#but man for some reason my brain has been mean to me lately over the lack of writing and the BG3 playing
Text
Kinktober (reuploaded)
Car Sex (Matt)
Request: your writing makes me go wild. would you be able to write something about the reader and matt dating , so they get like zero privacy and fuck in the car the idea has been rotting my brain i fear/Matt takes you for a late-night drive and you end up fucking in the backseat/Earned It by The Weeknd plays on aux in Matt's car. Both Matt & y/n get in the mood, proceed to fuck in the car the rest of the night/Teasing Matt while he’s driving smut
Warnings: Sex, slight overstimulation, car sex, road head, fingering, cum eating, cute fluffy little moment at the end
Matt’s pov
I love living with my brothers, I really do, but I hate that they don’t know what privacy is. Y/n, my girlfriend of 3 years, lives with us as well, me and her have the master bedroom, which is the biggest. As much as I love my brothers, I don’t love when Nick literally steals Y/n away when we’re having movie nights or cuddling. And I most definitely fucking hate it when Chris ALWAYS ruins the mood, even if we lock the door he’ll pound on it until we open it. Sometimes he’ll even come into our room at night just to sleep next to me like when we were younger, thank god Y/n loves them both as much as I do, or else shit would be awkward.
Tonight I had planned for us to go see a movie at the drive-in, I even put down the seats in the back of her SUV and put blankets and squishmallows (Y/n’s favorite) as pillows back there to make it comfy. Nick and Chris had tried to invite themselves but I wasn’t going to let them ruin another one of my dates just because they think of Y/n as a little sister. Y/n and I hadn’t seen each other all day, we were both super busy so we were really looking forward to tonight but we definitely had an unexpected change of plans. When Y/n got back from her day with Madi she took a shower and got dressed in some comfy clothes, opting to blow dry her hair because it was cold outside.
I love seeing her like this when she only wears mascara and that damn strawberry lipgloss that I love so much along with some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. God, it was my favorite look on her, especially when the sweater she’d wear was mine. I was wearing basically the same thing but I had a backwards fitted on as well. It was starting to get dark so we decided to leave, the universe however, clearly didn’t want us to go on a fucking date because when we started driving on the freeway towards the drive-in theater, it started pouring, meaning all movies were now canceled. “Fuck, man! Why can’t I just take my girlfriend out on a decent date!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel.
Y/n’s pov
I understand why Matt got mad, but honestly, there was no reason for him to be, I was already just enjoying being alone with him right now. “Babe it’s okay, we can still go up to that one private view. And we can watch something on my Macbook, it’s still in my car from yesterday. Let’s make the most of our alone time” I told him while rubbing his arm. Matt just nodded, clearly upset that his plan got ruined by the weather, “Plus I can finally makeout with you and not have to worry about getting interrupted” I added, half-joking.
Matt still looked upset so I moved my hand onto his thigh, I saw Matt quickly glance at me but neither of us said anything. I kept my hand there while I changed the playlist to a more relaxed and vibey one, occasionally tightening my grip on his thigh. I noticed the way that simple action got to him as he slowly started to get hard. We were almost to the overlook so I decided to start teasing Matt a bit, we hadn’t been able to have sex for a while so I moved my hand to rest over his growing hard-on. “Y/n” he said in a warning tone, “Matthew” I tested back with a smirk.
I started rubbing Matt over his sweatpants as we started driving up the little mountain when Earned It by The Weeknd started playing. This song seems to always get us in the mood so I decided to slip my hand into Matt’s sweatpants, lightly squeezing and rubbing his cock over his boxers. The car stopped and the music ended as Matt threw it in park and took the keys out of the ignition. He grabbed my wrist, pulling it out of his pants, and clicked the thing to unbuckle both of our seatbelts before he grabbed my jaw turning me to face him.
“Why are you always such a fucking tease” he asked in frustration, “Because I miss being able to touch my boyfriend whenever I want. I miss your cock Matty” I whined back as a response. Matt sighed, knowing I was right and he missed that too, but still pressed a very needy kiss to my lips. “Fuck I missed this side of you! Get in the back for me princess, we’re gonna take advantage of this alone time” he smirked as he kicked off his shoes. I did the same before hoping in the back through the center console area, Matt followed right after he took off his fitted.
“Hi” he giggled “Hi Matt” I giggled back, Matt looked at me with a smirk while biting his lip as he turned on the overhead light like they do in car videos. “Stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous” I blushed as he scooted closer to me, “I want you to get naked for me so I can finally feel your tight pussy around my cock again” he whispered in my ear before helping me take my hoodie off. We both took our sweats off as well, as well as my panties, Matt had pushed me so my back was against the door behind the driver’s side, sitting to the right of me.
He gripped my jaw, pulling me closer and mumbling, “God, I missed this” before smashing our lips together. Matt did this one thing that makes me literally go feral, he straddles me and essentially sits on my lap. I literally find it so fucking hot when he does that, especially when he’s the dominant one. I immediately moved one hand to start palming his hard cock, moving my kisses down his jaw to his neck where I sucked multiple hickies into the skin, probably more than I should’ve.
“That’s right baby, mark me up and claim me so everyone knows I’m yours” Matt groaned before pulling my head up to makeout again. This time the makeout was rough and wet, full of clashing teeth and needy tongues. Moans were exchanged between each other’s mouths until Matt pulled away, due to me starting to jerk him off over his boxers. “Babe don’t d-do that, you’re gonna make me cum before I can even get inside of you” he mumbled before moving us to lay down. “Then take your boxers off and fuck me already, I need it so bad Matty” I whined in frustration, making him laugh as we moved so I was laying down.
“Mhm I forgot how bossy you can be, I’ve missed it but I gotta stretch you out first babe” he said while hovering over me, slipping his right hand between our bodies. He ran his fingers through my folds, “Who got you this wet baby” he teased cockily as he brought up his shiny wet fingers. “You did! You did Matt, missed your cock so much” I whined before he shoved those two fingers into my mouth, making me taste myself. “Suck” he demanded, causing me to moan around his fingers, “That’s right baby, make those fingers nice and wet for me, even though you don’t really need to” he added, smirking at me.
Once Matt deemed my fingers wet enough, he stuck them both into me, groaning at how I could barely take his two fingers. After a couple of minutes of stretching me out I had to stop him, “Matt, I think I’m stretched out enough and if you don’t stop I’m going to end up cumming on your fingers instead of your cock” I whined. “Alright” is all he replied with, taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth “Mmm fuck, I love the way you taste” he added before pulling down his boxers.
Matt leaned down to start sucking hickies onto my boobs as he eased himself into me but I wasn’t here for slow sex. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer so his cock slammed into me “Shit baby, you’re so tight” he groaned. Matt started to slowly thrust into me, letting me get used to his size, “Matty please stop being gentle, need you to really fuck me!” I whimpered out. That was all Matt needed to hear before he ruthlessly started pounding into me. It’s a good thing nobody really knows about this place because if anyone came up here they’d definitely know we were having sex.
The car was shaking, windows were fogged up, and I’m sure our lewd moaning could be heard from outside of the car. I pulled Matt’s head away from my neck, where he was leaving lots of hickies to match his neck, and placed our lips together. I started sucking on Matt’s tongue and running my tongue across the roof of his mouth, two things that drive him absolutely insane. He let out a deep, throaty groan as his left arm, my favorite because of the tattoos, came up to start toying with my nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers.
“Babe— FUCK- pl-please choke me! I’m so close, I just need a little bit more” I moaned as we pulled apart, one of my hands was scratching down Matt’s back while the other was tightly gripping his hair. “Yeah? Want me to choke you so you can cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock while I fill you up?” he rambled out between grunts. His left hand wrapped tightly around my throat, applying just the right amount of pressure as Matt’s thrusts got both faster and harder.
“Shit! Matt, cum with me!” I moaned right before I came hard around his cock. After a few more thrusts, Matt let out an animalistic growl as he shot his load into me. I didn’t even have time to calm down from cumming when Matt did something he’s never done before. He pulled out and immediately went down and started eating me out as both of our cum oozed out of me, he’s literally never eaten me out after cumming in me before. And as amazing as this felt I was already feeling overstimulated, considering I didn’t get to come down from my first high.
Matt’s Pov
I missed eating Y/n out so much that when we both finally came I couldn’t control myself, she hadn’t even caught her breath before I went down on her. Usually, I would have never even thought about eating Y/n out after cumming in her, I always do it before we fuck, but today I was just in the moment. It honestly might sound disgusting, but my own cum tastes pretty good, and mixed with hers it’s just 10x better. “Fuck— Matt! M-Matt, stop I’m too sen-sensitive!” Y/n moaned about me as she pulled on my hair and kept trying to wriggle away.
I was in such a daze right now that I got fed up with her continuous moving. I slapped Y/n’s thigh pretty hard, a lot harder than I intended anyway, and pulled away for a second. “Y/n, stop fucking moving! I’m finally getting to give my sexy ass girlfriend head and I’m not stopping!” I growled out. Grabbing her thighs, I held them down as I started sucking our cum out of her pussy before I started fucking it with my tongue.
Y/n pulled my hair as I was sucking on her clit, causing me to groan against her. “Mhm Matt I’m gonna cum again— FUCK!” she cried out as she came all over my face. I let her actually catch her breath and come down from her high this time while I put my boxers and sweats back on since we needed to go home soon. It was now about 2:45am and I was exhausted, “I love you so much Y/n, I missed doing this” I said right before I softly kissed her, helping her put her panties back on.
“God, that was so hot babe! I totally wasn’t expecting you to do that” she said, still in shock. I felt myself slowly starting to get hard again while I put my shirt back on, helping Y/n/n get dressed. I gave her another soft kiss before climbing back into the front, offering Y/n my hand so she could do the same before putting my hat back on. “Are you ready to go back home princess?” I asked softly, placing a short kiss on her lips with a smile. “Mmm, I dunno. I think I need another kiss” Y/n replied softly, the only sound to be heard was the pitter-patter of the rain against the SUV.
We shared a few more soft kisses, smiling into them, but I had to pull away before we started making out again. “All better?” I asked, getting a hum back as an answer before I started driving. “Hey Matty, are you still hard?” Y/n pouted, “Uhh ye-yeah, don’t worry about it though. You just looked so hot and fucked out after I ate you out that I got hard again. It’s not a problem” I nervously replied back, not wanting her to think it wasn’t good enough.
Before I knew it, Y/n had her hand in my sweats and was teasingly rubbing my cock. “Babe-“ I started but Y/n cut me off, “You’re gonna say ‘you don’t have to do that’ and I know, but I want to” she said in a dominating tone. I just stayed quiet, knowing I wouldn’t win this fight. I was at a stop light when Y/n moved to lean over the center console and pulled my dick out making my breath hitch at both her cold hand and the air. I was at a loss for words as I’ve never gotten road head before and Y/n usually isn’t this bold or dominating.
“Y/n/n, what are you doing?” I asked in a panic as she spit on my cock, spreading it and the precum across my throbbing cock. “Shut up and drive Matthew” she said before taking my tip into her mouth. Unexpectedly, she deepthroated me causing my grip on the wheel to tighten and my breathing to pick up. Y/n started to hollow out her cheeks, creating a tight suction around my cock as she moved back up to suck on the head again. She started humming around my cock causing me to whimper as I tried to maintain focus on the road, which thankfully was empty.
“You like that, don’t you Matty” she asked in a seductive voice before going back to sucking me off, “Y-Yeah, but it’s- fuck- it’s hard to focus on the road when you’re doing that” I whined back. “B-But don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” I added as I was getting closer to cumming. Thankfully we had just stopped at another red light, I pushed her head all the way down on my cock, causing her to gag and holding it there while I came down her throat. “Shit— So good for me baby! Fuck, just like that!” I groaned loudly as she swirled her tongue around the tip before pulling off with a pop.
Y/n swallowed my cum before tucking my, now soft, dick back into my pants. “The lights green Matty” she laughed, pulling me out of my trance, “Huh? Oh shit” I said when I realized the was, in fact, now green. The rest of the way home, we sat in a comfortable silence and held hands on the center console. When we pulled up into the driveway, I got out and rushed to the other side to open Y/n’s door. What I didn’t expect was for her to take off my hat and grab me by the collar of my shirt before kissing me in the pouring rain.
As cheesy as it sounds, it was like a scene straight out of a movie, us standing there kissing while our hair and clothes got wet, stupidly smiling into the kiss. Unfortunately, unlike the movies, we got interrupted after like 3 or 4 minutes by none other than, you guessed it! Nicolas Sturniolo, “Can you guys stop fucking making out and come inside? It’s late, you were supposed to be back hours ago!” both me and Y/n let out a groan before walking inside. “Sorry dad, we got busy” Y/n joked, “I am NOT your father, this isn’t fucking Star Wars” Nick replied dramatically. As expected, we found Chris in our room on his phone.
“Out” is all I said while rolling my eyes, “And a hello to you too Matthew” he replied sarcastically, finally looking up at us. “Why are you wet?” he asked but Y/n just grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the door. “I’m cold and want to change, get out or I’ll suck Matt’s dick again in front of you” she said shoving him out. “Again!?” both my brothers questioned, “Yeah, again! Deadass had to fuck my girlfriend in the car on a mountain because you two fuckers don’t give us any privacy!” I yelled at them slamming and locking the door. Y/n just giggled, pulling me to our closet to get changed before we laid down. Finally getting to cuddle and have the rest of the day to ourselves without any annoying distractions.
#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplet smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#sturniolo triplets imagine#smut#sturniolo fanfic
631 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jeff Davis just ruined everything! Everything! Do you know if there's any fix-it fics yet!
AND
Anonymous asked:
Love your page! Can you recommend fix-it fics for the movie?
AND
angelofthetrenchcoats asked:
hii
do you know if there are any tw movie sterek fix it fics yet?
thanks❤️😂
“Take me back.” by Theo4thestars
(1/? I 979 I Not Rated I Sterek)
Stiles finds out Derek is dead. He’s hurt. He finds out Allison is alive. He’s never been more happy. He’s conflicted so he goes home.
we're all burning. by unholyturtle
(2/2 I 2,400 I Explicit I Sterek)
Stiles came home and Derek did not die.
Broken Things (It's Complicated) by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)
(1/1 I 3,880 I General I Sterek)
It's been fifteen years, and Derek still has feelings about that Jeep.
Crawling back to you by ads1008
(1/1 I 10,901 I General i Sterek)
Stiles gets a call from Eli that Derek has died. He runs home in time to be at the funeral where Eli barrels into him crying shaking like he is five years old again after a nightmare. Stiles holds him tight looking up at the pack he walked away from years ago. The ones that hurt him and his family too many times to count. His eyes landed on Scott, who looked sad and sorry. Stiles didn’t care for his pity. Rage boiled in him at just seeing his ex-best friend. The man that almost ruined everything for them 15 years ago but it looks like he already did. Stiles pulled Eli away, handing him off to his dad. Stiles walked over landing a hard punch to Scott’s temple.
“What did you do?” Stiles shouted.
Stiles knew he had to bring back the love of his life and the father of his son, with the help of Lydia and the rest of the gang. Stiles must fight one last demon of his own to bring Derek back. By doing so, secrets of the past fifteen years will be told. His young son, Eli, will know more about himself and his parents than either Stiles or Derek was ready to share.
We'll Take On The World by lookingforatardis
(1/1 I 26,000 I Mature I Sterek)
Derek grew quiet, eyes searching Stiles’ face. “It’s called True Mates.”
“Do you think we…” he started, but cut himself off. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer.
“Maybe,” Derek nodded anyway, eyes cast down. Their hands were intertwined on the bed where they sat, and Stiles traced Derek’s knuckles with his fingers.
“How would we know?”
Derek sighed and leaned over to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s always a sign."
No More Martyr Bullsh*&t by Arieanna
(12/12 I 35,230 I Mature I Sterek)
Thank god someone had the brains to call him. Now he was running through the preserve to that stupid stump, hoping that he gets there before it's too late and he loses his reason for living.
"X" marks the spot by mmspring
(3/3 I 39,796 I General I Sterek)
"Please, bring my nephew back"
Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again.
"Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".
Or
Stiles has to save the day once again, but he doesn't want the recognition for it.
Nothing Ever Stays Dead by Violet_Michelle
(22/22 I 79,189 I Mature I Sterek)
Following Derek’s death, Eli took the Jeep and went to find the only person he thought could get his dad back.
Yoda Said It Best by OKDeanna, thePurebloodPrat
(21/21 I 99,128 I Explicit I Sterek)
Derek Hale knows he as a problem. Contrary to what some might believe, he isn’t stupid. He knows the Jeep has meaning to him, real meaning. The kind of meaning that he doesn’t want to think about, let alone stop and have to analyze. Except… his son keeps pushing him about it, prodding at him, and then before Derek knows it, Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, driving the one thing in the world Derek wishes he never had to set eyes on again. If Derek isn’t careful, he could open himself up to a fall, and that would affect more than just his son but also his own traitorous heart. Because with Stiles back, Derek finally has hope again, and its making him want the things he knows better than to ever crave: a home, a future, a life—love.
One-Sentence Premise: To find the happiness they both crave, a lonely stressed-out single dad and a disillusioned FBI agent must confront their shared past and accept the feelings that have always existed between them.
274 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Repost from my abandoned account) these are just my personal head canons for dogday. this is a survivor au
(All characters are over 18 btw)
-dogday sometimes has dog like tendencies, like growling, barking etc.
-he doesn't remember a lot about his life as a worker but will share stories he remembers of his human life once you two become close.
-man is like a love sick puppy. First you save him? Give him legs? AND a home?! And his friends are here too?! You really are his angel.
-he's very protective of his angel. He can't have anyone take them away or even hurt them. Plus all those years locked away, he can't loose you, you're his hope.
-this man will most certainly plan his confession, script and all. Maybe you're away at work and this is something he's been working on for a while. He's always bringing you little gifts on his hunting trips (depending on if you like to collect rocks and such) but this dude went out of his way to find the best of the best. Even somehow found flowers beautiful enough to almost rival your beauty, keyword: almost.
-he enjoys spending time with you, poppy and kissy, he enjoys playing outside with you three, even if you guys have been out of the factory for years already. They still enjoy the outside world.
-I know bro is huge, like dude is taller than an American door way (according to some measurements fans have made, hes 9'5) if you're a shorty (like me 5 feet even😭) he will most definitely pick you up and carry you like a dogtoy. He likes the feeling of carrying his angel, it gives him a sense of pride doing so. Even if you accidentally hit the ceiling or he needs to really get down so you don't hit the top of the doorframe, he will always apologize or joke about it.
-he's a cuddler, he LOVES cuddling! He has his own giant dog bed in your shared room, but he prefers to sleep on your shared bed. If you're away from work and he's eepy, he'll pass out on your bed because it smells like you. Your scent keeps him at bay until you come home. Poor guy will shoot up and push anyone out of his way to be the first to get to you! He sits there on the floor waiting for his mandatory headpats and kisses as soon as he hears your keys.
