her too, which made me admire her more. Before she got arrested, she was working at a bar and would spend her quality time at the library, telling me that she had a spot that is now taken by everyone else. I told her that I also like reading and that’s how we mostly connect; we send each other book recommendations. Apparently, she likes The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, she said the book reminded me of her–even though that was a little confusing on why. I told her about the book called The Price of Salt because of my age difference with Natasha. She said she had read that one, and we both laughed about it.

NatsRomanoff: You seem like such a smart girl for your age :) What school are you going to?

I read her message, again and again, thinking if I should tell her what school I’m attending. My friends told me not to give any information that would lead to my address, but it’s Natasha, right? She wouldn’t hurt me, even though I’d only known her for five days. Plus, she constantly reminds me that I don’t have to say anything that would offend me.

Me: columbia University, i have a scholarship. :)

NatsRomanoff: You must be academically inclined then :) Love smart girls like you.

Me: lol what does that mean?

NatsRomanoff: I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say.

No, I don’t know what she’s trying to imply–does that make me feel stupid?

Me: anyway, i have to do some reading before i go to bed :(

NatsRomanoff: Aw, come on :( I want to talk to you some more, stay here baby.

I almost threw my laptop in the air as I read that word. Baby, I thought with a whimsical smile on my face. She’s getting into me. I imagine her being in my bed right at this moment, her hand on my knee as she tells me so many stories about herself before her life in prison. Touch me, Natasha. Put your hand on my core, massage it and tell me how much I can be yours. Whisper into my ear and tell me that I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, that you have to eat. That lewd thought quickly went away when I received another message from her.

NatsRomanoff: Can I call you baby?

Me: of course, you can.

NatsRomanoff: Good. I love us being friends, I haven’t talked to anyone like this in such a long time. I understand if you’re tired, I’ll message you soon. Goodnight, baby girl :)

—

Days have turned into weeks, weeks have turned into months, and I’ve caught myself falling in love with Natasha Romanoff, not knowing her criminal record or her basic life. Just a small fact about herself that she rarely tells me since she stated that she’s more interested in my life than hers. I didn’t mind, it’s not like I could ask her again, but it did get me wondering why on earth she wasn’t telling me in the first place?

I was lying down on my couch with a book sprawled all over my face, just like how I’d be in bed whenever I think about Natasha. We’ve said some dirty text to each other, but not in a way that we tell our fantasies to one another. I like to imagine a lot, it’s like I make them into my own little world and I drag her through it–let her know what I like and don’t like. I’ve never told anyone about my fantasy, nor hers. I guess we were practically the same people.

NatsRomanoff: I have something to tell you, but promise you won’t freak out.

Why would I freak out? Is she going to say something intense that would scare me off? There’s nothing that could scare me off when it’s only from her, or maybe that’s how submissive and giving I am.

Me: shoot.

NatsRomanoff: I have this fantasy of breaking into your house and watching you sleep. If not asleep, then you’d be standing there with a frightened look on your face. I would touch you without your consent and quiet you down since you’re a bad kitty. Is it okay if I say I want to touch you without your permission? How about if I slip my fingers inside of you without your permission? Would you still allow me? Just tell me to back off, I obviously won’t do anything if you say no. Think of it as a kink.

I felt myself beginning to get wet as I read through the whole message from her. She makes my body tremble with the need for her touch, how much I crave for her fingers or her tongue to lather up all over my skin. My face began to heat up like a kettle, my toes were curling against the sheets, and my hands were sweating as well as my forehead. I wanted what she wanted, I fantasized about it long before she did. Unless she has done it first, I wouldn’t really care. The fact that we share the same thought probably meant how much we are connected. I typed fast and sent it, moaning quietly with the raging thought of her breaking into my house with a threatening look on her face.

Me: that’s really hot, tash…

NatsRomanoff: Do you want that to happen, little girl?

Call me that again, call me your little girl, Natasha. I promise that I can be good to you, I’ll suck your thumb for you and kiss your neck, I’ll let you open me up and take me until I’m bursting into tears, you only know how to make my world shatter. You know.

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: Call me Daddy, baby.

Me: Daddy.

NatsRomanoff: You love Daddy?

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: I have a strap-on in my cell, did you know that? Before you, I’d fuck girls with it. And now whenever I see that toy, I just want to use it on you so badly. I bet your pussy is tight, are you a virgin?

To her disappointment, I wasn’t. I’ve had sex with a girl twice, but it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be. Losing your virginity should be special, and it wasn’t. As much as I want to say it felt nice, it’s not as good as I thought it would be. Or maybe, I was expecting an older person willing to take me instead. Could that be Natasha when she comes out in two years? I can’t wait any longer, I could feel my legs opening up for her.

Me: i’ve had sex before :( is that okay with you?

NatsRomanoff: That’s okay baby. I’m a little disappointed that you’ve had sex, but it’s alright. Promise me no one else will touch your pussy except me. Promise me.

Me: i promise.

NatsRomanoff: I love you, little girl. Can’t wait to see you.

That was her final message before she went offline, and it made my eyes quirk in confusion. Can’t wait to see you. Was there a possible chance that she escaped from prison and broke into my home, fulfilling our fantasies of one another? Couldn’t be true, she wouldn’t do such a thing.

I decided to close my laptop and turned off my lamp, my body shifting against the mattress while I had my legs pressed hard against each other–shamefully trying to get some friction that would make me think of her lewdly once more as my nipples started to perk with the chill thought.

—

I tried texting Natasha over and over again for a whole week, but she never responded. It took me time to realize that maybe she has met someone else who was willing to give themselves to her, to be much more open when it comes to sex. Was it because I was not a virgin? Did she shame me for that? Or maybe, just maybe, she has escaped prison and is finding my location?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. She wouldn’t know my location, but I’ve given her a hint now since I went to Columbia University. It’s not that I was frightened, maybe a little, but it was because I don’t know anything much about her that she’s capable enough to hurt me.

I tried surpassing the thought and went back home soundly with my keys jangling on my bag, it was attached to the metal zipper. Except that, the door was unlocked, which gave me a thought of someone breaking in. Could it be Natasha? Was she fulfilling the fantasies that we’ve created together? I shook my head and walked to the apartment–getting a different feeling from the atmosphere. Everything seemed normal, perhaps I might’ve forgotten to lock my home. I dropped my schoolbag on the ground and removed my jacket, the hair on my skin getting sensitive because of the cold mystic air from the outside of my window. I turned around and almost stumbled on the couch when suddenly I saw a figure who was standing in front of me, I didn’t know who it was.

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, stepping away from the redhead woman–who’s honestly very daunting–as I tried to find a piece of glass or any object that would be my self-defense. Instead, she gives me an evil smirk and wraps her free arm around my neck, pulling me close to her until I realize who this person was.

This was, in fact, Natasha Romanoff. She has escaped prison.

I didn’t even give her my address.

“Shh,” she coos over and over again, cupping my face tightly. I do admit I was trying to free myself from her, but she was so strong. “You’re so beautiful in real life, and so tiny. C’mere, don’t be scared. It’s me, Natasha, why are you trying to fret me?”

“L-Let me go!” I said, kicking off my feet.