-it takes his brain a few minutes to properly turn on. After all those years he finally gets proper sleep, I can imagine you waking up first and getting ready for the day to prepare breakfast for the group and you poke him, trying to wake him. He'll mumble some random stuff about not letting rats do taxes then fall back asleep only to be woken again by your pokes still talking nonsense. I can also see him sometimes waking up confused, you know like when you wake up your parents and they're mad for no reason asking what's wrong while gasping for air? (Just me?) I can see him being THAT dead asleep bhahsha
-my take on the survivor au is more of a modern take (as in yes the factory closed years also but reader is possibly in early to late 20s sometime in 20xx / non specified year) so they weren't an employee but probably knew someone like a family member who worked there or was dared to enter the factory (we'll see if I ever post my fanfic haha as these hcs kinda tie into that story) so dogday being alive in the 80s or 90s he probably has like the old school idea of love and attempts to swoon you as such. The flowers, cheesy pick up lines.
-I can imagine because he's not up to date with the newer terms and he might be confused while trying to seem cool haha. "Angel what does rizzler mean?" (Poor peepaw)
- Personally I love the theory that DogDay is an ex worker aka Rich. Which is probably why he was the leader of the smiling critters. Because he was mature enough to make sure everyone was in line/well behaved, I also think some other workers were turned into the mascots too (obviously) but maybe they trusted Rich more so they just threw him into the dance circle and hope that he'd be a good leader.
- this one ties into the first one btw! I like the think that maybe he was one of the mascots when he worked there. Like a guy in the costume who worked with the kids (hence the zipper, how else would the workers get into the bigger body suits?)
- I like to think DogDay likes when Angel calls him by his old human name. Maybe once he opens up more about his human life (or at least bringing up some of the memories he still has) he just randomly brings up his name when talking about a memory and hearing Angel repeat his name back, he'd probably like hearing it. It might make him feel like less of a monster in a sense. Granted I think he wouldn't care about what Angel calls him but he would most definitely prefer for them to alternate. Like you know when someone makes you mad and you use their real name instead of their nickname? He'd hate for his Angel to get mad, especially at him. But when living with 3 other people it can get a bit hectic.
"DogDay! Did you bring mud into the house?!"
"N-No!... "
*silence*
"RICH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
*footsteps are heard and DogDay bolts out the door*
- Now this head canon I have can go either one of two ways, right? Hear me out. Listen up, listen carefully, and listen closely. (Lmk if you got that reference) ok so back to the zipper! I think the zipper just opens to his organs tbh like the zipper was just left functional in case he needed to be "repaired internally". BUT another thought, I also can see there being some sort of barrier! You know those stuff animals who have their stuffing blocked by a barrier so it doesn't fall out but the zipper opens to a compartment where you can store items? I kinda think that's whats there tbh, I mean it makes sense. What if one of the kids opened the zipper by mistake? Surely there would be a barrier just in case.
- as I mentioned in the last hc post, I can see him trying to swoon Angel in the old romantic type of way. I can see him pinning after Angel hard, at first they wouldn't get the hint, they'd probably think he's thinks he's indebted to them for rescuing them and giving the 3 of them a better and new life. But quickly they realize bro is in love. Of course poppy teases him about it too at some point lol. He doesn't really try to hide it either. I can see poppy and kissy thinking it's sweet and first then they get annoyed once you're the only thing he talk about lol.
- You're married. That's all! No but I can see in his mind you two are basically married. He'd probably want to have new custom star collars made for both of you or maybe even a ring for you and a matching collar or something for him to wear and propose. Of course it will bother him a bit because he can't go out with you, take you on dates or show you off but he trusts you (even though he gets jealous when you smell like someone else) he basically tries his best with what you guys have (If only there was a holiday that came once a year where you guys could go out dressed in customs without looking like freaks).
- He looks like the type of guy who would love pasta. I'm not sure why or how this even came into mind but I just feel like that's what he often wants for dinner. Poppy would probably eat fruit for dinner, kissy isn't really picky, but Dogday would probably be asking for either pasta or meat. Also I think Angel would be hesitant to feed certain foods to Dogday because you know, he's a dog (not really but hear me out) but because he acts like one at times I could see Angel being like haha nope you can't eat this!
*Angel eating chocolate cookies*
"May I have some?" *cutely pouts*
"I don't want you dying, love."
"You know I'm not actually a dog...right?"
ok ok you got me there" (they just really didn't wanna share lol)
- tbh this is more of a general head canon for the toys but I seeing as they had to resort to c*nnibalism. They clearly need food and water to survive. I think catcap was probably keep Dogday alive as a "lol now look at you now, look at me" (yes that's a BP reference) moment but only feeds him when he felt like it, since food is basically scarce in that place. I think that their human organs were transferred over but little things like veins, teeth, tongue, blood vessels basically anything that's not a major organ was made artificially and connected in a sense to those major organs making them function as such.
Yeah that's kinda it lol, there might be some more parts to this if I can think of anything else! But yeahhh that's kinda my hc and rambles lol (I tend to ramble a lot especially when I have to give context, I apologize!)
103 notes
·
View notes
Note
A national boyfriend day fic with Gun & Goo? >///< (Separate if that's ok!)
Ever so slightly late. Just a touch! To all my other requests, sorry for some reason my brain wants to work backwards 🫠
Happy National Boyfriend Day! Goo Kim, Gun Park
Goo Kim
"No, why did you put that?" Goo whines and you erase your last couple words.
"Say I'm the best instead. Put that down." He scans over your caption, leaning closer to the screen with each passing second before reeling back and jabbing a particularly offensive part with his finger.
"There's a typo there cupcake!" You quickly correct it. "And are you using that picture? That suit was last season. Here, let me send you a better photo of me."
Goo starts to tap away on his own phone. You hear the tell tale ping of a message sent, and he slings a smarmy grin your way too.
With a sigh, you change the picture and redo the entire caption so it finally, finally passes his royal highness's scrutiny.
It's live. Thank fuck for that-
"Sweetheart~" Goo sings songs, elongating the vowels and you feel a headache come on, "Did you get me a present too?"
You want to snap of fucking course you did. He's been dropping hints for the last couple of months. Getting more obvious with each passing day, until he just came right out and demanded the specific item.
Which you would have gotten for him of your own accord, but this fool has no patience and no subtlety.
Thinking of the packaged box in tasteful gold wrapping, well tasteful by Goo Kim's standard anyway, you point wordlessly to the walk-in closet and he scampers off with glee.
You suppose you can't complain, after all it is his credit card you used.
.
.
Gun Park
"Happy National Boyfriend Day," you say somewhat shy, handing over an envelope.
Neither of you are big on celebrating these silly little made up holidays. Actual birthdays, anniversaries you are both more attentive to.
At least you are, then Gun took your lead after the first time he missed a particular occasion of something or another and you didn't speak to him for days.
He has learned his lesson since.
It didn't take much to make you happy, anyhow. And each time he remembered a date, your eyes lit up - that was even before giving you a gift and taking you out. So how could he deny you such simple pleasures?
"Thanks," he responds, a little stiff and taking the item from your hands. Because he definitely doesn't care for National Boyfriend's Day and thought you didn't either.
"Open it," you encourage with an excited smile, and he follows your instructions obediently.
Inside the envelope is a card. Printed on high quality cardstock. Dark and matte and heavy, with a simple heart design on the front.
"You can read it!"
And Gun does.
He's never been one to be affected, positively or negatively, by media. By prose or poems or songs. Words are frivolous, especially for a man who lives by action and violence.
But as he reads over your tidy, neat writing. Recalling your favourite memories together, your love for him, the future you see together.
Gun can't help but be touched.
Feel his eyes soften and a small smile tug at his lips. Want to pull you into his arms and hold you and cradle you like you're the most precious thing in his world.
"Thank you," He tells you again, and this time he means it.
#lookism#lookism x reader#lookism fic#gun park#gun park x reader#park jonggun x reader#goo kim#goo kim x reader#kim joongoo x reader#wannaeatramyeon
243 notes
·
View notes
Text
hot cocoa kisses
changbin x m!reader
hihi merry crimmis !! wasn't gonna do a fic but then decided eh whattahell why not. much like the halloween fic i'm writing this absolutely last minute so uhhhh sorry in advance if there are any errors ^^; (this is being posted so late i'm so sorry)
feedback + pointing out errors are both greatly appreciated :]
wc; 4.8k (christ-)
christmas has always been an odd time of year for you. between strange and strained family relationships and your own mental health issues, family gatherings felt like walking over a minefield.
you groan and roll over, shoving your face into your pillows. you don't want to see any of your relatives this year, but you sure as hell don't want to deal with their attitudes if you skip either.
there's shuffling on the other side of the room and you lift your head just in time to see your roommate flick on the light by his bed.
"you good man?"
there's genuine concern in his voice, and you laugh quietly, "right now? mostly. after i see my family? absolutely not."
he frowns, sitting up properly, and you sit up as well, facing him across the room.
"wanna come with me then? my family's been on my ass about bringing someone over, and they're....." he grimaces slightly, "sometimes a lot, but they mean well."
"so how fake boyfriend am i expected to be?" you grin, always up for teasing him.
he rolls his eyes slightly, "or you could be my roommate?"
"well that's no fun."
the comment gets you a pillow to the face, sending you into a fit of giggles.
"yeah yeah, you're a comedic genius, do you wanna come with or not?"
after taking a moment to catch your breath, you nod, "sounds fun."
"i don't know about fun, but sure, whatever you say."
you hum quietly, "should i get gifts for people?"
changbin shrugs, "i usually just bring some kind of sweets for people to share, my family doesn't do individual gifts very much. since not all of us would be able to afford things for everyone."
"oh, that makes sense. we could make hot chocolate bombs though."
"make what nows?"
you laugh, "hot chocolate bombs, they're chocolate shells filled with hot cocoa powder and things like peppermint bits or mini marshmallows, so when you drop it in warm milk the shell melts and boom! hot chocolate."
"those sound good, we can get the stuff to make 'em later, when it's a reasonable hour to be awake."
you yawn, nodding, and flop back down onto your bed. changbin laughs and flicks off the light again, also lying back down and closing his eyes.
winter sun cuts through the window, the curtains making a futile attempt to filter out the harsh glare. you grumble and pull your blankets over your head, only for changbin to pull them back off of you a moment later.
you glare up at him and he grins, "c'mon, you still wanna make hot chocolate bombs?"
sitting up, you flip him off and rub your eyes, not particularly keen on being conscious at the moment, but also knowing you probably won't be able to fall asleep again.
"yeah yeah, only if we can get coffee on the way back from the store though."
"whatever you want, sweetheart."
you flip him off again and he laughs loudly, too loudly for your half-asleep liking.
"okay get out so i can get dressed."
"aw, don't wanna change in front of your boyfriend?"
you're confused for a second, but remember the conversation you'd had earlier, "......i regret everything i've ever said."
"well that's a bit rude."
"oh my god leave-" you grab a pillow and smack him with it, making him laugh.
"okay okay! i'm leaving!"
you grumble a bit as you get out of bed and stretch, feeling your brain fill with static for a moment as your body gets used to being active again.
shuffling to your dresser you grab a pair of jeans and hoodie, getting dressed quickly before putting on socks and shoving your phone, keys, and wallet into your pockets.
going out to the main area of the apartment, you hear movement in the kitchen and stick your head around the corner to see changbin going through the cupboards, a container of hot cocoa powder already sitting on the counter.
"ready?"
changbin turns to look at you and nods, shutting the cupboard he'd been rummaging in and grabbing a hoodie from where he'd dropped it over the arm of the couch the last time he'd come back home. you tug on a pair of worn combat boots, changbin putting on his own, slightly less beat up, pair.
walking towards the elevators, you chat about what his family is like and what yours is like as well, telling stories about other christmases and your favorite things about the holiday season.
it doesn't take long to reach the grocery store a few blocks from your apartment building, storefronts are decorated with lights and ornaments, but the streets are all but empty. it's the day before christmas eve, and most people have already left to visit their loved ones.
the store speakers are playing tinny christmas carols, and you sing along as you go through the aisles, changbin occasionally teasing you for it. you know it's all in good fun, and anytime he makes fun of you, you sing a bit louder.
you're arguing as you go through the checkout line, neither one of you willing to let the other pay. changbin says he should because it's for his family, you counter that it was your idea, so you should pay.
the cashier smiles as you reach the register, "you two are a cute couple."
changbin's ears go red, and you can feel yourself turning almost the same color as the cashier's santa hat. the cashier seems to notice her misstep, but doesn't correct herself. you're not sure if you love or hate her for that.
"we're not a couple," you finally respond, scratching the back of your neck.
"oh, that's a shame." she continues calmly ringing up your items, but you catch the glint in her eye. it takes genuine effort to stop yourself from laughing and she smiles, winking as you hand her your card, changbin too distracted to notice until you've already paid.
when you return to your apartment, you start getting the things you need out of the shopping bags.
"hey, can you fill a pot with water? i'm gonna use it for a double-boiler."
changbin looks lost as to what you're on about, but nonetheless he fills a small pot with water and sets it on the stovetop. grabbing a bag of chocolate chips, you walk over to the stove and grab a metal bowl from one of the cupboards, carefully setting it so that it's suspended within the larger pot.
"while i melt chocolate can you start measuring things? the molds are probably big enough for a tablespoon or two of cocoa powder, doesn't have to be particularly exact, just as long as it doesn't spill over the edges."
changbin nods, "how many are we making?"
".....that's a great question. we probably have enough for at least a dozen? we can probably just make them until we run out of ingredients, it's not like they'll go bad."
"should we do half with the mini marshmallows and then the other marshmallow ones with the cocoa mix that has them in it? because they might not go bad, but the marshmallows will get stale eventually."
"good point, we can bring the ones with fresh marshmallows and keep the ones with the marshmallows mix?"
"works for me."
you hear the water starting to bubble, and you pour the bag of chocolate chips into the bowl, carefully stirring them as they begin to melt. grabbing the half mold on the counter next to you, you spray a thin layer of cooking oil onto it, using a paper towel to even out the coating.
glancing back to the stove, you quickly stir the chocolate again, sighing in relief when none of it looks burnt. pouring in the rest of the chocolate chips, you continue stirring it to make sure it's evenly heated.
as you're worrying over the chocolate, you hear the bluetooth speaker in the kitchen turn on, a playlist you made with changbin at 2am filling the space. you start dancing slightly as you work, changbin humming along to the music.
"okay, chocolate's melted, now for the hard part-" you turn down the heat on the stove, continuing to stir the chocolate as it cools and thickens slightly.
"can you grab a baking pan and put it on the island? i gotta pour the chocolate and i don't need the landlord after my ass."
changbin laughs, the sounds of metal clanking mixing into the noise of the room as he places a metal pan onto the countertop, laughing and joking as he follows your instructions on how to fill the molds and empty the excess, it takes a couple tries but the molds are eventually covered properly and you put them in the freezer in order to set the chocolate quickly.
grabbing one of the bottles of coffee you'd compromised on at the grocery store, you pop off the lid and take a long drink, sighing happily.
"ah, caffeine my beloved."
changbin sits on the counter across from the one you're leaning against, swinging his legs slightly.
"you said we're leaving tomorrow, and then coming back the 26th?"
"yeah, so we'll be spending two nights."
"are we gonna end up with the only one bed?"
"like we haven't slept in the same bed before, mr. i'm sad so you're obligated to cuddle me."
"hey," you point at him, "that was once."
he laughs, "it was not!"
you stick your tongue out at him, but don't actually argue because he's right, and you don't feel like losing an argument this early in the day. instead, you go to the freezer to see if the chocolate is set.
"ok, molds are good, i gotta get them out, can you grab the hot cocoa?"
"roger."
putting the two trays of molds on the island, you carefully flex the plastic in order to loosen the shells so they won't break when you try to take them out. soon there are about two dozen bowl-shaped chocolate shells scattered across the counter in front of you.
changbin thunks the container of cocoa mix onto the counter, "okay master chef, what now?"
trying to show changbin how to put the hot chocolate bombs together is a bit hectic, but it's fun, and by the time you're done you're both covered in hot cocoa mix and out of breath from laughing.
the rest of the day is spent packing and getting ready for your trip, it took a lot longer than it probably should've because you kept annoying each other and getting sidetracked. eventually you're done, and collapse on the couch to watch movies.
you stir as the sun is starting to rise, unsure of what woke you up. a second later there's an ache in your back and you wince.
well, i guess that's why i woke up.
deciding to grab a painkiller, you go to stand up when you realize someone's arms are wrapped around your waist. looking up, you see changbin still asleep, hair messy and cheeks puffed out slightly.
on an impulse you reach up and tap his nose, causing it to scrunch up. a moment later, his eyelids flutter. you're too busy staring to worry about being caught staring, but you still blush when he smiles sleepily at you.
"mornin'," his voice is raspy and still muffled by sleep, which is not good for your sanity.
"mmh, good morning," you smile back, "mind letting go of me?"
he just pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair.
"very much so."
his response makes you laugh, "i don't know what i was expecting."
managing to free an arm, you grab your phone off the coffee table and check the time.
10:43, we should probably get up.
"c'mon, it's almost eleven. if we don't get up soon we won't make it on time."
changbin grumbles but his grip on you loosens and you're finally able to stand up. stretching, you hear your spine pop a concerning amount and you groan, making a beeline for the painkillers in the kitchen.
opening your messages app you go to the thread with your best friend, sending may your next ibuprofen take effect quickly and noticeably, before going into your room to grab a change of clothes.
setting the clothes on the counter in the bathroom, you turn on the shower, giving the water a moment to warm up. as you wait you flick through your playlists, choosing one at random and putting it on shuffle.
you shower quickly, singing along to the music playing on your phone. much as you'd like to stay under the warm water, you know you need to get your shit together if you want to be able to leave by noon.
stepping out of the shower, you quickly dry off and put on the clean clothes, deciding to just let your hair air dry. returning to your room you chuck your old clothes into the laundry basket next to your dresser and put your phone on the charger while you wait to leave.
in the meantime, you grab the messenger bag hanging off the frame of your bed and start filling it with the things you hadn't packed the night before, mostly just your laptop and things for your classes.
changbin comes in a moment later, also shoving a few things into his backpack.
"hey, y/n," you glance over to see him holding up the switch that'd been charging in the living room, and give him a thumbs-up. he nods and adds it to the things in his bag.
"i think we're good?" you puff out your cheeks, trying to remember if you need anything else.
changbin zips the bag sitting next to him, "we should get going soon."
"we packed the hot chocolate bombs already, right?"
"they were one of the first things that got packed, don't worry."
you roll you eyes slightly, "yeah because telling someone not to worry always works."
"c'mon, let's go before you worry yourself to death," changbin takes your hand, pulling you to your feet.
"i'd be impressed if i managed to worry myself all the way to death, that seems more like something chan would do."
"and it'd be entirely jisung's fault."
you snort and grab your suitcase, well aware of the headaches jisung gave chan.
"at least it wouldn't be us, which should count as a miracle."
while you and changbin tried not to stress chan out, you both had rather unfortunate luck and he'd had to manage at least three er visits for each of you.
stepping into the hallway, you check that the door is locked three times before changbin grabs your arm and drags you towards the elevator bank. the elevator cars creak and rattle, and you think that if a fourth er visit comes up it'll be from the aging elevators. you're amazed that they're still running at all.
your apartment building is close enough to the train station that you figure getting a taxi wouldn't be worth it, so the two of you walk, talking mostly about family things.
"i'm not sure if my family's gonna give me a ton of shit for skipping, or if they're gonna be glad i didn't show."
changbin laughs, "well my family's definitely gonna be excited to meet you, not sure if that'll make up for things but, y'know." he punctuates his statement with a shrug, and you laugh.
one slightly chaotic journey through the train station later, you're both in your seats. before long, you're starting to doze off, soothed by the gentle movement of the train.
you wake up again as the train stops, the lack of movement and general chaos of reaching the station dragging you out of your rest. there's a crick in your neck, and you can feel something on the side of your head. stretching slightly, you realize that your head is on changbin's shoulder, and his head is now leaning on yours.
carefully you shove changbin away from you, shaking him slightly. he stretches, and you barely avoid getting smacked.
"wake up before we end up going to the next station," you stand, dragging changbin to his feet. you sling your bag over your shoulder and grab your suitcase, changbin following suit.
getting off the train is easier said than done, the rush of holiday traffic that made navigating the station so chaotic makes navigating the train even harder, but you make it off soon enough.
once you're off the train and out of the station, changbin hails a taxi and you pile in, changbin giving the address to your driver. it's not a long drive, and you're both still waking up, so it's relatively quiet.
however, any calm or quiet is broken the second you step through the door of the house. changbin wasn't lying when he said his family was a lot, but their excitement makes you feel warm in a way your family never did.
after a solid ten seconds of nearly suffocating changbin in a hug, his mom looks up and sees you standing near the door, and somehow smiles even wider than she had been.
a heartbeat later and now you're the one being suffocated, and you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. you still manage to hug her back, and she steps away a moment later, giving you a once-over.
"so, you're changbin's boyfriend?"
"mom," changbin's tone confirms that he expected this line of questioning, and you almost laugh, "he's my roommate."
from further down the hall you hear a soft, "oh my god they were roommates?" and look up to see a younger teen sticking their head around a corner. changbin notices them as well, but you grab his arm before he can do anything.
"no murder," you glare at him halfheartedly and he grumbles.
"i wasn't gonna kill them."
"no aggravated assault either."
he rolls his eyes and his mom laughs, gesturing for you to follow her. you elbow changbin and he seems to snap back to reality, following you as you follow his mom. she shows the two of you to a guest room, turning to make sure you're both behind her.
"i can grab a mattress and some bedding from the hall closet in a minute, feel free to settle in in the meantime."
you smile and thank her, and she gives you both a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
collapsing facedown onto the bed you feel yourself deflate, the mattress next to you sinking a moment later as changbin sits down as well.
"so, thoughts so far?"
you turn your head, rolling all the way onto your back a moment later, "i might end up crying before we leave just fyi."
"that bad?" changbin asks, but you can tell he doesn't think that's the reason.
"no it's just, family acting like family is so foreign to me. not to mention treating me like family even when i'm not."
you get a gentle smack on the side of your head, changbin grinning slightly, "hey, as long as we're friends you're family as far as anyone here is concerned. honestly my mom would probably replace me with you if we ever had a falling out."
you shove yourself into a sitting position, shaking your head slightly, "don't even joke about that."
"what, my mom replacing me?"
"no, about us having a falling out. you don't need to speak that into existence, thank you very much."
he laughs, "aw, you think i'm special?"
"ugh forget i said anything," you roll your eyes, "you're the worst, get outta here."
instead, changbin wraps his arms around your torso, dragging you both down onto the bed. "it's way too late to get rid of me, sorry pal."
you wiggle around in an attempt to lie down more comfortably. "yeah yeah, now let me move, i can already feel my arm starting to cramp."
he loosens his hold and you can finally roll over so you're facing eachother, poking the tip of his nose when you do. he scrunches it up and you laugh, "you look like a bunny."
"you're probably the only person who's ever thought to call me that," he grins.
"it's not like you have many other close friends mr. antisocial."
"we have the same friends!"
"okay listen here-"
"i'm listening."
you pause, not actually having had something to say. changbin seems to notice and he laughs, and you roll your eyes in an attempt to ignore your blush.
it seems like he's about to say something, but he's interrupted by a yawn, making you yawn as well.
"we've both been sleeping almost all day, how are we still tired."
you shrug and curl further into changbin, feeling the blankets drop over you a moment later.
waking up you can hear people talking quietly, and try to figure out what's being said. changbin is still next to you, but he's sitting up now and there's a soft light filtering into the room from the hall.
"you sure seem cozy for someone who was all indignant about just being roommates," you recognize the voice of changbin's mom and smile slightly.
"look i don't wanna push things," changbin sounds tired, but emotionally instead of physically, "i'd rather have him in my life as a friend than not at all."
"have you considered that he might feel the same? and even if he doesn't, i really don't think he'd cut you off over it. you should have more faith in him kiddo."
you suddenly feel like you've done something wrong, a strange sense of guilt flooding over you. trying to ignore the feeling, you stir slightly, acting like you're just now waking up. both voices cut off, and you hear changbin's mom sigh slightly.
"tell him dinner is ready when he wakes up, okay?"
a moment later you hear the door to your room close again, and you rub your eyes.
"mm, what time is it?"
changbin glances at his phone, "it's almost nine, mom says dinner's ready. i think everyone else is either asleep or at least in bed so it'll probably just be us two."
you push yourself up onto an elbow, still abnormally tired, "how romantic."
you feel changbin flick your forehead and you snort, sitting up all the way.
"let's go eat then, could we make hot chocolate after?"
"sure, c'mon," changbin takes your hand and pulls you to your feet again. guess this is becoming a habit, you think, glancing at your joined hands.
stepping into the hall you realize changbin was right about it just being the two of you, the house is almost dead silent. there's still food on the stove, and you smile.
changbin makes a plate for you and one for himself, putting them on the kitchen island. you sit on one of the stools at the island, still not fully awake.
"drink?"
you smile, "just water please."
a moment later changbin sets a glass of water in front of you, putting one by to his own plate as well before sitting on the stool to your side. you talk quietly as you eat, trying not to disturb anyone else in the house.
when you're both done eating changbin takes your dishes and puts them in the sink, "okay, hot cocoa?"
"mhm! can you warm up the milk without it getting a skin or should i be in charge of that?"
"i usually use water for hot cocoa so i think that answers your question."
you snort, "okay, can you grab a saucepan and milk please?"
"yup," changbin gives a thumbs-up and you laugh slightly, grabbing one of the wooden spoons from the utensils near the stove.
after heating the milk for a few minutes you glance up again, "can you grab a couple mugs? and did either of us ever get the hot cocoa bombs out."
"i got 'em out, they should be on top of the fridge, one sec," changbin sets two mugs on the counter, the box of hot chocolate bombs following soon after.
you carefully pour the milk into the mugs, placing the pan in the sink when you're done. grabbing a hot chocolate bomb you hold it up, changbin grabbing one as well.
"cheers!" you tap the hot chocolate bombs together and laugh before you both drop them into the milk. the result is almost immediate, the chocolate shell melting quickly, the hot cocoa bomb rolling around like a bathbomb would.
after watching the hot chocolate bomb melt for a moment you notice changbin in your peripheral, holding a spoon in your direction. you take it and smile at him, stirring the contents of the mug in front of you, the milk going from an off-white to a rich chocolate brown.
when you're satisfied with the level of mixing, you hold up your mug.
"cheers again," changbin says as he clinks the mugs together and you smile, taking a drink.
"man i fucking love hot chocolate, it's literally the best winter drink."
changbin laughs, "y'know what, i gotta agree with you on that one."
a day and a half spent in the whirlwind of changbin's family and their holiday cheer doesn't let you forget about the conversation you'd overheard, and you decide to ask about it when you're back in your apartment.
but saying you'll do something and doing something are two different things, and the night you get back, you spend an agonizingly long few minutes at 2am wondering if you should just ignore it.
groaning into your pillow, you feel a distinct sense of deja vu as changbin flicks on his light.
"you alright?"
you groan again, becoming more and more conflicted.
"...hot cocoa?"
that gets you to prop yourself up and look in changbin's direction, tilting your head slightly.
he shrugs, "you seem upset and i figured if you didn't wanna talk you might want hot cocoa."
"i love you."
your mouth moves before your brain, catching you both off guard, and you can feel your face start to burn. there's not much light in the room, but you can see changbin blushing too. you want to backtrack, but you realize it's not untrue, and decide it'd do more harm than good.
instead, you stand up and cross the room, sitting next to him and putting your head on his shoulder. the movement snaps him out of the frozen state he'd been in, and you feel him wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
the silence is in a strange limbo between comfortable and awkward, and you don't know if you want to break it because you're not sure what he'll say.
eventually, you decide to bite the bullet, "you don't have to say it, we can just make hot cocoa."
you feel changbin rest his head on yours, and you smile slightly. you wouldn't mind getting used to this, you think.
"if i say it can we still make hot chocolate? or is this an either or situation," he huffs a laugh at the end of his question, and you gently elbow him.
"we can make hot chocolate either way, you dork."
"well i was gonna say it but now i'm reconsidering."
you gasp dramatically and he laughs, pulling you closer again.
"i'm kidding, i'm kidding. don't worry, i love you too."
"you're an ass, you know that?"
changbin hums, pretending to think, "yeah, that might've been mentioned to me before."
"i rescind the hot cocoa offer, i'm going back to bed, goodnight," you try to stand, but changbin wraps his other arm around you as well, pulling you back down.
"nooo, stayyy."
you lean into him, laughing. you feel him bury his face in your hair and laugh harder.
"c'mon, you made me want hot cocoa," you try to stand again, but this time changbin lets you, following you into the kitchen.
you're both quiet while you make the drinks, but this time the silence is firmly within the realm of comfortable, broken only by humming or the sound of metal clinking.
when you both have your hot cocoa in hand, you return to your room, sitting next to each other on changbin's bed once again. you're about halfway done with your hot cocoa when you feel your eyelids starting to get heavy again, and you finish the drink rather quickly, putting your mug on the small table next to the bed. changbin finishes his hot cocoa not long after you, putting his mug on the table as well.
"hey," you look at him and he turns, tilting his head to the side. you smile and lean over, giving him a soft peck. you're both still for a moment before he leans over, reconnecting your lips.
you move your hands up, threading your fingers through his hair. his hands land on your waist, and you can feel him smile.
the kiss tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows, you think it's the sweetest thing you'll ever taste.
#boyfiend writes#stray kids#skz#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x reader#changbin#seo changbin#seo changbin x y/n#seo changbin x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x male reader#changbin fluff#changbin x reader
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reminder [Tim Rockford x f!reader]
Read on Ao3
Rating: Explicit
Fandom: Merge Mansion ad (can't fucking believe this...)
Pairing: Detective Tim Rockford x you/cishet f!reader
Tags/Warnings: reader wears sexy lingerie but no description of body type, blowjob, deepthroating, workplace sex.
Summary: Tim Rockford works too hard, and too late. You have to remind him of what's waiting for him at home.
Words: 2,165
A/N: Y'all I am adding a new character to my menagerie of Pascal men! Dunno if I get Tim Rockford but I've been thinking about sucking his dick since I first saw him. He just has that vibe about him. Enjoy.
He is sitting astride a chair in front of a huge notice board filled with photos, notes, clippings, clues pinned to it, connected by red twine. The white shirt is straining to reach across his broad upper body. You remember a time when it had the shape of a V, now it's more of a U before connecting with the still narrow hips and flat ass.
You nod a thanks to the officer who let you in, and when he closes the door behind him, you lock it.
"Detective," you quip teasingly, but there's no response except a neck roll. He sighs deeply as he rubs his neck.
He's been working around the clock on this case. You avoid looking at the notice board, the pictures of bloody crime scenes, as you walk up to the chair.
"Tim," you speak softly, your hand landing on his shoulder. Tim twitches and looks up at you. It takes him a moment to recalibrate his brain to reality.
"What are you doing here? It must be like ten o'clock."
"It's past midnight, actually," you correct him with a wry little smile. He sighs again and takes your hand away from his shoulder, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
"I'm sorry, my love, I'm gonna pull an all-nighter again."
You grunt. He knows what it means. You've been over this before.
He rises from the chair, moves it away before turning to you. He smells of stress and determination: smells that you know well. He's always like this when he's working a case. You don't like it, but you've grown to accept it.
He pulls you in for a hug, so fast that you almost stumble into him. His broad chest, the soft stomach with the buttons ready to pop. He refuses to go up a size for some reason. The shoulder holster, the gun at his side. Your hand slides away from it, not wanting anything to do with it, only wanting your soft man.
"I'll come home in the morning for a shower," he promises in a low whisper against your hair. "Have breakfast with you."
"No, you won't," you calmly point out. "You'll get terrible coffee and a bagel from the diner around the corner, and your stomach will be a mess by the time this case is solved."
Tim chuckles a little at that before seeking out your lips. He tastes of stale coffee, and sweet and sour pork; the flavors of a murder case unsolved.
"Go home, get some sleep," he tells you gently. "I'll call when I leave."
"Aren't you wondering what I'm doing here, at this hour?"
He blinks, like he's only now realizing what time it is, and that you're actually here.
"Is everything okay?" His hands come to your cheeks, and he searches your face. You cover his hands with yours, lowering them as you smile reassuringly.
"I'm good, Tim, nothing's wrong. But I knew you'd be working all night, and I wanted to bring you something."
His brows draw together when he waits for you to elaborate. You untie the belt around your waist, and button open your trench coat. His nostrils flare and his eyes widen when you reveal yourself to him.
You're only wearing a bra, lace panties, and stockings underneath. It's cheesy, but he likes it.
"I came to make sure you were okay," you purr, smiling at how he swallows hard, his glassy stare.
"Baby..."
"Just let me give this to you."
You undo his belt, knuckles brushing against the soft fat of his tummy. Tim exhales in a low sigh when the belt releases its hold of him. With heavy-lidded eyes, he gazes adoringly at you as you unzip his pants. Softly, he trails his hands along your sides, goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch. Your nipples knit, and his gaze drop to the stiff pebbles showing through the lace fabric of the bra.
"You're too good to me, baby," he sighs, and then his eyes fall shut as you slide your hand inside his pants. "Oh."
You cup his still soft cock through the underwear, stroke in carefully as you lean in to kiss him. His lips betray a hurry that's he's loath to rein in, but when his tongue tries to pry in between your lips, you pull away with a smile. Tim doesn't smile back, but stares at you with a drunkenness in his eyes, mouth open and begging to be kissed again. You lean back in and nibble at his full lower lip, cup his cheek with your free hand, and stroke your thumb over his mustache. His cock hardens against your other palm, and you encourage it with a firmer touch.
"Tease," he groans, hands landing on your hips, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. A shiver runs through you.
"Takes one to know one."
You press your lips to his anew, and now your hand slips in under the worn elastic of the waistband. His cock jumps at the direct contact and your feel a patch of wet rub off on your hand. Your fingers close loosely around his cock, thumb smearing out the precum as your tongue plunges into his mouth for a hungry kiss. Tim's strong arms wrap around you, the smell of his sweaty pits hitting your nose but not in a repulsive way, instead you feel the crotch of your panties get wet, and your kiss turns more insistent. You suck his lower lip between your teeth, pull it out, and release it with a pop. Still holding his cock, you step back, pulling him gently but firmly to make him follow you. And Tim follows, hands reaching all over you, eyes burning with desire, lips swollen with kisses. You direct him to his desk and pull down his pants and underwear before giving him a little push to make him sit down. His cock is now as stiff as it can be, and you separate his legs, keeping eye contact as you kneel between his thighs.
"Oh, baby..." he sighs, surrendering to you with a pleading look on his face. "Baby, you're so good to me..."
"You deserve it," you purr as you nuzzle his cock, kissing its length, flicking your tongue at it. "You work so hard, you deserve to relax a little."
He moans again when you hand closes around the thick root of his cock. You trail your tongue up his length, ending with a soft swirl around the head, the glistening precum bringing a sharp taste to your mouth.
A few night shift officers pass by the door, but apart from that you can only hear the drone of the air conditioning, and Tim's heavy breathing which turns into an audible gasp bordering on a moan when you open your mouth and take his cock into your mouth. He breathes your name, looks down on you as you smile up at him, his cock in your mouth, one of your hands wrapped around the root, the other cupping his balls. He draws his fingers through his hair before dropping both hands to your head, petting it softly as you pop his cock out of your mouth and proceed to licking and stroking it. The low lights are casting shadows over Tim's face, but you can see his eyes, half closed and staring down at you in complete surrender. You squeeze the root of his balls firmly and are rewarded with a sharp hiss as Tim draws in breath.
"Sweet baby..."
Your cunt is heavy and warm, and your arousal starts to drip into your panties. The mossy, heavy scent rises to tickle your nose through the musk of your man, and you moan low as you suck the head of his cock before flicking your tongue at the frenulum.
"Fuck, oh God..."
Second that. You enjoy sucking his dick, always have. The different textures, the scent, the way it makes him twitch and curse and finally beg you. The sloppiness of it when you drool, the rush of adrenaline when you manage to take all of him, the tip bumping down your throat, Tim losing it when you massage his balls while letting him fuck your throat.
You draw a deep breath and swallow all of him, balls deep. Your lips shielding your teeth from grazing him, you immediately start to salivate, the pressure against your throat almost too much. You will yourself to calm down, to breathe through your nose as you know you can, and start to fuck him with your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, and when you look up Tim, he brings a trembling hand to wipe away the first one that falls. You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock, and lean into his palm cupping your cheek.
"Don't hurt yourself, sweetness," he mumbles hoarsely. "You're doing so good."
"I can do it," you promise him.
"I know you can."
You devour him again, tongue pressing flat against the veiny underside of his cock, your eyes falling shut as you focus on the act, on breathing, on controlling your gag reflex. Tim's breaths come in choked groans above you, his fingers tangle into your hair, petting and gently pulling while he showers you with gratitude and praise. The cold linoleum floor is hard on your knees, but you don't let that hold you back as you do your best to blow Tim’s mind. The taste of cum grows stronger, and you press your fingers against his taint while still fondling his balls. That's his undoing: his balls twitch and you feel the length of his cock pulsate as he shoots his cum down your throat. You almost choke, so you pull back, coughing as the last of his cum splatters your chin and chest. He crouches in front of you, wobbles like his legs don't carry him, panting like he just ran a marathon, but still searches your face as you fight to find your breath through the coughing.
"I'm good, I'm good," you wheeze, but Tim doesn't stop his scrutiny of you until you've found your breath.
"Okay?"
"Okay," you nod, smiling breathlessly. He smiles back then, and heaves a big sigh.
"Goddammit, woman..."
"What?" You bat your eyelashes innocently.
"Look at the state of you. A pornographic mess."