“Shh, stop baby stop…”

“No!” I screamed kicking my feet again, my hands trying to push her chest. But God forbid, she was undeniably strong. Her arms were wrapped around my torso like it was a life sentence, I kept screaming until I felt her hand smack against my left cheek–making me whimper aloud.

“If you scream again,” she breathes heavily and nips on my earlobe so that I could feel her warm breath–my core is beginning to pool with wetness. “I will cut your tongue out. You better stay fucking quiet.”

She never let go of my body and instead, kissed me hard on the lips. It felt consensual since I let her do it, and I almost melted from the kiss that I wasn’t expecting from her. Her mouth felt warm and cooled my lips, and I realized how we were both famished for our lips to touch. I never thought about it happening this way, though it felt romantic and incredibly arousing as she kisses my lips hard and passionate. I was desperate for her not to pull away, but she did with a pant.

“Gonna fulfill that fantasy we both wanted,” she whispers with a low grunt, pushing me to the couch while unbuckling her belt. “I have my fat cock with me, and I know how much you’re going to like it. So better yet open your legs and show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

I did not waste time removing my pants and snapping my legs together as the air hit my wet cunt. She sees the action and furrows her eyebrows, her hands in between my knees as she pushes them away, departing if you have a deeper term. Her eyes were so dark that you couldn’t see much green in them and her mouth was foaming when my bare cunt was shown, my clit beating hard.

“Gonna give yourself to me, m’kay? Gonna fucking ruin this hole until you’re mine. In fact, I’ll have to hurt you if you disobey me. Might as well break your legs so that you could never run off from me, understood?”

“But–”

A sharp slap made contact with my inner thigh as I gasped out in pain, mostly pleasure. She watches my lips being bitten by me and almost wanted her dildo pressed against my mouth, slithering herself in until she fucks my mouth as if it was the gaping hole of my vagina. I was ready–so ready–to submit myself to her, to make her smack me until I bled. I wanted her to do everything she wanted, let alone if she had to take me in the ass. I stare at her and notice how hungry she was for my pussy, please just fuck me.

She pulls down her pants and I see a dark purple dildo that looked insanely big for my preferred size. I looked at her with horror but she was smiling down at me, meaningless to say I have no way out. She brings the tip to my entrance and thrusts inside of me with one go, my mouth screaming in pain and pleasure. In an instant, my hand was around her neck and I felt her mouth kissing mine again–though this one was a sloppier one.

“Fuck,” she murmurs more to herself, enjoying the sight of her cock fully inside of my cunt. “Look at you, taking a prisoner’s dick. Ya like that, don’t you baby? Want me to fuck you on this couch?”

I nodded.

She snaps her hips into me, making the couch squeak with how forceful it was. I was moaning with each thrust, my chest burning up at how fast the pace was going–I couldn’t take it, she was so big. Yet, I didn’t care. I wanted her to do this to me, I wanted her to take me until I’ve become such a slut for her that everyone would know who I belonged to. She buries her face into the crook of my neck as I hear her let out a whiny moan.

“Oh, baby! Mmph, you fucking feel so good…” she pushes my hair away from my face to take a better look at me, and she chuckles. Fucking chuckles. “You are a slut, aren’t you? Tell me you’re my whore baby, come on–tell Daddy.”

“I-I’m–” my breath hitches as I felt my breasts bouncing up and down with the speed of her shallow thrusts. I’ve grown wetter than I imagined. “I’m your whore, Daddy…”

“Daddy is crazy ‘bout you,” she sniffs into my neck heavily that I practically heard it. “Gonna make this pussy mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

this was insanely hot for me i’m sorry

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #dark natasha #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff fic #prisoner!natasha #a's oneshots!

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apuckishwit · 1 year

Note

“I appreciate the effort but this is all wrong.” For whoever you choose

(also I know I send a request in last time so feel free to ignore this if you have too many💜)

Bruh, I don't even KNOW where this came from. But I like it. Little bit of Steddie, but this mostly ended up being a Steve and Eleven bonding ficlet. Also, word could got away from me, sorry!

“I appreciate the effort, but this is all wrong,” Eddie sighs, flopping onto the couch beside Steve and making a gesture that seems to encompass Steve’s entire body.

Steve hides a tired smile behind his drink—some unholy cocktail Hopper’s friend Bauman cooked up that seems to be mostly straight vodka. “What do you mean?”

“This! You! We just beat Vecna, man! Won the day, saved the world! And you’re sitting here in a dark corner, brooding over your drink.” Eddie leans close, his expression shifting to something dramatic and serious. “A strange-looking, weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall,” he intones.

Ah. Steve remembers this one.

“I am not strange-looking,” he says, and then tips his cup towards Dustin, who is dramatically recounting some part of the fight to Lucas and a bored-looking Erica, as though they were not right there with him. “I am, however, listening intently to the hobbit talk.”

Eddie reels back, a shocked, delighted smile lighting his face. “Stevie! Stevie! Did you, Steven Timothy Harrington the third, king of Hawkins High, dreamiest of the all-American dreamboats…just quote Lord of the Rings at me?” Eddie’s got a bruise on his temple, blood and dirt crusted in the creases of his skin because he hasn’t had a proper shower yet. Steve wants to kiss him, wants to bury his hands in the wild mass of Eddie’s curls, wants to curl into the warmth of his body and never leave.

“My middle name’s not Timothy you weirdo, and I’m not even a junior, let alone a third.” He dares a nudge of his knee into Eddie’s and leaves it there, their legs touching from knee to mid-thigh. He watches dark eyes dart down to where their bodies are touching and holds his breath, only letting it out when Eddie lets his weight shift a little closer so that their shoulders are brushing as well.

Not the closest they’ve ever been on this night, at this party—and it is a party this time, a celebration, he loves it when they are celebrating and not clinging to each other in broken, sobbing huddles, too many empty spaces in between their reaching arms—but close. Close enough that he can feel the other man’s heat through the layers of their clothes, feel the solid weight of him. Eddie is hardly ever a casualty anymore, but nothing is foolproof and he never takes Eddie’s presence at his side when they get here for granted.

He lets himself sink against the couch in his living room, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Eddie’s eyes will follow the motion, he knows, those quick, clever eyes flicking over the line of his throat before landing on his lips and darting away again. There’s something between them, now. Something curious and fragile, but crackling with electricity. Heat. Possibility. He wonders, when he’s feeling particularly self-destructive, how far they could run with that possibility, if they ever get the chance. He’s kissed Eddie. More times than he can count anymore. Hell, he’s slept with him—quick and desperate fucks in hidden corners, longer, slower explorations when they manage to buy more time than usual. He knows Eddie’s body in a way that should feel wrong, he thinks, because Eddie never, ever remembers.

Steve’s past pretending he’s not desperately, stupidly in love with him.

His chest aches at the thought—pain that has become so familiar he barely notices it anymore. He opens his eyes, the ache turning a little sweeter when he catches Eddie’s gaze darting away from his lips and looks out over the people crowded into his house, helping themselves to his food, his alcohol, his bathrooms and blankets and guestrooms. Everything. They’re welcome to everything, he’d give everything in this cold, cold house if they could just stay here. Now. In this moment.