He wipes his thumb over your slick chin and closes his eye with a deep exhale when you grab his hand and bring the thumb to your mouth, sucking hard.
"You'll be the death of me."
"What a way to go, huh?"
His chestnut eyes are warm when he opens them anew.
"I'd prefer to live for as long as I can, as long as you're in my life."
"I'm here," you reassure him, your hand coming up to his cheek, which has not seen a razor in days. He leans in for a kiss, licks at your lips and into your mouth where you share his taste with him.
He finally helps you up and tuck himself in before grabbing a couple of tissues for you from his desk. You wipe yourself clean, but when you're about to wrap the coat around you again, Tim stops you.
"What about you?" His eyes are like molten chocolate when he slides his hand inside your coat and brings you snug against him.
"What about me?"
"You're so wet I can see it through your trench coat, honey."
You chuckle. You should have known.
"Sweetheart," you tell him, languidly wrapping your arms around his neck. "If you wish to pleasure me, you have to come home."
"Oh, so only you can do dirty things to me in my place of work?" he grins, hands sliding down to your ass cheeks, barely covered by the lace.
"That's right, detective." You kiss the tip of his nose. "Gotta have something to bring you home."
"I do have that," he replies softly, touching his lips to your forehead. "I'll come home in the morning, I promise."
Before you can answer, there is a hard bang on the door, followed by a call:
"Rockford, we brought in your suspect!"
His countenance changes: his eyes turn sharp, his lips austere, his shoulders squared. He is no longer your Tim; now he's Detective Rockford.
"I'm sorry, I gotta go - "
" - and you won't be home for breakfast," you finish his sentence with a practical shrug as you straighten out his tie for him. "I know. Go do your thing."
He dips his face down to kiss you.
"I'll be home," he renews his promise. "And I'll bring bread rolls from that place you like."
You smile against his lips, his warmth spreading through your body, your cunt bottoming out at the thought of a slow morning with him.
"I'll hold you to that, Tim."
He brushes his lips over your cheek, his breath warm when he whispers:
"Keep that underwear on."
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Because of you.
Dh!master x fem reader
Warnings: doctor is mean
Synopsis: the doctor has seemingly abandoned you even if you're right there with her.
My back ached as i leant awkwardly against a tree. Not just a normal tree either. Seeing as we were on an alien planet, this tree had green wood and leaves the were an ombre of gold and purple. As well as that, the wood itself seemed to be more solid and dense. For some reason, the doctor had stranded us here, saying she'd be back in an hour but, of course, her time management was awful.
"Dont think too hard, your brain might explode." A voice came from behind me, causing me to roll my eyes. As of late, the doctor had decided she needed to keep a closer eye on her best enemy. So here I was, stuck on an unknown planet with the master. An icy wind blew over, making me loose my train of thought.
"Ignoring me now? That's not very nice." Sighing, I looked over to him and crossed my arms. The male was stood a few feet away, coat long since abandoned on the tardis and sleeve rolled down for once. Probably due to the atmosphere. It was absolutely freezing. Though, we were alone here so I couldn't be too hard on the timelord. It wasn't his fault after all. Turning to him fully, I gave a close-lipped smile.
"Sorry, I was distracted." I said, rubbing my hands together subtly. He hummed, walking over and taking his place next to me.
"So, have you ever been here before?" Deciding to make conversation to pass the time, I asked him the simple question with genuine interest.
"No, actually. I'm pretty sure this was an orphan planet at one point." The master told me, looking around at the scenery. Brown grass was frosted but healthy and many plants could be seen.
"Doesn't look dead to me." Pursung his lips, the taller male nod and inched closer, though i didn't notice.
"Well, a fleet of silurians found it and brought it back to life." That made sense, seeing as they were big on all things nature. A shiver rippled through my body and I quickly zipped up my hoodie. If only the doctor let us prepare for this. She had other things, meaning other people, on her mind.
"Your cheeks are red." Feeling embarrassed, I glanced at the master, eyebrows furrowed.
"That's what happens when humans get cold." Again, he nod.
"Its cute. Us timelords, we don't work like that." Ignoring the second half of that sentence, i could feel the blush settling in. Why did him saying that make me so shy? During his time on board the tardis, he seemed to follow me around. That, I had noticed. But I merely thought it was his love for annoying me that made him do that. We had a movie night last week and he sat next to me. Just a coincidence, right? Or that one time he held my hand whilst running away from a pack of zygons. Just the heat of the moment surely. All of a sudden, I felt myself get pushed forward, away from the tree. Before I could complain, two arms wrapped around my sides; taking my hands in theirs then sliding them into the pockets of my hoodie. Looking up, the master looked back with a lazy grin.
"Dont even complain love, I don't have a coat and you're freezing." Knowing he was right, I relaxed back into his hold, basking in his natural body heat. Even though he wasn't the tallest man alive, he was the perfect height to hug. Shamefully, I had noticed this the first time we met. Back then, I found him to be quiet attractive. Not that I didn't now but, seeing as he was the doctors enemy, I tried not to think such things. More wind blew and I pressed myself against him more. Not minding, the master gave my hand a quick squeeze.
"Where is she? In what world is this an hour? Its been, what, three at this point? Ridiculous." He tutted, clearly fed up by this point. So was I.
"She's with yaz, master." Confused, he stared down at me as I rested my head back to meet his peircing eyes.
"Have you not noticed, in all your time with us?"
"Noticed what?" He asked, clearly oblivious to the blossoming romance.
"The only thing the doctor pays any attention to now is yaz. Not me, not even you. Since they got together, it's consumed her." My tone was slightly bitter over this whole situation.
"And, you know, I don't blame her. I'd love to have a relationship. But its gotten to the point where the rest of us don't matter. Hell, even Dan left." I continued. Hearing the master scoff, I glanced up once again.
"That's what keeping her so distracted? She does this every time." Shocked that he didn't see this, I asked-
"You really didn't notice? They're pretty obvious." Grinning, he shrugged a little.
"I was only ever focusing on you." Face heating up, I looked away quickly and listened as he laughed a little. The cold was getting worse the later it got and my body was shaking at this point.
"She'll never hear the end of this. Making you suffer whilst she has her play dates." He muttered, glaring at nothing in particular.
"Even I considered leaving but there's nothing for me at home. Now, there's nothing for me here either. She barely registers that I'm there." I didn't mean to get choked up, but tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and my voice wavered.
"Maybe I should just go home. I'm not needed here anymore. Y'know, people always told me I was the second choice." Maybe it was the cold, making me ramble on about the things that had been building up for a while. Pressing my lips together, I let out a quiet sniffle. Instantly, I was turned around and pulled into the masters hold properly. His arms were wrapped around me tightly and, on instinct, I buried my face into the crook of his neck. Tears ran down my cheeks but he didn't seem to mind.
"Dont say that. You're not a second choice. Just because that idiot woman is love struck, doesn't mean you're worth any less." The master spoke softly, rubbing my back which both soothed me and created extra heat.
"You're the reason I agreed to her idea. The only reason I followed you around was because I wanted to be near you." Stunned at his admittance, I lifted my head just enough to look at him. Just by reading his expression, I could see it was sincere.
"Could of just come to me normally."
"Most humans push me away." Resting my head back down again, I gripped onto his shirt weakly.
"I won't. I like your company." It was true. This insane, genocidal man brought me comfort.
"I'll remember you said that, sweetheart." The pet name just caused me to smile. Beginning to feel light headed, I went slightly limp and the master cursed under his breath.
"Try to stay awake, I'm trying to contact her." Knowing he meant with his mind, the doctor was most likely Ignoring him. Like always. He kept grumbling about how ignorant and careless she was. Agreeing mentally, I perked up once hearing the familiar engines of the tardis. Out she came, placing her hands on her hips dramatically.
"What are you whining about? I've only been gone a little while!" The doctor almost yelled, clearly annoyed that he'd been contacting her.
"A little? It's been three hours and you damn well know the conditions of this planet!" He spoke through gritted teeth, glaring at the blonde lady. She just scoffed.
"You're fine! Honestly. You're so dramatic." The sound of her voice became muffled as my body finally gave out. Luckily, the master felt this and lifted me with ease before giving the doc a deadly stare.
"Get out of the way." Eyes wide, she turned on her heal and walked back into her ship, him barging past. Completely ignoring yazs' calls, he was glad to find the tardis had moved my room closer. Pushing the door open with his foot, he was quick to place me down on the bed before pulling the covers up.
"I'll be right back." He smiled before leaving me to get comfortable. The bed was cosy and the duvet brought instant warmth. Not enough though.
The master made his way into the kitchen and began boiling milk. Drumming his fingers against the marble surface, he felt eyes on the back of his head.
"So, did you have fun on your little date, doctor?" Hearing her come closer, she leant against the counter and glared up at him.
"I was, until you got in the way. You know, when you agreed to this I thought you'd be easy for once." Disbelief was written all over his face.
"Your companion was suffering."
"She's stronger than you think." She retorted to his statement. Trying to calm himself down, the master chuckled bitterly.
"No, I know how strong she is. However, when someone collapses in my arms, that tells me they're suffering." Huffing, the doctor threw her arms up in a sort of defeated manner.
"Okay, so I miscalculated time." Pouring the hot milk into the cup, the master reached I to the cupboard to grab the hot chocolate powder.
"Why are you drinking that?" Rolling his eyes at her question, he carried on with making the drink.
"Its not for me." He muttered, hunting around for marshmallows. Realising who is was for, the blonde blinked in confusion.
"(Y/n) likes hot chocolate?" The master picked up the mug and looked to her with a blank expression.
"I've been here two months and I know your companion far better than you do."
--------☆
"Here you go." Sitting up, I smiled as the master handed me the perfect cup of hot chocolate. Actually, too perfect. There was seven mini marshmallows floating on top. Exactly how I made it.
"You remembered." I said, simpering at the action that warmed my heart. Coming to sit beside me, he just smirked. Looking smug as ever.
"Of course I did. You make it every time we get back from an outing." Sipping it, I felt content. I had also noticed it was made in my favourite mug.
"Do you need anything?" Humming, I looked up at him and nod immediately. The master stood up, ready to assist but looked perplexed once I'd moved over so I was on the other side of the bed.
"Sit. Stay." Raising his eyebrows, he chuckled and sat down properly. I lifted his arm up and slipped into his hold easily. Almost too easily.
"You needed this?" He asked, thumbing my waist gently. I nod and relaxed completely, my hands holding the mug snug to my chest.
"She's going to come look for me." The master reminded me. Reaching over, I pat the ship affectionately.
"Keep her away, please." Letting of a sound of agreement, I knew I'd been listened to. Finishing my drink, I placed it down then curled up. I felt instantly better and arms circled around me and pulled me in closer.
---------☆
A few days later, I was sitting in the console room, reading a book peacefully. I'd been given a half hearted apology from the doctor but that didn't matter to me.
"What are you reading?" Looking up from my page, I smiled at the master and nodded for him to sit next to me. Explaining the Elizabethan literature to him, we began discussing the book in detail. It was nice to finally have someone to talk to. My head rested against his shoulder as we spoke, a calming atmosphere in the air. Unfortunately, we were disturbed once the doctor bounded in with yaz hot on her trail.
"So I'm thinking Trellon? Beautiful planet. Full of unique buildings, exotic markets and-"
"And one of the most deadly royal guards in that part of the galaxy." The master interrupted, looking unamused.
"We'll be fine as long as we don't do anything disruptive." She waved him off, inputing the coordinates into the system. Sighing, the male got up and went to her side.
"Are we sure you'll be okay then?" Letting out a gasp, she seemed almost offended.
"I'm not that bad." He just shrugged. I joined them and looked at her. Seeing the look on my face, I didn't miss the vexed expression.
"Yes you have time to go change. The climate is like that of your home. Lukewarm." Nodding, I left and went into my room. Opting to wear a baggy jumper, short skirt and boots. Making sure my hair was brushed, I felt the tardis land and sprinted back to the console room. Yaz smiled at me and walked over to the door with the doc.
"Ready?" The master held his hand out for me and I took it happily.
Around ten minutes later, we arrived at a huge outdoor market. Different spices and other aromatic smells hung in thr air.
"Now then. Don't wonder off too far and don't get into trouble." The doctor lectured, gazing at one individual in particular. The male besides me held his hands up in defence.
"I make no promises." He chuckled before pulling me off into the crowed. Seemingly excited, I gripped onto his hand, sharing his energy. It was like he was looking for something, inspecting each stall we passed by.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, gazing round in wander. It was extremely busy and the people were dressed up extravagantly.
"Theres this drink. Think, hot chocolate meets cinnamon and maple an-"
"Christmas?" Grinning, he nod and finally came to a halt.
"Yes! Exactly." The master picked up two round, bowl like mugs and handed me one. It was loaded with cream and some sort of sprinkles. Honestly, it looked amazing.
"Try it. You won't be disappointed." Listening to him, I took a sip but only got the cream. Huffing, the masters laugh caught me off guard so I looked up to him.
"What?" Instead of replying, he stepped forward and used his thumb to wipe my nose off gently.
"Try again." Giggling slightly, I took a proper drink this time and my eyes widened at the flavour.
"Good right?" Nodding eagerly, I pointed over to a small box on the counter.
"What's that?" Checking what I was looking at, the master grabbed them and opened it up. Inside were an assortment of colourful tiny blocks. Tilting my head, I watched as he picked one up one and held it to my lips. Giving him a sceptical look, he sighed.
"They're truffles. The sweet kind, not the mushrooms." Taking his word for it, I opened my mouth and was delighted to find it tasted like roasted, caramelised hazelnuts.
"You should trust me by now dear." He spoke almost sadly. Placing the mug down, I hugged his waist tightly.
"I do trust you." Arms wrapped around me and kept me in a protective hold. Like this, I felt content and safe.
"Come on. There's more I want to show you."
--------☆
Back on board, I slipped away to take a shower and freshen up. I was happy that, for once, nothing bad happened. Shamefully, it actually felt like a date but I couldn't let myself think like that. Stepping out of my room, I wash shocked to come face to face with the doctor. I smiled up at her.
"Has he hypnotised you?" She spoke sharply, making me very confused.
"What?"
"Or has he promised you things? Empires or galaxies?" Realising she was talking about the master, I blinked at her.
"No? What are you talking about?" I questioned, wondering why she was acting like this. Suddenly, she pulled out her screwdriver and gave me a sonic. Her features were flooded with annoyance.
"I saw you both. Holding hands, sharing food. You even hugged him." Feeling like my privacy had been completely invaded, I moved away.
"You were watching us?"
"I had no choice!" The doctor almost sounded convincing but I knew what she said just wasn't the case.
"Yes you do. You don't need to watch him that closely." Scoffing at my words, she leant back against the wall with a prominent scowel.
"You have no idea (Y/n). He will kill you." Having heard this all before, I rubbed my face in annoyance.
"Dont you think he would of done that by now? Doctor, I think maybe he just enjoys my company." This time, she actually laughed. Her head fell back against the wall before coming up to meet my gaze.
"Oh you poor thing. He really got you didn't he?" Tone patronising, I could feel my blood boiling. Why so suddenly was she treating me like I was nothing.
"Dont talk to me like a child. Just because you think yaz is better than the rest of us, does not give you the right to treat me like shit!" For a moment, she was silent before getting right up in my face.
"You really are stupid! He will manipulate you and treat you like his puppy!" Flinching, I kept my cool.
"Just like you do!" Before she could scream again, I threw my towel at her and ran off down the corridor.
A door suddenly appeared on my left and I entered quickly. Out of breath, I hunched over and successfully held myself from falling.
"(Y/n)?" Looking up, I saw the master sat on a brown leather couch. Taking his glasses off, I wobbled over then collapsed next to him. He sat up and hooked his hands under my arms, pulling me over into his embrace.
"Do you want to kill me? If you do, please just get it done with." After a minute of no reply, his hand began to mess with my hair.
"I'm guessing the doctor had a little word with you hm?" Nodding, I buried my face into his purple vest and took in the scent of old books and ink.
"I always thought, every companion of hers would be on my list. Every one of them have been so annoying. So dumb. Helplessly in love with her." He spoke calmly. His hearts beating in a relaxing rhythm.
"Except you. You've never been afraid of me. You never held the doctor up to a higher standard or treated her as a god." Letting out a sigh, I could tell he was conflicted.
"It took me so long to figure out why I couldn't bring myself to kill you. At first I followed you in hopes I'd just snap like usual. But no. Instead, you bring me peace." Lifing my head, I looked up at him with big eyes. Curious as to where he was going with this, I let him continue.
"You numb the racket in my brain. And whilst I couldn't accept it at first. I do now." I sat myself up, sitting between his legs. Tilting my head, I blushed as he pat cheeks dry gently.
"So no. I'm not going to kill you. Maybe steal you away once I'm finally allowed to go." Giggling, I leant into his larger hand.
"I wouldn't mind that." A grin broke out on his face, pulling me forward yet again so we were even closer.
"Seriously?"
"Why wouldn't I agree? You're more fun than her. Plus, maybe you'll take me where I want to go?" Humming, the master brushed his fingers down through my hair.
"Anywhere you like, as long as I'm sure I can keep you safe." I couldn't help but relax more under his touch.
"I trust you, you know? I know you'd keep me safe no matter what." He grinned, placing a hand on my head and pulling me back into his arms.
"Then, we'll leave. And I'll take wherever and whenever you like." The master spoke softly, leaning down and kissing my head.
"We won't have to deal with this anymore. I promise."
Part 2
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Best Lies || Max Burnett
Summary: The first time you met Max you were a cyber security specialist for your family company, a leader in the tech industry. Max was the reason that life was shattered and your career down the drain. When Max returns to your life in need of your help you find yourself needing to decide whether people truly deserve second chances.
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, where to begin...there's criminal activity (cyber crime, trafficking, conning), violence, sexual themes, plot twists.
WC: 9.4k
You looked around the auditorium and saw which students were paying attention and which were busy doodling in their notebooks. Wrapping your knuckles on the podium, a few heads darted up and you pinned them with a knowing look before continuing your lecture. “The brain is a complex computer that is constantly uploading information from the world around you, mostly subconsciously. It’s function is to keep you alive, and that means it is searching for signs that something is amiss.
“There is a reason people trust their instincts, it is the brain accepting the information it has received and deemed something to be safe. But, with some manipulation and understanding, the brain can be lied to.
“Now, who can tell me what the best lies are?”
The bell indicated the end of the lecture and the students all began closing their books or packing away their laptops. There was no keeping their attention for a minute longer and you spoke louder so they could hear you over the noise. “Next week we will be discussing how to lie to the brain, so read up on the material that will be emailed out to you this evening.”
Most of the students had already disappeared before you had unclipped the microphone from your lapel and you gathered the textbook you had used for reference only to find a man sitting comfortably in the front row. He definitely wasn’t one of your students, with his expensive cashmere overcoat and shiny loafers. He screamed ‘investment banker’ or ‘hedge fund manager’.
“The ones that hold a kernel of truth,” he said as he stood up. “To answer your question.”
“Yes, Max, I don’t need to be reminded that you are the best liar I had the displeasure of meeting.” You closed the textbook with a little more force than was needed before taking a deep breath as he closed the distance between you.
He turned up the charm as he smiled at your reaction and his eyes darted to your lips. “From what I remember, there was a lot of pleasure involved.”
You shoved the book into your satchel and zipped it shut before crossing your arms. “Cut the bullshit. You didn’t come here for a stroll down memory lane.”
“Aw, I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to really relive those nights,” he said with an arrogant snicker as he ran his knuckle across your cheek. When he received no reaction from you he dropped the act and stepped back with a sigh. “I need your help.”
A laugh erupted at the admission and you held a finger up to stop him talking further. “So let me get this straight. You, Max Roberts, the man who single handedly ruined my life, wants my help?”
“It’s Burnett, actually, and I wouldn’t say I ruined your life, professor.” He spun around with his arms out and looked at the huge auditorium that had only minutes earlier been packed with hundreds of students. “Things worked out pretty well for you.”
“Of course, not even your name was real.” You scoffed to yourself. “I’m doing so well; I’m only estranged from my family, unable to form any meaningful relationships because I trusted the wrong man and in therapy twice a week. Yeah, it worked out really well.” You rolled your eyes and turned away but he caught you by the hand and stopped you.
His thumb caressed your knuckles and a flash of surprise flitted across his features before he hid it. “You still wear the ring.”
You tore your hand from his and shoved it in the pocket of your blazer but it was too late. “It serves to keep me from making the same mistake twice. Now leave before I call security.”
“You know, it wasn’t all a lie.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. His fist uncurled and your breath hitched at the diamond wedding band that matched the engagement ring on your finger. “I wouldn’t have bought this if it was.”
You shook your head vehemently as the spotlights hit the diamonds and they sparkled brightly. “You’re still lying.”
“Did you ever take it to a jeweller?”
“Why would I do that?” you asked with a scoff. “So they could laugh at me too when they tell me it's worthless.”
“Look, I know I’m a terrible person, I won’t argue with that, but I messed up.” He looked genuinely guilty as he dipped his head and peered sheepishly through the long dark strands that fell over his eyes. “I was…myself when I was with you.”
A familiar burn of resentment grew when your foot lifted to take a step forward but you caught yourself before you could move closer to him. Like the sun, it was impossible not to fall into his orbit but you fought the pull of gravity. “I think you are starting to believe your own lies.”
The doors at the back of the room opened and Professor Stafford walked in with his briefcase and an arm full of textbooks to prepare for his lecture of Criminology 401. The arrival brought back your common sense and you swung your bag over your shoulder before jerking your head to the other exit.
“My office,” you ordered, knowing delaying the conversation would only mean he found you at another point in time. You would give up your free hour between lectures in the hopes you wouldn’t have to see his face ever again.
Max looked curiously around the room, lingering on the bookshelf, before he dropped into the chair across from your desk and crossed his ankle over his knee. Those intelligent blue eyes took in everything and you could practically see the cogs in his brains turning with what he was learning in the silence.
“What do you want, Max?”
He let a small piece of his perfect facade fall away so you could see the fear in his eyes as he leant forward. “I have a problem, one that is time sensitive, and you’re the only person that can help me.”
You should have outright refused, in fact the words were on the tip of your tongue but instead you asked, “And if I don’t?”
Max licked his lips and tried to smile but it was constricted to a small twitch at the corners. “Then my lawyers will be in touch to settle my estate and you will once again be very, very rich.”
“It’s the least you could do after what you did to my family,” you growled but the words tasted bitter at the thought of him being dead, even though you had wished for that very thing on your darkest nights.
“I know, I know.”
“Your little posse of thieves could surely help you out, you were awfully chummy with them. What do you need me for?”
Max sucked the air between his teeth and pursed his lips. You were suddenly nervous and reached for a pen to fidget with while you waited for him to speak. “I had a job lined up with a bank, but the man I had on the inside had an accident. He was a security analyst.”
The pen in your hand lost balance and tumbled onto the desk as you bolted to your feet. “No, no fucking way, Max! I am not a con artist, and I’m not going to be a part of this.”
He pointed to the wall of framed qualifications as he argued, “You know it all already, you studied this. Freud, Festinger, Bandura.” He listed off the authors of the works that filled your bookshelf.
“And before this I was an expert in cyber security but it still didn’t stop what you did to me. It was humiliating, Max, you ruined my name. Do you understand that? Do you even stop to think about the innocent people you have hurt while you play dice with their lives?” You already knew the answer as you spun your chair to look out over the campus beyond the window. “I only studied Cognitive Psychology so I could understand how you could make such a fool of me.”
Max’s shoes were quiet on the carpet as he rounded the desk and turned your chair to face him. Dropping to his knees, he bowed his head until it rested against your knee and your fingers itched to run through his hair just to see if it was still as soft as it used to be.
“I’m sorry,” Max murmured, the words so foreign from his lips that you couldn’t comprehend he had even said them until he repeated himself over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
You didn't want an apology. In all the years since he had ghosted you and left behind a steaming pile of muck you only wanted one thing, an answer. “Why?”
Max sat back on his heels and wrapped his arms around his knees as he looked up at you, his lips parting only to close again as he struggled to formulate the words. “I was scared.” You waited for him to expand but the silence dragged on until you cleared your throat and lifted your brows, spurring him to continue with a proper explanation. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me,” you growled, angered by the question.
“I fell in love with you, goddammit. It wasn’t meant to happen, but it did and…I ran.”
“You ran, that’s the understatement of the century,” you huffed as a headache began to form at your temples.
“I know it's not what you want to hear, but the reason you believed everything I told you was because too much of it was the truth.”
Those were the best lies. And goddamn if it wasn’t working again as you felt the instinct to believe him even after all he had done. No matter how well one trained the brain, the heart was still easily betrayed.
“Your life is really in danger?” you asked quietly as you worried on your bottom lip. “No lies.”
“Cross my heart,” he said with a morose nod as he drew his finger across his chest.
The debate in your head was far shorter than you would have liked for such a monumental decision but you couldn’t stand idly by knowing you might be able to save him from whatever mess he had got himself into.
“If I do this, I never want to hear from you again. If you see me in the streets, you pretend you don’t know me.” He looked ready to argue but another glare kept his lips sealed before he nodded. “Okay, tell me what you need me to do.”
The cheap polyester pantsuit itched your legs with each step into the Hartmont Brough Bank and you tugged your lanyard out to show your staff ID to the security guard. The sleepy man barely looked up from his newspaper before hitting the buzzer to let you into the office space behind the tellers.
“You must be the new cyber security analyst,” a portly gentleman greeted with a smile while looking for your name tag.
“Ashley Jenkins,” you lied smoothly.
Confidence, that was the key. If you looked shady or uncomfortable the alarm bells would start ringing in the manager's head.
“Welcome to HBB, Miss Jenkins. I’ll show you to your cubicle and get you introduced to the team. It is rather small but they are close knit.”
He continued to rattle on about the office dynamics and where to find the bathrooms and the staff room. You barely paid any attention as you scanned the office space and watched the other staff interacting.
“Here you are.” He finally came to a stop at an empty booth and gave him your thanks as you stepped inside to open the laptop that was ready and waiting. “Email should be set up already but if you have any issues call down to IT.”
“I think I can take it from here,” you said, probably knowing more about fixing computers than the IT team anyway.
You were left to settle in and run through a checklist of audits, scanning each system for any malware or vulnerabilities. With a name like Hartmont Brough it was no surprise the clients of the bank were the top 1% of the wealthiest men and women in America and they expected their money and investments to be protected by the best.
It was worryingly easy to slip back into the life you had left but if you had used your real name there was no chance the company would have hired you. The entire tech industry used your family name as a cautionary tale or, more appropriately, a horror story. All because of Max and the sweet lies that rolled off his tongue like honey.
The modest apartment that had been rented under your fake name smelt like heaven when you opened the door. After the long day spent learning the names of everyone in the building the last thing you wanted to do was cook but you lost your appetite at seeing Max standing in your kitchen.
Hearing the door open, he looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Welcome home, sweetheart. How was your day?”
You dumped your handbag on the table and shrugged off the blazer before crossing your arms. “What are you doing here, Max?”
“Making your favourite,” he said, showing you the contents of the frying pan before tossing them expertly in the air to catch them.
Your scowl softened as you sashayed towards him, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth as he watched your hips swaying intently. Reaching past him, you turned the stove off and ran your hand up his arm to his chest. A smirk grew on his lips and he stepped back as you gently pushed him out of the kitchen.
Max walked backwards past the table and the curve of his lips only grew as he came closer to your bedroom door. There was only a moment of surprise when his feet crossed the threshold and he turned to see you had led him to the hallway before slamming the door in his face.
“Thanks for dinner!” you called out as you shoved the deadbolt across and went to enjoy the hot meal he had made.
It was late by the time you had finished creating a fake social media presence in case anyone at work looked into ‘Ashley Jenkins’ but the next job couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
All the hardware stores that you drove past were closed but you found what you needed at Walmart and made your way back to the apartment to change the barrels in the door lock. Knowing Max, he would have no qualms about letting himself in again and you would probably wake up to find him lounging on his side of the bed.
No, not his side of the bed. The other side of the bed. He didn’t have a side anymore.
A headache was forming from lack of sleep and the coffee from the staffroom was nowhere near strong enough to survive on. Your nights were spent recording lectures and readings along with marking papers and answering questions that your students emailed in. It had only been two weeks and you weren’t sure how you were going to keep this up when Max had given no timeline on when his con was going to be complete.
“...what can I say, happy wife, happy life,” a familiar voice trickled through the office and you shook your head.
“Great, now I’m hearing his voice,” you muttered under your breath before taking another gulp of the burnt filter coffee.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr Jenkins.”
The headache seemed to explode from your head and manifest into a 6 foot man that was grinning as he carefully waved to your manager, two takeaway cups of coffee in his hands and a brown paper bag tucked under his arm.
“That had better be a triple chocolate muffin,” you grumbled as you took the bag from him. The mouthwatering scent of the freshly baked treat wafted up as soon as you opened the bag and a moan slipped past your lips when you confirmed it was exactly what you had been hoping for.
Max bent over you to place one of the barista coffee cups on your desk and his cheek brushed yours from the closeness. “Now why don’t you introduce your husband to your colleagues, sweetheart?”
You controlled the burst of anger that rose in your chest and suppressed the urge to roll your computer chair over his toes as you adapted to the new information he had conveniently left out in all the conversations you had. “That wouldn’t be very professional of me, honeybun.”
Unfortunately, the others in the office were drawn to the smell of strong coffee and baking and their heads popped up one by one but there was one in particular that Max zeroed in on.
Brent Mathers, Relationship Manager and the answer to the question you had been wondering since you arrived. Brent was the mark.
You locked your computer before pushing the chair back and felt the warmth of Max’s hand on the small of your back, a familiar weight you had once leaned into and almost did on reflex. The heat grew as his hand remained fixed to you while you introduced him to your team, making your way closer to the mark.
He had obviously done his research, but you expected nothing less from Max, and he casually managed to work Brent’s interests into the conversation until they were chatting like old friends. It was a reminder of how easy it was to fall under Max’s spell and the wake up you needed to move away from his electric touch.
“No way,” Max gasped with false surprise and threw his hands up. “I have season tickets to the Knicks but Ash won’t come with me and I hate going on my own.”
“I would rather waste my time doing anything other than watching basketball. And, on that note, I am going back to work.” You pressed a quick peck to Max’s cheek before heading off.
“See what I have to deal with,” Max joked, earning a laugh from Brent.
“Well, if you ever want some company I won’t turn down a seat at the game.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Here, lemme get your number, there’s a game Friday if you’re up for it?”
And he was in. Game, set, match. Max had won and Brent didn’t even know it.
“You’re a natural, baby,” Max purred in your ear as you walked him to the elevator after he had successfully wormed his way into Brent’s life. “Improvising like that isn’t easy. I’m proud of you.”
You wished you could blame the tremor in your hands on the caffeine in your system but you wouldn’t lie to yourself. Especially not when the elevator arrived and Max dipped his head to yours and kissed you with lips that were just as soft and full as you remembered.
Brent wasn’t the only one in trouble.
Your finger hovered over Max’s phone number and you chewed your bottom lip as you debated tossing the phone from your reach but common sense lost and you pressed the green button. If you had changed your mind it would have been too late as he answered on the second ring.
“It’s late.”
“Can’t sleep.”
There was a constant hum in the background and you wondered if the call had dropped from how long he was silent for. Maybe he was watching the same window to the past when you would call him during your night shifts, or maybe he was distracted by whatever life he had outside of the con.
“You called me,” he finally said before you heard the squeal of tires and a honk of a car horn.
“I know. I,” you caught yourself and sighed as you stared at the phone, the seconds of the call growing, “nevermind, I shouldn’t have done that. Goodnight Max.”
“Wait,” he called out, a thud echoing in the background. “I’m outside.”
The buzzer rang a second later and you tossed the blankets back to answer the door, still not quite believing it was Max on the other side until it swung open. The phone was still pressed to his ear and you both flinched at the high pitch whine they made before ending the call and you laughed nervously.
“I didn’t think you would come.”
Max stepped inside with a lopsided grin and kicked the door closed. You had been frozen at his arrival but his entrance had left his body almost flush to yours and he closed that distance by curling his arm around your waist and tugging you against him.
The words about to fall from your mouth were stolen as his lips crashed against yours and you forgot what you were going to say when your hands came to rest on his hard chest. Your lips parted as he deepened the kiss and you ceded control to him when his tongue danced with yours.
Clothes disappeared with each step towards your bedroom and you lost yourself as your hands acquainted themselves with Max’s body.
“This was a mistake,” you whispered to the dark room, unsure if Max was still awake or not while you lay in his arms, your head on his chest.
“People like us don’t make mistakes, we make choices and we stand by them. You knew what would happen if you called me and you still did it,” he murmured back with a deep, sleep-laden voice. His arm curled tighter around you as he rolled onto his side and tipped your head back so you could see his eyes boring into you in the dim moonlight. “But if we had to choose a mistake, mine would be that we didn’t do this sooner.”
You closed your eyes and brushed your lips softly against his before speaking, “It won’t happen again anyway. You’ll be gone soon, off to your next con and I will go back to my real job.”
He caught the hint of bitterness in your tone and propped his head up on one hand while the other traced delicately along your spine until goosebumps prickled across your skin. “Can you go back, after this month, could you really go back to being a boring professor? You can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed the thrill.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you said as you sat up. “It’s wrong.”
Max groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “You can’t cheat an honest man.”
“That hurts,” you grumbled, grabbing your silk robe to cover yourself and put space between you both.
“Y/N, I didn’t mean you.” He crossed the room and trapped you between his body and the wall. “You were never the mark, sweetheart.”
“I was just collateral. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Max sighed and dropped his forehead to yours. “I’ve apologised already, what else do I have to do to make it right?”
You took a deep breath and looked him dead in the eyes. “Tell me everything.”
Max sucked in his bottom lip as he pushed off the wall and walked over to the window to see the city sprawling below. “Only if you quit. Quit your job and work with me.”
“I can’t just quit!”
Max’s frown reflected on the glass before he faced you. “You can, you just don’t want to. You’re afraid.”
“I am not,” you argued before sighing in defeat. “Okay, maybe a little, but the last time I trusted you it bit me on the ass.”
Max’s shoulders dropped and he took a heavy seat on the edge of the bed. His fingers laced together and he leaned forward on his elbows deep in thought.
“Brent isn’t the mark.” You blinked dumbly at his admission, waiting for him to continue. “He has two clients who have amassed their considerable wealth by trafficking sex workers to Europe using their shipping companies.”
“You’re suddenly a philanthropist?”
“God no,” he scoffed. “I’m not planning on taking them down. I just need to get their contact details and pass it on to the people who want it, badly. They can deal with them.”
You nodded in understanding. “The people who are threatening you.”
“I’m going to clone Brent’s phone at the game Friday night, give it to the boss and get the hell out of New York.” He finally looked up from his hands. “I want you to come with me.”
Friday Evening
“It will be highly encrypted so the cloning could take a while, half an hour at the most, and the devices need to remain close to each other, working 2-3 feet,” you explained again to make sure Max fully understood the parameters of the clone phone. “If they are separated, the copying will pause for up to 30 seconds. If they don’t come back within range in that time then you will have to start again.”
Max straightened the cuff links at his wrists before centering his tie and nodded. “I got it. How do I look?”
You slipped the phone into his pocket and plucked a wayward piece of lint from his shoulder before flattening his collar a little more. “Criminally sexy.”
Max smirked and patted his pockets to feel his keys, wallet and phone. “The game should be finished by 9.30 and I’ll meet you at the Rose Park Motel at 10.”
“Be careful,” you murmured as your stomach twisted in knots.
“Always,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as he walked out of the apartment that had been boxed up in a matter of hours last night. If everything went to plan you wouldn’t be coming back here again.
You sat in front of your laptop, the last item waiting to be packed and finished what you had been typing before hitting enter and closing the lid. You zipped the bag shut and slung it over your shoulder ready to leave for the last time before feeling your phone ring.
“Mr Hansen?” you answered, confused at the call out of work hours.
“Oh, Ashley, thank god you answered,” he rushed out. “I really need your help. Can you come to the office?”
“Yeah, of course, I can be there in 15 minutes.”
“Good, great, thank you,” he stammered before hanging up in a hurry.
Head office should have been empty when you arrived but most of the cyber security team, the senior leadership team and the bank’s lawyers were bustling about when you pulled your chair up.
“…no ransom yet…”
“…targeted every weakness…”
“…could it be Anonymous?”
You peered across at Floyd in the cubicle next to you and found intricate lines of code filling his screens as he searched for the hacker that had compromised the bank's software. “Do they really think Anonymous hacked the bank?”
Floyd barely looked up from his screens as he continued to type and talk, “No idea but, if it is, it makes you wonder who the rich folk are that use this place. Anonymous don’t waste their time looking into petty crime if you know what I mean.”
You scooted closer and whispered, “You think there’s dodgy stuff going on?”
“Who knows?” he said with a shrug before pausing to turn to face you. “I just know that we have dealt with black hat hackers before but this has the suits proper scared.”
Floyd focused on something over your shoulder and spun back to his screen as the heavy feet of Damien Hansen arrived. “Ashley, I need you to focus on the Online Portal system and make sure it hasn’t been compromised, as I’m sure you’re already aware of the situation.”
“On it,” you confirmed as he ran a handkerchief over his clammy forehead and rushed into the conference room where the lawyers were waiting.
Cracking your knuckles, you logged into the computer with your credentials and got to work. Two hours passed by in the blur as you checked the code of the Online Portal system for any tampering and just as the clock was about to strike 10pm a cheer rose from Toby’s desk opposite. “It’s gone!”
The entire office seemed to swell as one of the owners and his posse of lawyers surrounded the small cubicle while Toby explained the virus had ‘expired’.
Floyd leaned back in his chair and stuck his head past the privacy barrier between your desks. “No one makes a program as complex as that and sets a timer for it to end.”