They’ve all made it through this time. All of them. Max is slumped tiredly against Lucas’s side with nothing worse than a broken arm. Robin is curled up on the loveseat just across the room, fast asleep, but not pale and limp and dead. Dustin’s excited voice carries above every other conversation and Steve could listen to it forever because now he knows what it sounds like when it trails off into a wet, gurgling rattle. They’re all winding down, eyelids drooping, shoulders slumping. Nancy and Jonathan have already wandered off to the guestroom he pointed them to, Hopper and Joyce having long ago vanished into his parents’ room. The kids are gathering blankets and pillows to just create a giant nest right here on the living room floor and Steve is debating whether he wants to carry Robin up to his room or take the risk that sometimes pays off and invite Eddie to follow him to bed when he catches Eleven’s eyes across the room.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get some air,” he says, reaching down to grip Eddie’s knee. Wants it to be his hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie just nods tiredly, his eyes kind of glazing over with exhaustion despite his earlier brightness. Steve stands and stretches, slipping from the room while the boys are arguing over the truly hideous (but very warm and fluffy) knitted blanket his great-grandmother made right before she died and that his mother refuses to get rid of, even though she won’t allow it to sit out anywhere it can be seen. He steps out onto the back deck, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to the edge of the empty pool. He’s never gotten around to covering it, but he never keeps it filled when he has the choice in the matter.

He is unsurprised when he hears the door slide open behind him a few moments later. Tilts his head up to stare at the brightly gleaming moon and just lifts one arm in invitation. El burrows into his side seconds later, her thin arms winding tight around his waist as she presses her face into his chest. He doesn’t speak, holding her tightly as she just breathes. She never cries, but somehow the deep, shuddering breaths are worse.

“I’m still good to go again,” he whispers, when the shuddering breaths quiet, and he can no longer feel her shoulders trembling. He ruffles a hand through her short, bristly hair, his heart hurting at the feel of it, the way it always does. El loves her long hair. Loves what having it long represents to her. He hates to see her lose that so often.

She nods against his chest, but makes no move to let go. He bites his lip, resting his chin on top of her head. “We’re getting closer. You felt it this time, right? He almost…he almost let go of Will.”

“He did,” Eleven agrees, her voice no louder than Steve’s had been. “Almost.”

Eddie is wrong, is the thing. They haven’t beaten Vecna. Not for real. Not for good. The Upside Down isn’t gone.

It’s not over.

As a matter of fact, in just a few short hours it’s all going to start over again. All the way over again.

Steve is going to go to sleep tonight, eventually. Maybe curled around Robin, clutching his best friend’s hand and counting her breaths as he struggles to calm his own. Maybe tangled with Eddie, sweaty and sated and biting his lips bloody against all the things he wants to say, all the things he’s discovered and realized and come to know for truth as he’s come to this point over and over and over. Maybe this will be one of the times he and Eleven won’t be able to bear to go back in to the people they love knowing their happiness and relief is about to be ripped away all over again, one of the times they’ll sit and talk and try to keep each other awake for another hour, another minute, another second. It won’t matter.

When he wakes up again, it’ll be 1983. Eleven will be waiting for him in their prearranged meeting spot so he can bring her food and some warmer clothes before she leaves to find Mike and the others, so small and young again, with eyes that grow more and more haunted each time he looks into them. Will Byers will be missing. Max will be somewhere in California. Eddie will hate him, if he thinks of him at all. His kids won’t know him.

And he will be standing right back at the beginning of a path he would sell his fucking soul not to have to walk again.

And again.

He’s lost count of how many times they’ve done this. Lost count of how many times they’ve lived through this hell, lost count of how fucking old they are at this point. Does a year really count against your age if it’s erased over and over again? He tries not to think about it too hard. It might drive him crazy.

Maybe it already has.

They can’t change anything, they’ve discovered through more trial and error than he cares to try and recall. Nothing more than tiny differentiations. He can’t just cancel that goddamn party and save Barb. They can’t open another gate and bring Will home themselves. They can’t bring the lab down before Nancy and Jonathan get to it. Can’t warn Hopper about the tunnels and the mayor and the fucking Russians. Can’t tell Joyce how to break the Mind Flayer’s hold over her son. Can’t stop Hargrove from becoming a puppet, can’t save his life and at least spare Max that complicated, complicated pain. Can’t avoid the Russians. Can’t keep Hopper from being kidnapped. Can’t save Chrissy Cunningham. Can’t stop Eddie from becoming involved.

Can’t, can’t, can’t.

Things…wobble…when they try. Eleven feels it more than him, understands it better than him, but when they try to change things, it felt like the time he and Tommy decided to go ice skating on the pond near Tommy’s grandpa’s house too early in the season. He’d gotten out onto the ice first, had skated away from the edge as fast as he could, but as he got further out he could feel the ice change under his skates. Had felt it grow thinner. Weaker. Start to splinter under the blades. He’s lucky he’d still been small at that point—thin and bony and small. If it had been Tommy who raced out first, he probably would have fallen through. But that’s how it feels to him—like something is weakening and thinning and breaking around him and it would be a very bad thing if it broke all the way.

Things aren’t completely the same, of course. They’ve learned to skirt that breaking, thinning, weakening—but the little bits of pain they’ve been able to spare their friends and family are tiny. Crumbs. Nothing in the face of all the things they have to let happen.

The things they have to let happen over and over and over…because they know how to close the Upside Down, now. They know what they have to do to make sure it can never hurt anyone ever again. They know what they have to do to free the people they’ve come to love like family.

They know the price they have to pay. And they know they will never, ever take that step.

It has to be purged, is the thing. Every scrap, every bit, every awful, disgusting spore has to be cleaned from their world before the opening can be closed permanently. Every bit of it.

Even the bits that have infected people they love. The bits that have infected them.

It all has to be in the Upside Down when the gate is closed for the last time. If they can’t find a way to sever the connections between them and Vecna, Will and Max have to be left behind in the Upside Down when the gate is closed for the last time.

He and El are both in agreement. That isn’t a price they’re willing to pay, unless the only other choice is to let Vecna completely loose to rampage across the world. In his heart of hearts, Steve isn’t so sure they’d even be willing to pay the price then.

Will is El’s brother in every way that matters. They might as well be twins. And Max…

Well.

Neither of them are willing to live in a world without Max Mayfield in it.

Steve doesn’t know why he and Eleven remember all the times they have come to this point before, but Will and Max don’t. He has his suspicions. Theories that he has had ample time to turn over in his mind…and he knows he’s not the smartest person in their group, but even he can solve a puzzle if you give him enough time. He thinks it has something to do with how their connections to the Upside Down formed vs. how Will’s and Max’s were forced. El didn’t mean to, didn’t know what she was doing…but she was the one who ripped into the Upside Down in the first place, kicked up the hivemind like a hornet’s nest. And he…

He thinks of the thick, rotten-tasting fluid that fills his mouth every time he bites that fucking bat to get it to let go of him. The way it always slides down his throat before he can spit it all out. He’d forced his way into a connection too, hadn’t he? Even after all this time, he can’t decide if he’s glad he accidentally took part of that fucking place into himself that first time or not.

He’s glad Eleven isn’t alone in this. Glad he can be there for the girl who’s just as much a little sister to him as Max is, now. Glad he can remember all the moments he’s had with Eddie in all these endless loops. But oh sometimes he’d give anything to have his blissful ignorance back.

He’s lucky in some sick way, he thinks. He has the choice. Will is already infected every time they start over. The thing that makes Max vulnerable to Vecna is something they cannot change. Steve, though, can choose not to take that mouthful of rotten, rotten blood. He can suck in an extra mouthful of air before the things bring him down, give himself those few extra seconds for Nancy, Robin, and Eddie to come charging to his rescue. He can release himself from the knowledge he’s living these same hellish years over and over again any time. El has begged him to, many times.

He glances down at the girl in his arms, clinging to his waist and trying to brace herself for yet another round. Knows he never will. They’re in this together, no matter what. He can’t let her carry this burden alone. He’s going to sink his teeth into that fucking bat every time, until they’re sure they’ve figured it out. Until they know how to free Will and Max. Until they can save everyone. Then he’ll let himself out of the loop. Only then.

Then maybe he’ll finally get to see what the possibility that hovers between him and Eddie will grow to be.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” he asks, like the sun is going to come up on them here. Like he’ll stumble down to the kitchen, carefully stepping over sleeping bodies to start coffee and pancakes. Like it really is over, instead of about to start again.

“Breakfast burrito,” El says, and they both ignore how tired she sounds. How defeated.

There has to be a way to save them all…there has to. They just have to hang on until they find it. He closes his eyes and thinks of Robin’s laugh. Dustin’s loud voice. Eddie’s pretty, pretty eyes. One more time. He can do it one more time. They’re close. They have to be.

“Breakfast burrito. Bacon, eggs, cheese, peppers, no onions.” He squeezes her tighter, and her fist tightens on his shirt. “And something soft and pretty to wear.”

“Pretty,” she agrees.

“We’ve got this,” he says, and wishes harder than he has ever wished for anything in his life that he isn’t lying. “One more time.”

El takes another deep breath. Straightens, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She slips out from under his arm, but keeps hold of his hand. “One more time,” she says solemnly. He doesn’t know how many times they have made this promise to each other.

He lost count a long time ago.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #background but it's there #Steve Harrington #Eleven (stranger things)#jane hopper #I don't have the patience for a real time loop fic so have a condensed one #my writing #fic prompt

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likeabulldigidigibombombombom · 6 months

Note

sorry i think fake dating for felix not arranged marriage

Title: "Boyfriend"

This is a great request TYSM😻😻😻

I’m hoping that you’re a girl because I’m better at writing for fem readers

If you're not I'm so sorry💀

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

Trope/Genre: Fake dating, fluff

Warnings: They make fun of each other a lot, Felix is a bit of an ass for shits and giggles, its fine though because he can do no wrong, bad flirting, some suggestive comments at the end so MINORS DNI, Ignore my non-american English (It’s because I’m not from america🙀)

Felix is not an idol in this fic.

1,634 words

Summary: Your Mum assumes that you have a boyfriend. Since you are desperate for approval, you invite a friend to the family reunion to pose as your boyfriend. Shit gets wild. Turns out it was for the better.

For years, you’ve never been able to find a relationship anywhere. Guys weren’t interested, girls weren’t interested, absolutely no one has ever been interested in you romantically. Growing up, this wasn’t a problem, since your parents didn’t want their “Sweet little girl” to be dating. But you were getting older, and your house was slowly getting lonelier.

One day, your parents called you to organize a family gathering. “Oh and also!” Your Mum stated. “You can bring a date. I’m sure you’ve found someone by now! Hasn’t your best friend gotten a partner?” You sighed. “Yes Mum, all of my friends are in relationships now.” “So, when are we gonna meet him?” “Meet who?” “Your boyfriend, I’m sure you’re just hiding him from us because you’re scared of our reaction. I’ll assure you, we aren’t judgemental at all!” You rolled your eyes as your Mum kept talking. “Bring him to the family reunion! It’ll be fun!” As you were about to interrupt, your Mum continued. “Oh no! I have to go pick up something from the shops before it gets dark! I love you! Bye!”

You pressed the hangup button. Your brain started to spiral. ‘How am I gonna do this? There’s no way I’m going to be able to find a boyfriend in time.’ Your eyes lit up. ‘What if I don’t need an actual partner? I just need someone to pretend to be my actual partner!’ You thought about all of your friends, trying to think of one that was single. Your brain instantly went to Felix, a friend who you didn’t know extremely well, but you knew him well enough that you’d be able to ask him for this favour without it being super weird.

Both of you met at a bus stop. It was raining heavily. Sadly, the stop didn’t have a shelter so you stood there under your little umbrella. Felix was in the same situation as you, except he didn’t have an umbrella. He was getting drenched. When he let out a small “achoo” you decided that you had to work up all of the courage in your body and ask if he wanted to share an umbrella. His eyes lit up and he smiled. You thought it was the brightest smile in the world. His eyes looked like two perfect crescent moons. He stood under your umbrella and you started talking. The bus was 30 minutes away and you were both taking the same bus. Conversations between you two flowed easily. When he got to his stop, you exchanged numbers.

You’ve hung out alone and in groups a couple of times with him and he at least knows what your family dynamic is like and how expecting your parents are. That is the reason why he wasn’t surprised when he was told to come to your house because of an emergency and he was told that he was now your fake ‘boyfriend’.

“So when’s the family reunion?” “October 6th” “Oh I can totally come to that! This is gonna be fun.” “Fun? You know that we’re gonna have to make up stories and kiss and cuddle and shit right?” “I’m not totally opposed to that.” “Well that’s because you’re super cuddly, I’m not like that.” “Well, you’re gonna have to pretend now!” “This is annoying, thanks for helping though. You’re like, an insanely good friend.” “I’m not just a friend anymore” He made kissy faces at you and you felt your face heat up. “You suck.”

When you arrived, Felix grabbed your hand. You felt butterflies flutter around your stomach. He rang the doorbell. “You’re blushing.” “What?” “Never mind!” Your Mum swung open the door with a fake smile plastered on her face, her smile quickly became genuine when she saw your hand interlaced with Felix’s. “Oh my gosh! Hello! Come in! What’s your name?” “My name is Felix! Nice to meet you.” He and your Mum hugged as she led you into the kitch(ive😨)en where you and your other family members sat around plates of food.

You and Felix were being bombarded with questions at the speed of light. He was mainly the one answering them, since he was better at making up answers. You just sat there and wondered how this fever dream happened. “Felix?” One of your Aunts spoke up. “Hmm?” “How long have you and Y/N been dating?” He looked at you with a smirk and you realised he was gonna say something that would fuck up the rest of the conversation.

“A year.” He replied. Gasps could be heard from around the room. “And you aren’t living together yet?!” Your grandma asked with a horrified look on her face. “We’re actually moving in together soon, she’s packing right now.” “Are you moving into her house or is she moving into yours?” “She’s moving into mine since mine is bigger.” “You need to tell us your address once Y/N moves in! We would love to visit. We can also help you pack!” Your Dad said. Felix’s hand was sitting comfortably on your thigh as he looked at you evilly. ‘This is gonna go badly’ You thought.