“It makes no sense,” you agreed despite checking the lingering trace yourself and seeing that was exactly what had happened. “Unless it’s a warning?”
“You there, Miss, what do you mean ‘a warning’?” Mr Hartmont asked as he fixed his eyes on you from Toby’s desk.
You looked around and shied away as all the attention was suddenly on you before clearing your throat and giving your opinion, “Well, there was no ransom and it didn’t target the personal details of the clients. What if it was just getting a layout of the system as a whole?”
The co-owner narrowed his eyes and you looked at Floyd for backup.
“Imagine a military operation,” Floyd said. “Before launching an attack they do the reconnaissance work so they know what they are heading into.”
You mouthed ‘thank you’ to Floyd as Mr Hartmont’s eyes widened in understanding. “That is something we will certainly take into consideration when we decide our next move.”
The hoard of suits retreated back to the conference room except for Mr Hansen who came and thanked each of your co-workers. “We will need some of you to work through the night, just while we are on high alert, but you will be well compensated.”
“Shotgun!” Floyd called with a grin at the thought of a bonus pay followed by Jessica and Danny.
“No thanks,” you said with a yawn. “My husband will be waiting up to tell me all about the Knicks game. Actually, on second thought I’d rather work than hear about that.”
The guys laughed and shook their heads but Jessica gave you a look of commiseration before waving you off.
“Thanks again for coming in,” Mr Hansen said as he walked you and Toby to the elevator. “You are both real assets to the company. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, see you on Monday.”
You parted from Toby in the staff car park with a polite goodbye before racing to the motel Max would be waiting at.
Your palms turned clammy against the steering wheel and your pulse quickened at the nervousness that was festering.
You were running late.
What would Max think?
Your phone had been tossed into the East River as you crossed over so your location couldn’t be traced. Someone would surely start looking when you didn’t show up at Hartmont Brough Bank on Monday morning, not that they would find anything.
You pulled into the Rose Park Motel and looked for Max’s sleek Mercedes but found most of the spaces empty and the others had rusted, beat up cars in them.
Your watch said 10.22pm.
“Where are you, Max?” you asked under your breath before walking to the motel reception. “I’m looking for my husband, he booked a room here. Maxwell Roberts?”
The woman sitting behind the desk rolled her eyes and tucked her strangely hair behind her ear. “If your husband booked a room here it ain’t to bring his wife.” She pointed to the sign on the wall that had the room charges per hour. “Sorry, honey.”
She gave you a look of pity but you ignored it as you reached into your pocket and placed a few crumpled notes on the table. “I’ll take one for an hour, please.”
There was no surprise she didn’t take any of your details down, not when you saw a hooker stumble into the reception with a client. They wouldn’t want to use the motel for their illegal soliciting if they had to leave a name and credit card for ID.
Taking the key that was slid across the chipped formica countertop you made your way to the room, only stopping to grab your laptop from the car.
The room was as dank as you expected and you chose to use the rickety drawers as a stand up desk rather than sitting on the bed and risking whatever bugs and fungi lurked in the blankets. The wifi was insecure and slower than you were hoping but it would be enough to find what you were after.
Max would have thrown his cell phone away before he even got to the game and kept only the clone phone that held all the information he had surely been successful in stealing. There was no way he would have discarded it already so you were going to find it, and find him. If he thought he could leave you high and dry for a second time, he had another thing coming.
You jumped at the knock on the door and grabbed a bread knife from the kitchenette before looking through the peephole to find Max with his hands in his pockets and a bored look on his face. “Open up, sweetheart, it’s chilly.”
“What the hell?” you hissed as you opened the door and closed it quickly behind him. “You were meant to be here an hour ago.”
“Brent kept taking calls, some emergency at work,” he explained as he kissed your forehead and saw your laptop open. “Had to take him out for a drink to finish the cloning.”
“I was about to start looking for you,” you admitted much to his amusement.
“You thought I’d run?” he guessed with a pout, his eyebrows crumpling together as he tugged you by the hips and into his arms. “I thought you trusted me?”
“I do,” you hurried to reassure him and erase the sad look in his eyes. “I do trust you, or I wouldn’t be here.”
Placated, he released you to grab the go-bag you had brought into the motel and shut your laptop lid. “We should go, the handover is in a few hours and we have a drive ahead of us.” He left it at that and went to check out of the motel while you climbed into his car.
In this side of town without wheel locks your car was almost guaranteed to be stolen and the sooner that happened the better. It would be one less thing to dispose of that was linked to Ashley Jenkins.
Max was grinning as he slipped into the driver's seat and his happiness was infectious. He reached over the gearbox and laced his fingers with yours as soon as he was on the road, his fingers moving to the beat of the indie music playing on the radio.
“You should sleep,” Max suggested as the city light disappeared and the houses turned to farms. “We won’t be there for a while yet.”
“Where exactly is there?”
He spared a second to glance at you away from the road before giving the answer, “Boston.”
His clipped tone gave you the impression he wasn’t interested in the conversation or answering anymore questions so you fell silent and rested your head against the window to try to sleep. Exhaustion won and you only woke up when the car came to a stop outside a stripclub.
“Um, what are we doing here?” you asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt like he had and grabbed your bag from the backseat.
“Wait here, Y/N. I’ll be back in a minute.” He was already out of the car without waiting for a reply and you gave him two seconds head start before climbing out after him. He licked his lips as you caught up and looked ready to give you another order but was interrupted by a very large bouncer.
“You're late,” he growled in a voice that was far softer than he appeared to be.
Max waved a hand in your direction. “Women, what can I say? Tell him I have what he wants.”
“Tell him yourself,” the bouncer replied as he opened the velvet rope and jutted his head to the stairs that were sign posted as ‘Staff Only’.
You were halfway up the first flight when Max turned and stared down at you with pursed lips. “What didn’t you understand about ‘stay in the car’?”
“I didn’t just work hard for a whole month so I could stay in the car at the end.” You pushed past him and continued to climb the stairs until you reached the first floor and paused to see where Max would go but he was still where you left him, tapping a finger to his lips deep in thought. “You’re already late, remember?”
His head fell back with a groan before he took the stairs two at a time until he reached you. “Fine, but keep your head down.” He curled his arm around your waist and turned down a corridor. “These men don’t mess around.”
They proved him right the moment Max knocked on the door and stepped into the large room with a glass wall overlooking the stripclub below. Two more burly guards stood just inside and a devilishly handsome man sat behind the huge mahogany desk.
With just a flick of his ringed finger, the boss set his men into action and one tore you away from Max while the other sent a hard punch to his gut.
“You’re late, Max,” the boss said as he rose to his feet and buttoned his suit up with deft fingers. “We had a deal.”
“Dev, I’ve got what you want,” he countered as he pulled the cloned device from his pocket and clutched his stomach. “It just took a little longer than expected.”
Dev took the phone with a small laugh. “You think I didn’t have eyes on you? I have been watching you the whole time.” He threw the device on the ground and stomped his heel on it until the glass crunched under foot. “Bring me the girl.”
“No, no, leave her out of it.” Max moved to intercept you as the guard dragged you closer to Dev but he was quickly winded by another punch. “She doesn’t know anything.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dev ran his finger down your cheek and you shivered at the strangely intimate touch. “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she, Max. Do you actually care for her or is she another distraction while you make deals behind my back?”
Dev reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of photos, tossing them to the floor at Max’s feet. His face fell passive as he stared at the images of him shaking hands and smiling with some strangers, he didn’t even bother to deny the allegations.
“Now, where does that leave us?” Dev asked as he walked behind you and sent the guard back to the door. You dared not look at what the man behind you was doing as you felt his presence close, instead you locked eyes with Max and hoped to see some sort of plan forming in those depths.
“What do you want?” Max asked after breaking away from your stare.
Dev sucked his teeth and you jumped as his large palms came to rest on your shoulders. “Those scumbags have been taking my girls, butchering the ones they don’t sell. Maybe I should give you a taste of how that feels?”
The grip on your shoulders tightened until a small sound escaped your lips and Max jolted forward. “Or, you tell me everything you know about them.”
Max raised his hands to try to diffuse the situation as he spoke softly, “I don’t know anything, I swear.”
You saw the faint sheen of dampness on his palms and his upturned collar fluttered slightly from the rapid increase in his pulse while his pupils dilated. Even after you had been threatened he was still lying, putting you at risk. You shouldn’t have been surprised.
Something more powerful than rage hit you square in the chest, something you had felt once before - betrayal.
“He’s lying,” you uttered quietly, knowing Dev’s face was close to yours from the warm notes of whiskey that lingered on his breath. Dev’s fingers lifted in surprise and he spun you around to see your jaw clenched in anger, lips pressed to a tight line.
“Not the devoted, lovesick little girlfriend after all.”
“I have a thing about being lied to by him,” you said as you lifted your chin higher and stared back into the searing grey eyes of the boss. “Hurting me won’t get you what you want. He obviously doesn’t care.”
Dev chuckled and dipped his head closer to whisper, “We’ll see about that, won’t we.”
You were shoved away from him and into the arms of the guard who began to drag you from the room. The need to fight flooded you and you kicked your legs out, trying to grab anything you could, but it was fruitless. You couldn’t break the hold that kept your arms pinned and Max was blocked by the other guard.
“Louis, take her to my private room,” Dev said as you passed the threshold, throwing you a wink before he shut the door.
“Let me go, please, I have money.”
“I don’t need your money.” Louis laughed as he opened the door to the room next door and started to place you down gently. “Relax, Dev doesn’t hurt women.”
You stilled as your feet reached the carpet and you saw a window into the office. A one way mirror that you hadn’t noticed when you were inside the room. “It was a ploy.”
The guard pressed his finger to a button on the wall and Max’s voice came through on the vent that opened near the ceiling, “Look, I brought her into this but she had nothing to do with it. Let her go and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Surprise nearly knocked you off your feet as he bartered for your freedom and you stumbled away from the window and into a metal chair.
You had spent years wondering if any of what he said to you was real, if he had even cared when he stole millions from your family and ruined your career. Then, again, when he showed up out of the blue in your auditorium, you had doubted his feelings for you. But finally, you had your answer. Only you weren’t sure it even mattered by now.
“Tell me first, then I’ll let her go. Unharmed, of course.”
Max ran a hand through his hair, messing the dark strands before unbuttoning his suit jacket and dropping into a leather recliner. “They know you want information about their boss.”
“How did they know that?”
“Because I told them,” Max admitted with a tight-lipped smile. “And they gave me a tonne of cash for it.”
Dev tutted and took a seat at his desk. “Always thinking about the money aren’t you, Max.”
“Your boyfriend is a bit of an asshole,” Louis commented as he took a seat beside you. “What do you see in him anyway?”
“It’s none of your business,” you muttered as you watched Max tell Dev everything. He explained how he approached Dev’s adversary, figuring he could make some money out of the exchange as well as use the threat to draw you back into his life. Every word he spoke caused your stomach to drop further and you turned to Louis. “Did they really kidnap your dancers?”
Louis gave a tense nod. “They take homeless girls too. No one reports them missing or cares when they show up dead.”
You turned your attention to Max who was cold and unsympathetic to the horrible acts that were happening while he rolled in the cash playing both sides. He even had the audacity to look smug as he sat there comfortably. You suddenly realised that although he actually loved you and you had been slipping back into those feelings, it didn’t change the fact he was an asshole. An asshole you could no longer stomach spending the rest of your life with, no matter how thrilling an adventure it may be.
“Hey, where are you going?” Louis asked as you shot up from your seat and stormed back to the office.
The door slammed open and Dev cocked an eyebrow at your entrance while Max frowned in confusion. “You piece of shit,” you growled. “You lied to me!”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know what they’ve said about me but you can trust me,” Max said softly, like he was talking to a skittish horse that was unbroken.
“They didn’t have to say anything,” you said as you stepped closer to Dev. “You did enough of that yourself.”
“I suppose I should’ve warned you how thin the walls are in this room,” Dev said with a smirk.
You reeled in your fury as you pushed emotion aside to focus on the facts. “You told me you would be giving him the phone so they could deal with the traffickers.”
“I say a lot of things, sweetheart.”
“I know,” you said with a humourless laugh. “Trust me, I know. I guess that’s why I didn’t completely believe anything you told me. You always did tell the best lies.”
Max straightened up in his seat and his eyes narrowed as his head tilted. He was desperately running through the memories of the last month trying to figure out what the vague threat was.
Turning your back to Max, you faced Dev and crossed your arms. “There’s a laptop in the car downstairs, send one of your men to get it and I will do better than just getting you contact information.”
“Y/N, no, what are you doing?” Max interrupted and tried to rise from the chair only to have his shoulders pinned by the guard behind him before he patted Max’s pockets to find the car keys. “What did you do?”
Louis caught the keys that were thrown his way before slipping from the room.
The atmosphere spiked as Max squirmed under the pressure of the grip but you couldn’t find any enjoyment in his discomfort, even if he deserved that and more.
“May I?” you asked Dev as you nodded to his empty chair.
The seat was still warm as you took a seat and the scent of his cologne stronger like it had permeated the air around his desk from the long hours he spent working. You could already see he was a boss who cared about his employees, even if it appeared he was some kind of ring leader, and he looked exhausted beneath the confident stance and 5 o’clock shadow.
The inquisitive stare was broken when Louis swept into the room with your laptop bag and carefully placed it on the desk, moving Dev’s keyboard aside for you.
“What are you doing?” Max asked again, a hint of true fear in his voice as it peaked.
“I really hoped you had been honest with me.” You didn’t even look up as you continued typing. “I was ready to leave everything, go anywhere with you…but there was always that doubt.
“That’s what my lecture was about the day you came to my class. Instinct and intuition.” Dev circled around his desk to stand behind your chair but unless he understood coding script all he would see was lines of nonsense across the screen.
“What is all this?” Dev asked as he leaned over the chair to look closer as if it would suddenly make sense.
You glanced up over the screen to lock eyes with Max. “Last night while you were with Brent I hacked the bank to trigger their security procedure.”
“Why?” he asked.
“In case you failed. I couldn’t just go digging around where I shouldn’t, it would’ve raised some red flags. But once they’ve been hacked? It’s a free for all to search every file, software, system.”
You hit enter and the window switched to the home screen of SAP; the accounting software that held all the information about every client of Hartmont Brough Bank from their name, address and tax code to their bank account number and balance.
“Holy shit,” Dev said breathlessly. “Who are you?”
You held out your hand for him to shake as you formally introduced yourself, “Y/N Y/L/N.”
His eyes widened in recognition of your surname. “As in Y/L/N Enterprises?”
“Not anymore,” you huffed as you narrowed your eyes at Max who was fuming in the chair. “Give me their names.”
“You don’t want to mess with these people,” Max growled through his teeth.
“That’s what you said about him too,” you said as you gave Dev an appreciative once over, “but he seems pretty decent to me.”
Dev smirked at the compliment and Max thrashed against the hold on him as he argued, “They won’t just kill you, they will make you watch every one you love die first before they gut you too.”
“Dev?” you prompted as your fingers hovered over the keys waiting to search the portal for a name.
Max gave up trying to get through to you and turned his attempts on Dev. “If you tell her who they are you might as well put a gun to her head now.”
That gave Dev pause and you were shown another glimpse of his moral compass. Placing a hand on his arm to get him to look away from Max, you gave him a reassuring smile and said, “They won’t be able to trace this to me. He’s just trying to save himself because the target will be on his back.”
His grey eyes scanned yours for a moment, searching for a hint of a lie, before he gave a small nod and stood up. “Adam Bethel and Kristian Svensek.”
You started with Adam and whistled at the bank balance that had put your family’s fortune to shame. “Would be a waste to just erase it.”
“Here,” Dev said as he opened his internet browser on his phone and found a charity that supported survivors of sex trafficking after rescuing women. “Give it to them.”
Max groaned and dropped his head at the thought of stealing all that money and not keeping a cent of it. The thought made you smile because he was right when he said you enjoyed the thrill of playing spymaster but being Robin Hood was even better.
You entered the banking details for Agape International Missions and made the donation anonymously before moving onto Kristian and giving his sum to Shared Hope International.
Sitting back, you stared at the screen and smiled with satisfaction, the final balance: $0.01.
“600 million dollars,” Max grumbled and gave up fighting, falling back into the chair. “You just gave away 600 million dollars.”
“Nope, I just invested it,” you corrected as you exited the hidden backdoor you had built into the system while you were supposed to be scanning the Online Portal last night. “And if Adam or Kristian report the money missing then they will have to somehow explain where the money came, something I am sure they don’t want the authorities looking into.”
“There’s still billions more just sitting there! Why don’t you just take it?” Max pleaded and you saw the manic gleam to his eyes. He was hooked, like a heroin addict, he was addicted to this life and would stop at nothing for his next fix.
“Because I’m not like you.” You realised that there would be too much temptation for someone to copy your code to keep the backdoor in place in the system so you erased it before closing the laptop shut. “It’s over, Max.”
“You really had me fooled,” he chuffed as he rose to his feet and this time the guard let him.
“Doesn’t feel great does it?”
Max ran his tongue across his teeth before pointing to Louis blocking the door. “Are we done here or what? It’s been a long night.”
Dev nodded his head to Louis and the man moved aside for Max who paused on the other side. “I trust your new friend can help you get back to New York, forgive me for not wanting to take you there myself.”
“I can manage just fine on my own.”
“So I have found,” he muttered as he sauntered off down the stairs.
“Wait,” you shouted and rushed after him as you remembered something. “You should have these.” You pulled the engagement ring and wedding band from your finger and tossed them to where he had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Sell them if you need the money that badly.”
He stared as the rings resting in his palms, the diamonds sparkling in the laser lights that escaped the door to the stripclub that was beginning to close. His shaking fist closed tightly around them before he threw his head back with a bitter laugh and tossed the worthless rings out into the street.
“Goodbye, Maxwell Burnett,” you said as he turned to the dark streets and you watched his silhouette until it disappeared.
Six Months Later
“Nature vs Nurture. What makes us function as we do? How is our cognitive reasoning influenced? Are we wired to behave the way we do through inherited genes or from the environment we are subject to? These are the questions I want you to think about before we return next semester. For now, enjoy your vacation and happy holidays.”
The classroom was far smaller than the auditorium you had lectured in at Fordham University but you had settled happily into life at Boston College. You closed your textbook as the room quickly emptied, each student eager to leave campus for the term. You couldn’t blame them, you were just as ready to take a break after the year you had endured.
Shoving your book in your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and pushed away the thoughts that encroached uninvited. Every now and again you wondered where Max was, what trouble he was getting up to. You couldn’t help it. He was your first love and no matter how many years passed he could still worm his way into your thoughts, perhaps he always would. So long as he stayed out of your life, you could handle the rest.
The bang of the door closing had you jump and you spun around too quickly, your heavy bag throwing you off balance, but a strong pair of hands caught your waist and kept you upright.
“Everything okay?” Dev asked with a frown before scanning the room to see if there was a reason you were on edge.
“Lost track of time in my own little world. I’m fine,” you reassured him with a quick kiss. “What are you doing here anyway?”