Once you and Felix got into his car he immediately bursted out laughing. “Oh my god, they actually believed it!” You spoke up. “Why did you say I’m moving into your house?” “For fun.” “You suck. I’m actually gonna have to move in with you now because my parents want to visit.” “I’ve been wanting a roommate.”

When you got home, he asked if he could stay over and discuss everything further. You hesitated, but you realised that you really needed to set some ground rules, so you let him stay. “You’re so scared of PDA it’s funny, it’s like you think you’re gonna fall in love with me if you hug me.” He said. “I’m not afraid of hugs, you’re just annoying.” “You are so mean.” “Says the guy who purposely screwed me over in front of my family” “Are you actually mad at me? I’m so sorry we can stage a fake break-up if that would make you comfortable! I didn’t mean to annoy you-” “Felix, it’s fine! Chill. I can move in with you and we can stay in separate rooms. Even though it’s a huge fucking process just for my parents to think that I can get bitches.” “There’s one problem with that.” “Oh no, what is it this time?” “There’s only one bedroom.”

4 weeks later

You were sitting in the living room while Felix brought you some hot chocolate. Living with him wasn’t as bad as expected. Some days he slept on the couch and some days you slept on the couch. Felix’s shitty flirting wasn’t ever too much of a problem, because he made up for it with his sweet personality. You had spent one night playing board games with him, and you looked at him and he looked perfect. Like everything you ever wanted, until he made you pick up eight cards in UNO flip. Your parents had come over a couple of times to check on you and spend time with Felix. They liked him more than they liked you honestly. He was kind and charismatic which made his parents fall in love with him.

“You know what we should do?” Felix said. You put down your phone and took a sip of your hot chocolate. “What? “We should practice kissing.” You choked on your hot chocolate as Felix affectionately rubbed your back. “What?!” You yelled. “You seem too scared to kiss me, and I don’t want to break any boundaries. So I thought we could practice for the first time in the privacy of our own home.” “Oh.” “Are you okay? Do you not like kissing? It’s obviously fine if you don’t, I just think it would be a good way to sell our relationship” As Felix took a sip of his own hot chocolate, you said, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

It was his turn to choke. You laughed at him and he looked at you with wide eyes. “You’ve never kissed anyone?!” “What do you mean by that?” “I mean, someone who looks like you has never even kissed someone?! You’ve got to be kidding! I mean you’re super hot, cute, pretty, and stunning. How has no one kissed you?!” You blushed at his words, earning a smile from him.

“I don’t know, I guess I just haven’t found the right person.” “What if I’m the right person?” He moved closer to you and his pinky interlaced with yours. “Can I kiss you Y/N?” You nodded.

Your eyes closed as you felt soft lips meet yours. You could feel his heart beating in his chest, which was comforting because you could tell he was as nervous as you. He brought one of his hands up to your head and started to play with your hair. It was so cute. He was so cute. Everything about him was cute. The kiss was gentle and short, but you didn’t want it to end. He pulled away, and his face was flushed. “You’re so fucking cute.” You said. “I was gonna say the same to you.” There was a pause in the conversation until you spoke up.

“You have really tiny hands.” You held his palm next to yours and laughed at the difference. “That’s true, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to use them.” He smirked at you and the tips of your ears turned red. “Stop flirting with me or I’m gonna start thinking that you actually want to be my real boyfriend.” “Maybe I do.”

That night, when you complained about how uncomfortable the couch was, Felix offered to let you sleep in his bed with him.

You took the opportunity immediately.

Author note: Thank you so much for the request! I loved writing this so much! Like always, constructive criticism is wanted! If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics like this one <3 Thank you!

Masterlist

#skz imagines #skz headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #felix x reader #straykids fanfic #stray kids x female reader #lee felix x reader #felix x y/n #likeabulldigidigibombombombom

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nicosraf · 5 days

Note

Hi Rafa!

Back again in your inbox and I have what’s probably a silly question but I am nothing but silly and goofy so I’ll ask anyway

I was thinking about yk the verious depictions of lucifer (as every sane and normal person does) and it got me wondering onwhat made you decide to characterise Lucifer the way you did, mainly because usually in modern media he’s very much seen as a anti-hero and mostly he’s seen as a good (-ish) guy that didn’t do too much wrong, the rebellion is usually very much written off as something akin to teenage rebellion and God is just seen as a disappointed parent that had no other choice but teach a lesson to his kids (and well that is of course because gods forbid someone sees God as anything less than the perfect father but I digress), for example the Lucifer series does this and in part too hazbin hotel.

And idk it was refreshing to see your read of Lucifer, he starts good and very much kidlike and then his wonder and love become corrupt I’d say, I struggle to call him evil because well for one I have what could be considered too much sympathy for him and I understand him, he was set up to fail in a lot of ways. So I guess I just wonder what made you say “no I’m going to keep the “bad” and “evil” that is in him”

(I am aware that the answer is probably just well he’s like that in most classical depictions but idk I want to hear you ramble about Luci and his development because that’s always interesting and I love it ajdhsh)

Sorry for the confused ramble anyway lots of love from Italy <3

-J :)

Hello! This is a dangerous question!! I have many many essays I'd love to write about the depiction of Lucifer in media and about what eventually led me to making Lucifer like that. It's also fresh in my mind right now because I saw that Lucifer Hazbin Hotel episode recently. (I actually don't have a ton of thoughts on Hazbin Lucifer. He is very cute, but Hazbin isn't trying to be theological I think; it's just having fun with the mythology.)

I would say that societal depictions of Lucifer always mirror a lot of the way that society has come to understand not the devil, but God, parent-child relationships, authority, tradition, and so on. Some people think Paradise Lost was the first to make Lucifer a hero, but it's actually very clear that Milton wanted his flaws to outweigh the good things, to make Satan ultimately a bad person, and to justify God's actions to us.

Like 200 years later, William Blake started saying that Paradise Lost was pro-Lucifer, though by accident: "Milton was of the Devil's party without knowing it." But Blake lives in a very different time, during the French and American revolutions and the industrial revolution. Old traditions and empire are getting shaken up, the story of Lucifer looks a lot more heroic.

I won't get too much into how Satanic panic affected things (or even the rise of anti-theist communist regimes!), though I think the Satanic panic of the 90s really exacerbated Lucifer's connection to teenage rebellion. (Also, I'm focusing on the US because of how much their media is exported and influences other countries).

But so then we got the modern Lucifer I used to see quite a bit — suave, night club owning, slutty, probably referenced bisexual, manipulator of women. I always thought this development was kind of strange. It's almost like what Blake did to Milton's Lucifer; we didn't change how the people before us thought of him, we just decided that the Lucifer we're supposed to hate is actually super cool.

But I was not super compelled by this Lucifer. And I reference these lines a lot, but the idea of Satan in Western Christianity came from several passages from the Bible, one of which is Ezekiel 28, and I was really struck with line 14: “You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created till wickedness was found in you," as well as the multiple times the chapter stresses that the cherub of Eden fell because of his corrupting beauty above all.

I realized I never really saw "blameless" Lucifer, innocent Lucifer. In a lot of interpretations, he's just sort of born wrong or always a little Evil. But the lines say that he was innocent once, and I got really caught up in that. I thought of God watching Lucifer be beautiful and innocent in all that time (like a voyeur).