Dev pulled out his phone as he explained, “Your program got another hit, it found them.” A pixelated image of two young women appeared on the screen, taken from an ATM security camera, but the facial recognition matched the last two of Dev’s dancers that had gone missing months ago. “It was taken in Kosovo. Louis’ gone to check it out before he calls Agape but it will take him a while to get there.” Dev’s excitement was palpable as he pocketed the device and wrapped you in his arms.
The bag slipped from your shoulder and thudded to the ground but you didn’t care as you threw your arms around his neck and squealed with joy.
“I just had to come and tell you the news,” he murmured between kisses. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Max was right - you couldn’t just go back to the mundane life of a professor. But you couldn’t be like him either, cold and calculating without remorse. You chose to be better, you chose to do better.
“I told you we would bring them home.”
Matt Bomer as Dev:
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
SHERLOCK: VALENTINES DAY HEADCANONS <3
• "It's valentines day?"
• That's how the morning had begun. With John exasperatedly running a hand down his face as he tried his best not to shout at his flat mate
• He had been reminding Sherlock that valentines day was coming up for the past week and a half, adiment on getting him out of the flat to go out and do something for once. You were in on it as well, giving Greg the heads up not to send any cases Sherlocks way for the day
• So of course John was a bit pissed when he found Sherlock hard at work at what used to be the dining room table, hunched over some of Moriarty's latest work instead of getting ready for the day
• "Yes its bloody valentines day. Sometimes I wonder how you can be so smart but so fucking oblivious at the same time."
• "Not oblivious, John. I meerly have no room in my brain for such trivial things. And the holiday occasion would certainly explain why Moriarty's latest crime was littered with rose petals and the hearts of the victims. Thank you John, that was percicly what I needed."
• "I know you're being serious right now, but I have never wanted to punch you in the mouth more."
• "You wouldn't be the first."
• Eventually, two hours after John and you had originally planned to drag Sherlock away from his work, the doctor finally got him out the door—where you had been standing for quite a while waiting
• He immediately sighed before outwardly deducing the both of you. Probably just to get on John's nerves even more if you had to guess from how red the latter's face was
• "Ah. I see what's going on. You two have devised a plan behind my back to take me out to some rather bland coffee shop or restaurant today in hopes that I will join into your mindless banter. Now I think I'll pas—"
• "Nope." You had popped the p on the end of your sentence, speaking before John could blow a gasket. "You're coming with us, Holmes. Come on, we're going to that fish and chips place you like. I'll even let you talk about the case I'm sure you stayed up late working on while we walk."
• That had gotten him to start following you down the street, breath showing up as cold puffs of air in the freezing england morning
• True to your word, you had let him talk about the case all along the way there as John occasionally put in his two cents
• "—and you know this all is making a lot more sense now that I'm out and seeing the affect this holiday has on people. I never pegged Moriarty as someone to go for something so trivial, but then again that's just another devious—"
• "Wait, what do you mean trivial?"
• Sherlock paused, both in his rambling and walking, before picking up his pace much slower
• "Well, amongst the blood and roses we found at the crime scene a few short days ago, there was a note for me. Per usual. But this time an actual one, fancy parchment and all. Detailing how I'd eventually loose, how we play cat and mouse, getting odly sexual I might add, that sort of thing blah blah blah. But what really stummped me—" He ignored the way you and John exchanged amused glances when he admitted that "—was the innuendo he left for you, (Y/n). I assume it was to throw me off in a similar fashion to Irene Adler's tactics but—"
• "Hold on." John stopped him in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes wide. "You're telling me, the most dangerous man we know left one of your best friends a note flirting with them, and you didn't think to tell then until valentines day?"
• Sherlock clearly didn't think much of John's steadily increasing tone, just raising an eyebrow in response
• "I didn't see the need to. They have never met before like you and he have at that pool. No reason to worry. Simply a move to get under my skin. Which did not work, I should add."
• You had to choke down laughter at the befuddled look on Sherlocks face, not sure John would appreciate you finding humor in the situation
• The rest of the holiday outing was spent with the two arguing; most of it coming from John as he worried. It wasn't the worst entertainment you had ever had over coffee, so you didn't mind watching your friend fret over something that didn't even concern you. Moriarty had never even known of you until what seemed like recently, so you didn't see reason to fear
• "That's it. You're staying in the flat with us this week. I'm not letting that bastard lay a finger on any of us again." John eventually said, throwing his hands up.
• "Oh come on. It was just a fake out from Mr. Jimmy boy. You heard Sherlock say it himself."
• "Please (Y/n), never call Moriarty that again. And John, leave them be. They're a grown adult."
• "Thank you, Sherlock!"
• "You're welcome (Y/n). Like I was saying, you can move into our flat on your own. No help required from us."
• "You too Sherlock. Really?"
#sardonics valentines day event ♡#sherlock bbc x reader#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#john watson#john watson x reader#john watson x y/n#john watson x you#jim moriarty#jim moriarty x reader#jim moriarty x you#jim moriarty x y/n#headcanons#fluff#x reader
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 2
Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc
read chapter 1 here
warnings | 18+ angst, canon-typical violence
a/n | A shorter chapter. Still very much in the exposition but we learn a little more about our girl!
“I’m like Ellie.”
Those are the words that keep replaying in Joel’s mind. Her words. That, and the image of her mottled back, the grave scars and the swirling black ink on top of them. They've made it back to town, only after promising she'd talk to him later that night, so long as he kept her secret. He had asked her who else knew and she had told him only Tommy and Maria and the men you came to Jackson with. Suddenly she wasn't so cold, practically begging him not to tell anyone. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had been on the verge of tears.
He’s supposed to go to her house tonight, to get some more answers. He feels like his head is spinning because suddenly, there’s another person like Ellie. Someone else immune. He understands why she wants this kept secret. It’s the same reason he feels the pull to protect Ellie. She's valuable, and that makes her dangerous.
He gets to her house late, already dark out. The curtains are shut but faint light seeps out along the edges. She lives with Alex and Steve, and it’s one of the two who answer the door when he knocks, although Joel can’t be sure which.
“Miller, what can I help you with?” The young man crosses his arms over his chest, making himself a little bigger, a little grimmer. He’s the one that can sometimes coax you down to the bar in town, Joel’s seen him even pull a smile out of you.
“He’s here to talk with me, Steve, it’s alright.” She comes up behind her companion, squeezing his shoulder. The two of them share a look before Steve steps back, sulking back into the house.
“I didn’t realize he was your bodyguard.” She snorts at that, shrugging her shoulder to invite him in. “He means well.”
“Where’s the other one?” She tells him that Alex is on patrol tonight, letting him follow her down the hall to what he assumes is her room. She closes the door behind him. It’s sparse, a mattress on the floor, an old wicker rocking chair, and a few stacks of clothes. What draws his attention are the stacks of books next to her bed. She must have been picking those up for ages to have so many collected.
She sits at the end of your bed and motions for him to sit in the chair. “Well, I told you I’d give you answers. So start asking questions.”
“Where’d you get all that ink?”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Joel huffs. He’s not really sure where to start, that’s just the first thing that came out.
She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. “Alex, he was an artist before – well, before. When I met him he had a gun made out of an old sewing machine motor, making his own ink out of ash and witch hazel. I’d let him practice on me. Figured anything would be better than what was already there.”
Quiet descends again. Joel wracks his brain, trying to find some thread of sanity, what to ask her next.
“That doesn’t sound real safe,” she fully laughs at that, pressing her palms into her thighs to stand up. “Look, if you just came to ask me questions about my tattoos, this conversation can be over right now and I can be out of here by tomorrow morning and no one has to know anything.”
“Listen, I’m trying to figure this all out too. I’m still having a hard time believing what I saw, what you told me. But I don’t see why you’re getting ready to fly the fucking coop. You got a good thing going here.”
Joel’s up on his feet and suddenly they're both in each other’s faces.
“Yeah, I do have a good thing going here, and I think you know better than most what a secret like mine can do to a good thing. I’m not gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat, do you understand?” Joel swallows, “another?”
“What?”
“You said you weren’t gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat. Is that what all those bites are from?” Joel doesn’t need an answer, he’s already got it in the way she shrinks back, gaze skittering to the ground. Something in him twinges at that.
“Does Ellie know about you?” She looks up at him again, shaking her head.
“I told you already. Only Alex, Steve, Tommy, and Maria know. And now, unfortunately, you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, letting out a long exhale.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone, you know. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Joel tries to sound genuine, but feels like he ends up coming off like a dope. “For some reason I’m inclined to believe you.” She sits back down on the edge of her bed, Joel leans back against the wall.
“Is that why you go out on those raids?” She looks up at him, questioning. “You’re immune. Feel like you can go out and play hero or somethin’?” She prickles at that, hardening her eyes into a glare.
“Hardly. I just need to get away from all this. It’s good. But it’s not real. Out there? That’s what’s real.” She's looking down at her hands, mumbling out the last of it. It’s quiet for a moment. Joel can understand that. That feeling like everything’s gonna fall out from under you eventually, because it always has, and you have to be ready for that inevitable plummet.
He studies her for a moment. The slope of her nose, her eyelashes falling over the tops of her cheeks. He thinks to himself that she would’ve been pretty, back before. Now, she's something else entirely, something that makes his breath kick in a way he’d be hard pressed to admit.
“You got any other questions?”
“Is Steve your – your man?” That one draws a laugh out of her that makes Joel reel. “You really ask the dumbest shit, you know that?” He hardly hears what she says, too focused on the waft of a smile across her face.
“I don’t have a man, Joel Miller. Just really important friends.” With that, she stands up, tilting her head as if to say are we done here? “So you’re gonna keep my secret?”
He nods, “you don’t have to worry about it, I will.”
She lets out another long sigh, opening her door and walking him back to her porch. As Joel’s walking out, he turns on his heel, “can I ask you one more thing?” She looks at him, expectantly.
“Why does everyone around here call you the saint?”
“You’re out of questions. Good night, Joel.”
#joel miller angst#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#fanfic
180 notes
·
View notes
Text
— a mutual intoxication
characters: dazai osamu, you
notes: implied toxic unlabeled past relationship, idk what this is beyond that, ive been doing some p stupid shit lately i needed dazai to shake me out of it. also my e key has issues so there may b missing lettrs
song: Los Borrachos (I Don't Have Any Hope Left But The Weather Is Nice) by Car Seat Headrest i think?? im notsure
Turning your phone off with a sigh, you close your eyes, sensing that presence hovering over your shoulder a little too late.
You have grown rusty, it seems, for he stands like that, too close for comfort, close enough for you to feel his breath and his eyes glued on the black screen of your phone.
“Look who’s here!”
Dazai Osamu exclaims giddily as he makes a turn around and slides right next to you. As if its some mere coincidence the two of you ran into one another and not something he foresaw before you even decided to drop by this cafe.
And so Dazai settles down, makes himself comfortable, easing in and blending into your side, to the environment.
A quick look shot his way, at your phone and the people idling in the cafe, you wait and wait, swallow down each second thats been passing.
And he catches it no matter how quick.
Of course he would, this is Dazai after all. Nothing gets past his senses, his wicked perception, his inituition.
Dazai's presence right here, right now means only one thing: That he has won.
Or so, he thinks. And once he does, it is the truth and absolute truth, even despite the circumstances preventing it, he will make sure to eradicate.
So far his voice falls deaf on your ears, as often was the case in your past, just a background noise to fill the air and nothing else–
"Someone has been busy, hm?" his coo leaves you on the edge, and you have half a mind to not jolt up or shoot another glance by your phone.
You know this.
You know Dazai, he is just doing what he does best, you are better than this: giving him what he seeks.
"So, what are they like? Have they been helping you with that itch on your brain that needs a good scratch?"
It shouldn't sting when you have grown used to it, but it does, just a little.
Not because he is right– he is, that's another issue, but because you're still doing that after all that time.
A little attention never killed anyone, that part of your brain reasons but another is quick to remind you of all those myths and tragedies of Greece.
It is nowhere as satisfactory as the real thing obviously, but even messages of sweet words and praises gets you going– though you hate to admit it, that you like this, you relish on this, the high of it.
Bonus points when the compliments are not the typical ones you can see everywhere, when the terms of endearment and what follows them sound to be thought over.
Lips pulled tight, you only stare at Dazai without a word.
"Not deserving of your voice? Not even the scoldings?" he tilts his head to the side with a smirk.
Bandaged hand over the table moves on its own.
They seem fresh, you cannot help but make a note of. Perhaps he came across a discount recently. There is no way in hell he would pay for these. Not when he has the agency's stash to raid, or you to buy and apply a fresh set.
His weird unique way of showing vulnerability, in his own way. But how can you blame the man?
He was already a mess when the two of you met.
Finger swiped over the screen, he taps the passcode, only to be left alone with the lockscreen.
Head turned to face you, another smirk that says "I'm impressed."
thanks no thanks, i don't need your compliments, you want to say.
you are not worried per se, you do not owe your piece of shit of an ex any explanation.
how things will turn out however, has you wondering. You know Dazai, but there are times when even you're at a loss of predicting his mind.
Friend of a friend– you doubt he knows that friend in th first place. Maybe their social media profiles at most but that's not much to go by.
The phone comes to life then– of course it had to be th fingerprint you had forgotten about.
Yet Dazai only seems pleasant at th turn of events. From your expression, he can tell this was not intentional but where's the fun if he doesn't go around claiming you were always waiting for him to return to your loving embrace.
"Not good enough apparently."
you whip your head at his voice, confusion clear on your face.
"Since you're sitting here alone all by yourself, not even on a call or texting." he shrugs as if he is explaining something simple, some truth of life to a kid.
"And do pray tell, Dazai, how am i supposed to text or talk when you have my phone?" you don't realize your teeth grithing.
To your reaction he only offers a grin, aware you know the answer as well as him.
even now, him going through your phone is old news. He did that before, and so did you– returning the favor.
If you wanted all his attention on himself, he demanded the same in return, give and take, until you suffocate.
and yet, even now that air stinging and filling your lungs does not hurt. the unbreathable toxic air is welcome in your lungs, an old friend you cannot shake off your life.
dull eyes ignore your question as they quickly go over chat histories, a little sneak at your photo roll without a doubt and side private accounts you keep limited to few people in your life.
with a sigh, he turns the device off and tosses it back on the table, leaning on his back, relaxing entirely. "My, my– and here I was worried you had forgotten all about me."
You had, as a matter of fact, yet you doubt he'd take your word for it, not when he has something brewing in his head to prove. Whaatever it may be, you know it won't end up in your favor.
"Now I just feel bad," that indifferent tone of his rings loud and clear.
hah! as if he is in any position to feel bad for your sake, what an awful attempt at a joke.
"Darling, you deserve better than that." "And that 'better' is supposed to be you?" you retort without missing a beat, annoyance clear in your voice.
"Well," he drags the word with a tilt of his head, gaze locked on the ceiling as if it's the wide blue sky instead, "Not saying I'm the best you've had, surely there are plenty of fish in the sea,"
a lie, you are aware, what he truly says is 'your words, not mine'.
"You deserve someone to match your wits." he concludes.
When you turn to look at his face, you see him sliding down slightly, head thrown back and resting.
even when complimenting, he makes sure to cast the hook where he wants it, all he has to do is sit and wait.
and hate yourself just as much, you know it has worked, that he is right. As exhasuting as it was to be ...something with Dazai Osamu, it was exciting, keeping the adrenaline rushing constantly, the ups and downs, highs and lows, the clashing and the sudden unision in the face of anything else.
"Not some sorry excuse of a person who cannot even pick up on one third of the things and teasings you say."
this, you're unsure if it is the living and breathing Dazai that says it, or the little one nestling in the back of your hand, always making sure to remind you he will never leave you alone.
Th who of it does not matter though.
Bcause all the ticks and kcks of your relationship with him, it was the unspoken understanding you enjoyed more than anything.
A look is all it takes, a gesture is all he needs, no words spoken, no thoughts admitted out loud verbally.
With a mind as sharp and bright as Dazai's, he understood you more than anyone else.
But being understood is not the entirety of it.
that's where communication plays in after all.
and as bright as he may be, Dazai took this to his advantage, his vague tactics to keep you around.
Sweetness but not too much, attention just long enough to keep you waiting for more, at the ready with big eyes–
letting your shoulders drop and realizing the tension you had on this whole time, you lean back as well, mirroring the man next to you and letting your body fall toward his direction a little.
Who are you to judge Dazai Osamu when you haven't been any better?
maybe this is what you wanted this whole time, letting this 'break up' last longer than the prvious ghosting phases, ignoring him on purpose and seeking out a new source to keep you up.
you can feel an arm draping over you, not bothering to open your eyes. this, too, has become something you've grown all too familiar with– one of the dolce ones, even when th grip becomes tight– keeping the other locked in.
because for any chain Dazai has on you, he possesses a matching one.
He might be the human with the highest perception skills for all you care– you know him, and that speaks for itself.
back and forth, it's a never ending dance of teasing, stepping on toes on purpose, pretending to have gotten bored in the middle only to surprise the second party with a sudden spin and bending of the waist– leaning in, nose to nose, until your visions blur into nothing but each other, and the mess you have left in your trail.
#didnt end this exactly in th way i wanted but i think this one is better#u can pretend he says mst lik 'ill makeu forget abt thm in no time' and ur inner monologue smt abt how thres no need for this already#uh anyays#bungou stray dogs#dazai osamu#felizai#menthol ellness<3#dazai x reader#dazai x you#bsd x you#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x you#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#gender neutral reader
177 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I've just read 20/20 and it's so good👓
May I just say that I admire the way you write not only in general, but also that you write Pedro characters fanfiction without massive age gap? I like those too, but god, there are tons of it and it became sooo hard to find Joel (bc 80% of age gap fics is about Joel) being happy with a woman of his age.
I happen to think more and more lately that older women seem more real, thus more interesting to read - young girls are all pretty with their sexy young bodies, etc., and the older you get, the more insecurities you have, and you believe somebody like Joel or Ben has plenty of options when in fact they probably want somebody to feel comfortable with, somebody who they can laugh with *looks at Lydia*
I guess, sometimes young reader is too perfect. How could real person like me ever compete with that? Imperfect characters are comforting and real (they suffer to make us feel better, they're our heros) and they evoke real feelings, you care about them. That's why I love to read non-age gap work when I see one.
Anyway, sorry for rambling, thank you!!🤍
*throws hearts at you and running away*
First, thank you so much for the lovely words about my writing! Here are some hearts in return: 💜💜💜
Honestly, this kind of ask means the world. I’m so grateful and so honoured.
A warning: this will be a long answer. Sorry!
I genuinely felt emotional when I read your words about my decision to write in a way that is either no/minimal age gap or where the reader’s age isn’t specified (because this is possible, and is arguably far more inclusive for reader insert). I particularly like that you’ve chosen to focus on why older OFCs/reader characters are more interesting, rather than on the extreme age gap trope.
I can’t deny that the age gap trope is the dominant one in this fandom’s fic at the moment - most obviously for Joel, but also for other characters. And I sometimes wonder if Visiting would have more notes and engagement if Lydia was a student, not Ben’s contemporary and perfect equal - intellectually, emotionally, in every way.