It felt like the next step in Lucifer's development to take the child-parent relationship between him and God and make it ugly. (Though sticking with the dichotomy of good vs evil didn't really work for me. Lucifer isn't good but he's not evil either, and the weird love and hate mixture is what brings him closer to how God is, too (to me)).

We live in a day and age where all authority is being critiqued, where we don't laugh at teenage rebellion as much. I mean, if you watch any recent Disney movie, you'll see parents learning from their children to stop the cycle of generational abuse. And, of course, with Lucifer becoming so associated with queerness (Lil Nas' MONTERO for example), the framing that he's just a metaphor for a teen rebel who will one day realize his dad was right... falls apart. Lots of teens kicked out of their house for being gay are grown up now and making shows/movies/etc.,. And I think it's always better not to shy away from trauma victims being imperfect and, occasionally, cruel.

So. yeah! I've always been surprised that Lucifer as an imperfect victim of parental abuse, running away, taking some of his sibling with him, isn't more common in general.

#i may not be making sense rn #mine #ask

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pxrplebxtterfly · 11 months

Text

Yes Father (2/2)

gifs belong to me

18+

Pairings: Sam Winchester’s alias Father Frehley x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, priest kink?, mentions of religion, alcohol use, spanking, fingering, blowjob.

Summary: Father Frehley shows up in your town and the two of you share a nightcap.

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: This fic was written in a FIRST PERSON POV!!! This is part of a two-part fic about Sam’s alias Father Frehley. This second part takes place during season 12, episode 4: American Nightmare, ten years later. Although Sam goes by Father DiNero in the episode, the narrator still knows him as Father Frehley. Also, so sorry for taking forever to put this out, I’m working full time this summer so it’s been hard to make time to write. This 2nd part might be less cohesive and consistent due to my inability to write all the time. Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy!!!

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

It’s been ten years. It’s been ten years since I’ve seen Father Frehley. Until now. There he is walking out of the church on my block with the same priest he was with before. This is not what I expected when I decided to take a walk this morning.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

I moved to the midwest after finishing college for a job. I also wanted to get out of my small town in the deeply religious south. After my experience with Father Frehley, one thing led to another and I started to transition out of the church.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

That’s how I ended up here, in my new town, in front of him once again.

He sees me, standing on the sidewalk across the street, shock on my face. I see him too. He’s even taller than I remember. His hair is longer and his face more chiseled.

He’s ten years older, so am I.

He’s equally as shocked, the chances of encountering each other again are impossibly low. Yet, here he is, walking across the street towards me, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Father Frehley?” I say once he’s close enough to where I don’t need to raise my voice. He steps up onto the sidewalk in front of me, his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, it’s good to see you. What are you doing in Iowa?” he greets with a smile.

I’m in a trance seeing him again.

“I live here, what are you doing here?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Visiting friends,” he looks back at the church, “how long’s it been?”

“Ten years I think,” I say blushing when I’m reminded of the last time we were together.

“Wow, well you haven’t aged at all” he gestures to me, a twinkle in his eyes.

His jaw is covered in stubble, aging him. He looks more mature and grown.

“Thank you” I say and blush again, as I see the way he looks at me.

He still has that same lust and desire in him, like he had when we first met. I can feel it.

“Father!” Father Simmons calls to him from their car.

Apparently he doesn’t recognize me, though I don’t judge him for that.

“I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you again. Let me know if you want to get together while I’m still in town!” he says softly, looking down at me.

I say goodbye and watch as the handsome priest saunters back to the other side of the road.

I hate myself for my horny thoughts: that he’s only gotten sexier.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

It’s 10:30. I shouldn’t be calling him but I’ve found myself distracted the whole day after running into him this morning. I can’t stop thinking about the way he corrupted me, and how he taught me so gently. My skin burns, daydreaming about his massive physique and probing eyes.

The last time we did this, I knew nothing. Now I know that what he did was not the way things usually go.

However, I don’t hold any resentment towards him or feel like what he did was wrong. In fact, it’s always turned me on, knowing that this young, hot, kind, priest strayed from his religious upholdings to teach and please me.

It’s something I fantasize and think about often; the kinky sort of thing that makes most people raise an eyebrow with confusion.

For me, it’s an eyebrow of intrigue.

I ransack my jewelry box on the dresser looking for the stack of cards with numbers on them, I’ve accumulated from men over the years. When I find it, I untie the rubber band holding the cards in place, and take the card from the very bottom.

It’s his. The number on it might not even be his anymore but it’s worth a shot.

I pick up my cell phone and punch the number in. I press call and hold the phone up to my ear. The line rings three times, and I hold my breath the whole time. After the third ring, the line clicks and I hear a “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Father Frehley?” I ask nervously.

“Uh, yeah it is, can I help you?”

I breathe out, shakey just from hearing his voice.

“I hope so. You told me to let you know if I wanted to get together and well, I do right now if you’re not busy” I bite my lip, hoping he can tell it’s me.

“I thought it might’ve been you,” he chuckles softly.

“Are you up for a nightcap?” I ask. There’s a pause and then I hear his laugh start again.

“You know what, as a matter of fact I could use a drink. What’d you have?”

“Whiskey, bourbon, scotch… Any of those sound good?”

“Send me your address, I’ll be right over” he says, his mind made up already.

We end the phone call and I text him my address. In anticipation, I set out all my best liquor and daydream about the things he might do to me once he comes over.

Within minutes of calling him, the Chevy Impala pulls up outside my front window. I hide behind my curtains and watch as he walks up to my front door. My heart is racing, watching him take long strides up my sidewalk, in the dim porch light.

He knocks on the door and I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. I act like I wasn’t just watching him and take a second to answer.

When I open the door, there he is. My body tenses seeing him and I’m almost overcome with excitement.

He stands there smirking down at me, thrilled at my desperation. He’s still wearing a black suit and white roman collar like he’s just been to mass. My body is overrun by attraction and I can feel my core jump as I step aside and let him in.

“So, you said you have whiskey” he says as I close the front door behind him.

“I do, it’s in the kitchen, you can follow me” I say, and walk in front of him, down the hallway to the kitchen.

“You have a beautiful house; it smells nice in here, like a real home” he says behind me.

“Thanks, it’s probably all the candles I burn, I can never have too many” I say and grab two glasses off the kitchen counter.

Moments of silence pass and he doesn’t say something until I’ve poured our drinks and put the bottle of whiskey down.

“You know I never thought I’d see you again, so seeing you this morning was rather jarring” he says as I pick up our glasses.

“Jarring in a bad way?” I ask, walking towards him and offering the drink.

“I wouldn’t say so” he says gently as our fingers brush when I transfer the glass to his hand.

We lock eyes, his green irises putting a spell on me. I feel my heart burn and I don’t walk back to the other side of the kitchen for a moment; too lost in the lusty haze surrounding us.

When I finally back away, he asks me a question: “Are you still religious?” He’s looking down at the ground, noticing some smudge on his shoe.

Oh God, I think. He’ll hate my answer, I mean he’s a priest. But he broke his vows first, who is he to judge?

I blush with guilt and shake my head. I decide to confess with a hint of playfulness, “How can I be after what you did to me?”

His eyes shoot up to look at me. When he sees my smirk he takes a deep breath in, as if trying to hold something back. After a second he nods, smiles, and says, “That’s very fair”

“What about you? Are you still religious?” I tease, taking a sip of my drink.

“What do you think?” he scoffs and adjusts his collar, “However, I’m no longer a junior priest, I’ve fully joined the priesthood.”

“Oh yeah? Congratulations. Can I ask you a question about priests?”

I decide to be bold because already this whiskey is having an effect on me. I want him to take my clothes off and have me right here on my kitchen island.

“Of course, anything you want,” he says. The look on his face makes me think he already knows exactly what I'm about to ask. It has to be brought up eventually.

I bite my lower lip before asking, “What kind of priest fingers someone?”

He pauses, his eyes probing mine with a fire lit behind them. His eyes undress me, the lower half of his face going a little slack with shock.

He takes a breath, licks his lips and says, “a sacrilegious one”

I shiver under his gaze, and ask quietly, “Are you still sacrilegious?”

He stares at me, sinful ideas blossoming in his head. I can see them form behind his eyes.

“Should we find out?” he asks in a low voice, straightening up.

“Yes please” I smile and put my glass down. He does the same.

He walks towards me and corners me to the counter. He places his hands on the counter beside my hips and looms over me. The smell of his cologne hits me and my legs become weak. As I stare up at him he lifts his hand off the counter and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

With his fingers gently cupping my face, he kisses me. It’s soft at first, and so gentle. His warm lips barely even on mine. The taste of whiskey crawls into my mouth and makes me burn to taste more of him. He continues, gifting me with slow, loving, sweet, kisses.

The tantalizing, methodical movement of his lips makes my head buzz. His deliverance of affection and passion sends heat everywhere, flooding every vein.

Soon, the lust of years gone by, is too strong to resist and things begin to heat up. His tongue glides into my mouth and we begin to devour each other. Our mouths open wide, and greedy to explore.

Both of his large hands hold my face as I melt like ice cream in his mouth. The feeling of his hands cradling my jaw and skull so tenderly makes my cunt lurch with amusement. Knowing how vulnerable and fragile I am as he handles me, twists the knot inside me tighter.

His hands begin to get a little rough, a little more in control. They hold me close to his lips and his fingers tangle and tug slightly at my hair.

His stubble and fallen strands of hair tickle my cheeks as his body slowly molds into mine.

My hips push against his thighs and my lower stomach is pressed to his pelvis. I can feel him stiffen through his slacks. He moans into me when I push myself into him more, not wanting any space between us.

I wrap my hands around his neck, keeping him leaning downwards to kiss me. I weave my fingertips into his hair at the nape of his neck and play with it. Apparently he likes this because he places a knee between my legs and pushes it forward until his thigh reaches my crotch. Feeling the pressure he creates, I roll my hips and pathetically grind on his thigh.

I moan into his mouth as he bites my lower lip and lifts his leg to create more pressure. We part naturally to breathe and he moves his hands to my ass. He squeezes gently and asks, “Have you been a good girl all these years?”

I don’t know what to say so I just nod and whimper as he grips my ass, and I chase his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands softly, fingers clawing into my flesh.

I sigh, out of breath and because his words turn me on. “Probably not Father,” I say, “but I can be good for you tonight”

He responds with a shaky moan-like laugh, delighted with my response and kisses me with such desire I almost become a puddle at his feet.

He continues to knead at my ass, pushing and pulling with the rhythm of my hips on his leg. He does this all while kissing me, the cat and mouse with his tongue making me grind harder.

I’m panting into his mouth, holding his face as close to mine as I can. We stop kissing when I’m unable to breathe and need to concentrate on not overwhelming myself with pleasure so quickly.

“Look at you getting all worked up on my leg” he whispers into my ear.

I moan at his comment and squeeze my thighs around his leg.

His hands move from my ass to my breasts. He squeezes them through my shirt. I immediately rip my shirt off over my head and undo my bra for him.

He marvels at my tits and takes them in his hands. As we kiss he pinches my nipples and runs over them with his thumb. I’m whimpering into his mouth, twitching at his touch.

He pulls off my mouth and ducks down to my chest. He takes one of my breasts into his mouth and sucks. His tongue plays with my nipple as he sucks my breast.

I hold his head to my chest, so far immersed in this pleasure I block out the world.

He moves his mouth to my other breast and I moan. He sucks and plays with my tits for a few minutes, giving them attention. When he’s finished he begins kissing me again. He kisses me and I taste my skin on his tongue. He pulls away suddenly, and I can tell in his eyes, that he’s thought of something.

“You wanna be good? Turn around,” he tells me.

That’s what I do. I turn around and bend over the counter. I feel him pull at my jeans, and feel the cold air hit me. He pulls my pants down to my ankles and I kick them off.

He comes up behind me, hips pushing against my bare bottom. I feel him through his pants and I clench around nothing. He leans over me and kisses my neck just below my ear. The sound of his breathing and feel of his lips forces a sigh and whimper out of me.

His hands feel up my waist and back, germinating seeds of heat sowed under my skin. His hands travel to my shoulders, and down my arms. His fingers wrap around my wrists, and this display of dominance makes my stomach flutter.

He whispers into my ear, “Stand up”

We stand up at the same time, his hands let go of my wrists. When we’re up, he turns me around against the counter by my waist. He kisses me once more and grabs my wrists again.

When he pulls away, he keeps one hand holding my wrist. He starts to walk to my living room, and I follow him as close as I can. He leads me to my couch and he sits down in the middle. I sit next to him.

“Bend over my lap,” he commands.

I give him a curious look that asks, “what are you about to do to me?”

His eyes shimmer, he smirks and nods to his lap. I’m intrigued and crawl over him.

I feel his hard-on underneath the side of my hip as I settle myself over his lap.

Wasting no time, he runs his hands over my ass and grabs palm fulls of my flesh. I feel his fingers grip my skin to expose my pussy for him to look at.

“Fuck” he moans and slaps my ass a little.

I squeal from the sharp sting and circle my hips in response. I wasn’t prepared for his hit but I enjoyed it.

“Oh did you like that?” he asks and another slap, a little bit harder than the last, lands on my other cheek.

I moan a ‘mhm’ and squeeze my thighs together. He slaps me again.

I’m cursing at the surge of pleasure being sent to my cunt each time he spanks me.

He rubs his palm over the places he’s slapped, cooling and soothing them with his touch.

Once again, he spreads my folds with his fingers and groans at the sight of me. My slick covers the inside of my thighs, coating my skin.

“Such a pretty pussy” he murmurs, groping my ass. I feel and hear him spit on me, his saliva landing right at my entrance. My stomach churns with heat, and I wiggle my hips, trying to grind into his lap.

I then feel his finger circle my hole, prodding at it, teasing me. I push my ass up, trying to make his finger slip in. The heavy tip of his finger, toying with me, makes my head spin. The crave for his fingers in me becomes almost impossible to bear.

“Father, please” I plead, my face buried in throw pillows.

“Please what? Cmon use your words for me” he teases.

I feel his other hand begin to rub my clit. The desperation for his fingers in me only amplifies. My skin prickles from the torture he’s causing.

“Please put your fingers in me” I beg.

He listens and plunges his long, thick finger in. I release a sob of relief and pleasure, when I feel him deep against my walls.

He begins to curl his finger, slowly hollowing me out. He soon starts oscillating between fucking his finger in and out of me, and pushing up against my g-spot.

I crave more, and that’s what he delivers. Adding another finger, he opens me up and pumps into me more ferociously.

He fucks me with his fingers, deep and hard, making tears form in the corners of my eyes. His other hand vibrates with speed against my clit, making me moan and squirm. He fucks me perfectly, hitting every pleasure nerve in me. His fingers start to vibrate in me and I begin to cry from the overwhelming bliss.

His fingers coax an orgasm out of me, setting free what had been building up all day. It’s over way too fast and I’m in shock at how easily he drew an orgasm from me.

“Oh my god” I pant once he’s slowed his movements and I’ve come down.

“That good, huh?” he teases and takes his fingers out of me gently.

I sigh at the empty feeling and push myself off my stomach. I sit back on my knees and say, “you have no idea,”

He drags his fingers across my waist, leans towards me, and before our lips touch, he says, “oh I think I do”

As he speaks he brings his two fingers that were in me, between our lips.

I blush, embarrassed at my orgasm that covers his fingers.

“Open,” he says, and I do. I let him push his fingers into my mouth, exploring my tongue.

“Do you like the way you taste?” he whispers, his gaze never straying from my mouth. He’s smirking, enjoying the show, as he watches me suck on his fingers. I nod, showing him. I take his wrist in my hand and pull his fingers from my lips. Once out, I kiss the tips of his fingers and he scoffs as it turns him on.

“Get on your knees” he says softly. He’s not commanding or harsh, but almost moaning with his anticipation.

I kiss him quickly on the lips and watch him smile as I slide off the couch and onto the floor. My knees bruise but I don’t care, I just shuffle myself between his long, meaty thighs.

I look at his crotch, and see the tent in his pants. It makes the heat between my thighs only grow. He leans forwards and begins to stroke my hair. He pets me and says, “So far, you’ve behaved well. But, I want you to show me how good you can be”

I know what he wants and I’m more than happy to service him.

“You think you can do that for me?” he asks.

“Yes Father,” I say and reach my hand up to palm at his erection.

He breathes out quickly through his nose and says “good girl,”

I watch him lean back into the couch, giving me full control over him. He unbuttons his black dress shirt and peels his roman collar off. He shrugs off his shirt and I’m stunned at how his torso looks. It’s so sculpted and tan, it’s better than I ever imagined. I notice a tattoo of a pentagram at the center of what appears to be the sun. It’s above his left peck and it sparks curiosity in me. I want to know the story behind it eventually.

I slither my hands up to his belt and undo it slowly, biting my lip in excitement. I remember him well; how could I forget?

His belt undone, I zip open his fly and then tug at his pants and underwear. I need to see him, I need to feel him.

He lifts his hips and pushes his pants down and off, kicking them to the side.

Finally, his red, inflamed cock is free, and all for me. I grab it immediately and wrap my hand around it, feeling how thick it is.

He lets out a shaky breath as I take him in my fist.

“Come on baby, show me what you can do,” he breathes out, encouraging me.

I kiss the head of his dick, smearing pre-cum on my lips. I then stick my tounge out and lick around his tip. Once I’ve swirled my tongue around the head of his leaking dick, I begin to make out with his shaft. I kiss up and down his cock, all the way down to his balls. I suck on his balls, taking one into my mouth, and then the other. He moans as I slobber on them.

“Fuck, you’re so-,” he can’t finish his thought, too lost in watching as I lick every exposed piece of him.

I’m looking up at him the whole time, watching his reactions. His fist is holding my hair back, guiding my head gently. I finally wrap my lips around him and suck. He groans as I begin to slowly bob up and down, getting my mouth used to him.

“Look at you…” he coos, proud and stunned by my eagerness. I smile through my motions, happy he’s in awe of my performance.

As I continue, I look up and see his eyes shut tight and jaw clenched as I suck. His hand on the back of his head causes his arm to flex, sending a ripple of tingles to my pussy. I hum in pleasure at his enjoyment and this causes him to let another moan escape.

Hearing him fills me with endurance and excitement. I force myself to go deeper, taking him into my mouth a little bit farther. I keep the same up and down motion, going a little faster as well.

I pop off him, giving myself a minute to breathe. I look up at him and his face is heavily flushed and he’s biting his bottom lip. “Fuck” he sighs.

I giggle and continue where I left off.

Now, I’m taking him all the way to the back of my throat. My teeth have rubbed the inside of my lips raw, and his cock has bruised my throat, but I’m not about to stop. I’m giving him the sloppiest head of his life and it’s made clear to me that he’s almost done.

He’s been panting for a few minutes now, as if he’s trying to control himself. Trying to hold out a little bit longer. I keep going, focusing on his pleasure only. My hands are playing with his balls and jerking on the lower half of his cock.

He goes silent and then all at once I hear him moan and let out curses while something warm fills my mouth and throat. When he’s finished, I slow and stop.

I look up at him and show him my tongue, still laced with his seed. He breathes out an exhausted moan.

I swallow him and show him my empty mouth after.

“Fuck,” he moans, “You’re such a good girl, you should be proud”

He bends forwards and I sit up on my knees. He puts his hands on the sides of my head and kisses me. It’s a little dry, both of us out of breath, but it’s endearing.

He pulls away, his hands still on my cheeks and stares at me. I look up at him, letting him admire me. He plays with my hair and caresses my cheekbone with his thumb.

Neither of us speak, preferring to let the silence embrace us.

The smell of our sweat is thick in the air, almost fog like.

I stand up and climb into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and straddle him. I cling to him, the both of us naked and flushed. He envelopes me with his long, lean arms, pulling me tight against him.

We sit here momentarily, breathing each other in, enjoying the intimacy we’re sharing.

I feel him start to kiss my shoulder and move to my neck. I pull my face from his shoulder, allowing him access to my throat. He kisses and sucks on my neck lovingly. He’s inattentive to anything else.

His lips on my neck make me groan lazily. Sparks fly off of us, driving me wild. He kisses up my throat, to my jaw and diligently pours his affection onto my skin. He finally reaches my mouth. Our kisses are like before, slow, less hesitant but just as impassioned.

I desperately don’t want to break away from what we’ve just shared but I know that it’s fleeting. I pull away and hold his head in my hands. It’s my turn to admire him.

He smiles at me and says, “I don’t want to go, but I think I should”

I smile with him and nod. We both know he has his priest thing even though he’s probably the worst priest I’ve ever met.

“Call me if you’re ever in town again” I say.

“Absolutely,” he says.

I climb off him and dress myself. He sits up off the couch and does the same.

Before he leaves I take a pen and sticky note from a drawer in my kitchen and write my number and name on it. I hand it to him after he puts his shoes on and is standing by the door.

He slips the sticky note in his pocket and pulls me in by my waist for one last kiss. When we part he says, “Goodbye,” and smiles as he opens the door.

He walks through and out into the night. I take his place by the door and watch as he walks down my sidewalk and gets into his car.

I shut the door as he drives off and sigh while I think about what just occurred.

I still smell him and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to wash it off.

#supernatural #sam winchester #smut #spn #sam winchester smut

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