But as you say: Lydia has a life, has lived, and is imperfect physically and emotionally, like us all. She’s interesting for all those reasons, and more. That’s why Ben is drawn to her, and she to him. (I sometimes wonder how people would feel if the age gap trope was reversed, with a much older OFC paired with a younger P boy…)
This is also why characters like @fuckyeahdindjarin’s Cee and Sugar, in Seams and Palomino respectively, or @lunapascal’s Andie in Curls, or @julesonrecord’s Eva in Shots, or @iamskyereads Beatrice in Compulsion, or the many other no age gap/no age specified characters and reader inserts in the fanfic are so gorgeously engaging. You get it - they’re real.
They’re not all thin, pert, visions of youth as beauty and beauty as youth. Ageing is a privilege, and it hurts me, really and truly, to see the implication that only youth is attractive in so much of the fanfic in a fandom dedicated to a man who has aged so beautifully.
I know people who have been subjected to anonymous abuse over this issue, which insists they’re just angry old women because “hot celebs won’t fuck you”.
I’m passionate about this for all sorts of reasons. I am more than a little unsettled by the vision of Joel, in particular, as exclusively attracted to much, much younger girls. I sometimes feel that some of the explanations for why age gap is good or better are somewhat problematic (that’s just my opinion, before anyone yells at me, but it’s rooted in experience and the fact that I work with many college-aged people and know the consequences of the age gap fantasy when it hits reality). And there are broader implications for the message being sent to younger readers about ageing, attraction, and female sexuality, which my feminist brain is furious about.
Finally, I am struck by the fact that we often see posts about how the fic world is a broad tent, and that there’s room for everything. Yet when people ask for more fic that doesn’t repeat the age gap trope, or some of us write fics that explicitly avoid that, there’s a reaction against that.
Sigh. You see why you didn’t need to apologise for rambling, for I am a rambling Rose, and endlessly grateful for your kind words and wonderful support. Here’s to a more diverse menu of fic on the dash - the tide does seem to be turning. You may have seen the post that’s been doing the rounds where @tessa-quayle has very helpfully compiled a list of fic that doesn’t involve an age gap or DBF/daddy thing - it’s really good on the need for more diverse reading.
PS: a more general query for the dash: is this such a massive trope in other 40-something male actor fandoms??
#I’m really passionate about this topic#as you can tell#if there’s room for all kinds then there’s room for all kinds#including work that just doesn’t mention an age#or explicitly shows the OFC/reader insert as older than the 20-something norm#just struck by people going on the defensive as soon as anyone does some posts compiling no age gap/no age fic#hmmmmm#writing thoughts#support your local fanfic writer
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
I was denied reasonable accommodations because I applied for them too late. It’s not my fault I didn’t get my diagnosis until recently but apparently it was too late to get reasonable accommodations. It gets really frustrating and tiring, living in a system that isn’t built for almost all of your identities. Other than my gender and able-bodiedness, I have to explain and fight for all of my identities everywhere I go in mainstream society. And my other identities interact with my gender and able-bodiedness in negative ways. My ethnicity and muscular build make people assume I’m a gangmember. My autistic brain, already struggling with social cues, has to factor in the non-verbal communication my outfit, walk, and stimming and other mannerisms convey to actual gangmembers and police officers. Lest I get harassed, beat, or worse by them. When I’m in the club I have to worry about the way I dance for the same reason. I also have to worry about the times I get overstimulated at the club or go non-verbal. People at the club, and even other contexts, often assume consent to very sexual touching. Often it’s this touching that sends me over the edge into non-verbalness or overstimulation. And because they assume consent it means they keep going and because I’m non-verbal/overstimulated I’m unable to really do or say anything. And because Im a muscular, able bodied latino man I’m expected to be able to advocate for myself and the assumption is that this is what I want and wanted. Even when it’s not. It just becomes all so traumatic, isolating, and for some reason I don’t fully understand yet, it’s mostly just tiring. Sometimes I wish these things didn’t happen, that I was born different, that i didn’t have to go through the trauma and tribulations that I have had to go through. But despite that, I have come to mostly respect, appreciate and be grateful for these things that I used to wish never happened. Stephen Colbert once said, “what punishments of god are not gifts?” Everybody suffers and is hurt. In those times of hurt we like to hear from other people that we’re not alone; that other people have suffered similarly. We can form the strongest bonds with the people who have gone through similar traumas by talking and expressing ourselves to eachother. Because of these experiences, I am able to do that with so many people. I’ve been able to be there for my friends, countless of them, in their times of need at every stage of my life because I could empathize with them so well. I have been blessed to be able to share my stories of trauma and healing with other people. Little else makes me happier than hearing a family member or a friend telling me about a time I was there for them during one of their hard times. Some gifts require a lot of work and hardship to be able to receive. Connecting on that level is one of them. That’s why “I have come to love the things that I once wished had not happened.”
#tw trauma#tw assault#tw racsim#tw grief#life#stephen colbert#the colbert report#blogging#words of wisdom#neurodiverse stuff#neurodivergent#autistic experiences#being autistic#autistic things#actually autistic#autistic community#autistic adult#autistic spectrum#autism#masking#intersectionality#racial justice#racial profiling#griefandloss#grief/mourning#grief journal#trauma#understanding#trauma bonding#this is how i cope
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: SEASON 3, EPISODE 2: HAUNTED LEG-TUMBLR IS HUNGIE AND KEEPS EATING MY POSTS
The Netflix synopses (synopseses? Synposi? Where are you, Jess Mariano? You're my only hope) made this episode seem like it was going to be heavily En-Crusty'd (Christopher focused) but then the lovely @frazzledsoul told me that in this episode Rory takes Christopher to school (metaphorically) and this is also the episode where Jess takes RORY down a peg in a GLORIOUS confrontation at Doose's Market. If there's one thing I love seeing in Gilmore GIrls it's a good peg lowering. In fact, it gives me such immense satisfaction to see Rory in particular get taken down a peg that the three times Dean does it to her are the only times I actually side with Dean.
Let the Notch-Taking-Down Party commence.
But first....Happy 18th birthday, Jess! You're legal, mister! I am solidly and forever in the Late August/ Early September Birthday Camp (I have my reasons) and we're already there on the show! It's been almost a year since he arrived in Stars Hollow as a 17 year old! I'm gonna make it easy and say it was September 1st.
Now you can visit the strip club, and buy porn and cigarettes legally! You're a man now! (well, at least you could buy cigarettes at 18 years old 20 years ago. It's 21 now).
Episode begins with Emily still being predictably salty about last week's FND, where Lorelai snuck out of the house while her parents were fighting over her breakup with Crusty.
Don't listen to her. You do can do whatever you want, even while you're on the clock. My little shmushkins. My apple dumpling. My peach tart. My banana muffin. My jelly donut. You're gonna make a bazillion dollars with your books some day and show em all. *pinches his cheeks*
Lorelai is coming down with an illness which I shall diagnose as mononucleosis (aka the kissing disease) that she contracted from making out with Dean Forrester.
Lorelai has no qualms about leaving the house to eat out every single day in a crowded diner and spread her germs all over town, instead of keeping her ass in bed, I guess. She's also incapable of purchasing and opening a can of soup and dumping it in a pot on the stove (or hell, even sticking it in the microwave) so she wakes up each day and chooses to be a Disease Vector. If she wasn't (presumably) still married to Luke in 2020 to cook her meals for her at home I don't know how she survived the pandemic.
Luke: You know what helps a cold? A healthy immune system. You know how to get a healthy system? By not eating crap and blowing out your brain cells with coffee. Eat a vegetable now and then or some high fiber cereal. At least eat the carrots in the soup?
Three minutes in and he's already Insulting Lorelai (while, uh, also insulting himself at the same time?) Whee, I'm loving this episode already! More Peg-Lowering, please! Several people on this show are going to be HUMBLED and I am HERE for it.
But why is Luke always downselling food that he puts on his own menu? I know Lorelai and Rory don't ever pay him anyway, but doesn't he want to attempt to make some money? "My food will make you fat and sick and kill your brain cells. Don't eat it. Go eat somewhere else." Or is it that he's a-okay with poisoning the rest of Stars Hollow with copious amounts of junk food but wants to spare Lorelai and Rory the same fate? One would also suppose he doesn't actually have said vegetables or fiber rich cereal on his menu in the first place (it's a fucking diner) and that would mean Lorelai would have to pour herself her own cereal at home. Perish the thought.
Is Luke secretly some kind of California Hipster in denial? Would he be more at home opening some kind of vegan cafe where he serves wheat grass shots and kombucha and avacado toast, you know, all the stuff Milo Ventimiglia eats. (But Milo’s a big junk food junky too, he's a bit of a paradox, that man). What does he feed Jess, by the way? In his first appearance he was planning to stuff his already neglected and malnourished nephew full of Corn Flakes and Pop Tarts.
Grandpa here is going to live to be 115 probably, but only if you shut up, you're already sending him to an early grave.
EVERYONE STOP EATING AND TALKING. THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED!
Anyone else think its funny that Lorelai and Rory and Luke are ilke the mayors of Stars Hollow who know everything down to when the mailman's dog farts but nobody knows who Shane is, where she came from, who her family is, when she moved in, where she lives, how she ended up with Jess...ANYTHING? Nobody even seems to know her name? Silence from Miss Patty and Babette?
Lane and Dean never informed Rory that Jess was never in school, that he supposedly pulled the fire alarm, stole 500 baseballs, etc etc. again, shouldn't Lane be absolutely losing her mind to spill this piping hot tea that Jess has been hooking up with some mysterious blond skankbag all summer? And Dean too, shouldn't he always be dying to tell Rory anything that would cast Jess in an unfavorable light and make her think less of him? What is with this town where they'll hold an emergency meeting because he drew on a sidewalk with some chalk but when he actually does something worth talking about, nobody wants to narc on him? They fear him, that's what it is.
What is Shane's last name by the way? I made up a poll and asked you to decide on her last name and I'm currently awaiting the results, which I will use going forward.
Jess and Shane continue to give Rory Gilmore a sexual awakening so immense it could knock our fucking solar system out of alignment. That boom you just heard was Jupiter and Saturn crashing into one another from the sheer force of Rory Gilmore's quivering loins.
Tomatos Sign.
I wonder how much money Jessica Kiper was paid to stick her tongue in Milo's mouth and say "Hey" and "Jess". Did she have to audition? I would do the job for free. I would keep screwing up just so the director could yell "Cut" and I could do as many takes as possible. Warner Brothers could own me for the rest of my life just for that opportunity.
Meow! All she did was say his name, lol. Someone's cranky. You know what would cure that bad mood? A good handjob from Shane (last name soon to be announced).
This whole "no strings attached sexual gratification" deal that was seemingly dropped in his lap? Meh, whatever. He'll do it, but he'll be reading the entire time.
Meanwhile, this is Dean waiting 5 years for Rory to put out:
(By the way, Mr. Mariano, don't ever tell a woman to "relax")
Jess sighs and leaves in the middle of his shift (Lorelai should be proud), leaving his customers wondering where their pancakes are, to go have sex with Shane somewhere public and indecent, leaving Rory in their horny wake. Perhaps Jess has the intuition that the cold, clammy, looming hand of Celibacy (aka his own hand and a jumbo size bottle of lotion) will soon be upon him so he better seize these opportunities.
Love it when she says shit like this as if her boyfriend Dean Forrester is some fucking chatterbox (he'll grunt a few words as he's also a typical teenage boy like Jess and she'll go "That's So INTERESTING Dean! Do go on. I love you, little buttered croissant"), and also like she should actually expect Jess to talk around her when he knows she's going to pick on him even worse if he does have something to say.
Too late.
That's hilarious- I forgot that Dean was about to show up just now and prove my point.
She's still wearing that stupid quarter on a string on her wrist. I will give this show credit for being very consistent with some of the small details like this. Every day for 2+ years straight, Alexis Bledel shows up at Wardrobe and they slap that thing on her wrist.
That cup is HUGE.
Yeah. What?
I could teach a comatose goldfish to say "I already ate breakfast." The hell is your point?
Oh god. It's that episode where Kirk and Lorelai go on a "Date". I do not remember how it goes but I'm gonna take a stab in the dark here and predict that it was sufficiently awkward.
Honestly...Lorelai has done MUCH worse before and will continue to do much worse than Kirk. Mommy issues aside, Kirk has more redeeming qualities than Max or Crusty. Like, at least Kirk is ambitious. Lorelai is still only a few months removed from banging Crusty who wouldn't know the meaning of hard work if it bit him in the ass. I hope something bites Crusty in the ass. Like a rabid possum.
Kirk...."Let's go out...In two weeks. I heard you have a cold. It takes two weeks for a virus to leave the immune system."
He's also smart and would survive the pandemic.
"You might be the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Outside of a filthy magazine."
It's the first day of senior year for Rory and our other Stars Hollow teens.
It's all downhill for Rory after high school.
Nobody tell her.
L: I cannot go out with Kirk!
R: Why not?
L: He's Kirk!
Poor Neurodivergent Kirk.
Fixed it.
i was about to say "What the what! Lorelai is actually pouring her own cereal?" but it's Rory wno's making her own breakfast and Lorelai is just pouring marshmallows into the bowl (who does that? That's not a thing. Here in The United States of America, there are already cereals that come with marshmallows). I mean, at least she's eating at home and "helping". Good for you for helping to feed to your chiild, Lorelai. Even if she's eschewing the (marginally) more healthy Raisin Bran in favor of Rice Krispies.
I'm going to add a new feature to the ends of these posts: I call it:
Things Googled While Watching GIlmore GIrls.
Birthday Party Icons, How Old To Buy CIgarettes in Connecticut, Definition of Proclivities, How Many Words Can A Parrot Learn
#denise rewatches gilmore girls#haunted leg#gilmore girls season 3#lorelai gilmore#rory gilmore#luke danes#jess mariano#Shane#Kirk Gleason#Happy Birthday Jess#My Sweet Little Virgo Boy#My LIttle Bowl Of Rice Krispies with Marshmallows#Birthday Smooches#I was watching the marhsmallows thing and thinking#AmyShermanPalladino might not actually be an Earthling#Human Beings do not eat Parmesan sprinkle cheese raw from the can either#nor did teenagers in 2001 make copious references to 1950’s television shows#it takes 50 years for television signals to reach Amy’s home planet so that’s why she’s behind
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
His Biggest Fan
pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+
Word Count: 7.2k
summary: Peter Parker was your best friend while Spider-Man was your crush. Little did you know, they were the same person, and you were about to find out.
a/n: sorry for the hiatus! i’ve been tired lately, which makes it harder for me to use my brain and write lol. but thank you for the request, and i hope you enjoy it!
[ask is posted below]
“Can you believe this?” You almost laughed at your iPhone. You and Peter were sat in your small, off campus apartment.
“What?” He questioned, looking up from his laptop for a moment. Knowing Peter, he was probably doing homework or something.
“Spider-Man- The Daily Bugle,” You informed, “They want to unmask him, know who he is because they think he’s not a hero,”
“Yeahhh,” Peter drew out, “Bad idea really, like who even cares who the guy is,”
“What?” You spoke, talking with your hands. You thew your hands towards Peter, watching him stiffen, “Who cares?” Your voice drew out, “He’s like, really fit and amazing at his job,” You rambled, stirring creamer in a cup of black coffee, “He does all that shit for free. Right? Like he doesn’t get paid- that’s sweet of him. I sure as hell wouldn’t bust my ass for free,”
“Yeah,” Peter spoke, “He definitely doesn’t get paid,” He laughed, thinking about his current student debt, “Also, first thing you think of is how good he looks?”
“I’m just being honest,” You spoke, “I’m sure he knows that and I bet that suit helps,”
“Helps?” Peter questioned with a small laugh, “With what?”
“Girls,” You answered, watching your friend’s head whip towards you, “What? He has to be getting laid,”
“No-” Peter began to admit, forgetting for a moment that you did not know his secret, “I mean, what? Why? Like you’d-” His words fell short as he heard you choke on your coffee at his claim, “Wait-”
“I never said-” It was too late to cover your ass. You just basically confessed that you had some sort of feelings for Spider-Man, “I mean- I’m sure everyone thought about it at least once,”
Peter no longer looked your way, “How many times have you thought about it?”
“Peter-” You groaned.
“What? We’re friends, if you like Spider-Man you should tell me,” Peter tested the water, “Friends tell their friends stuff like that, right?” He would be lying if he said he did not have a crush on you. Like, a huge crush on you. The two of you were close, having met freshman year of college. Over a year of knowing each other, it felt like a lifetime. You were comfortable around Peter, the two of you sharing affectionate, yet friendly, touches.
You would tell Peter about your crush on Spider-Man, but Peter had never shared his feelings about other girls before, so why should you? Little did you know, the reason why was because Peter did not have feelings for other girls, but for you, “A few times, I guess,” You shrugged, “but I mean, only because you saying that is making me think about it right now,”
Now, Peter was thinking about it too. He never really thought about fucking you in his suit before, but he sure as hell daydreamed about doing so many other things to you. Did that make him gross? You were his best friend and, not to mention, way out of his league, “So you’d sleep with him?”
Peter watched as you stared at him, eyebrows furrowed, “I like him a lot more than just wanting to fuck him,” You almost seemed offended by your tone of voice, “but I mean, sure. Not that it’ll ever happen but sure, yeah,” You watched Peter slip away into his thoughts. Studying his face, your eyes fell to every freckle that peppered his soft skin.
Sure, you were infatuated with Spider-Man, like you said, a lot of people probably are. But you saw the same qualities in Peter. He was like a hero without a suit, and you witnessed it first hand. You had a crush on Peter from the moment you met him on campus, but the closer the two of you had gotten, the sooner you realized that Peter did not see you in the same light. So, you fell for Spider-Man, someone who shared the same qualities and who could never reject you. Spider-Man had no idea you existed, something about that brought comfort and safety to your harmless crush.
Peter stared back at you, almost in a trance. Walking towards him, it did not faze him, his eyes studied you almost lovingly, “Hello?” You questioned, leaning into Peter’s face, “What are you thinking about? Fucking Spider-Man?” You joked.
No. He was thinking about fucking you. But he could never admit that. Could he? He watched as your hand closed his laptop, the screen his eyes were fixed on disappearing. That is when he turned his head towards you, realizing how close you truly were. At that point, even you were taken back by your close proximity. You felt Peter’s breath on your skin, his lips inches from your own.
“You’re not denying it,” You continued to speak, playfully. You wanted to kiss him. Every inch of you was begging to lean into him. He smelled of fresh laundry and the coffee you had just made for him, he probably tasted like the hazelnut creamer he put in his cup.
You were almost frozen in front of him as he stared at you. His gaze took in every inch of your face as you stared back. However, your gaze was distant, lost in thought. Little did Peter know, you were thinking about him. Your eyes fell to his lips and he wondered if that was some kind of signal, begging him to make the first move.
Leaning in, Peter’s mind wandered. He could just tell you right? You liked Spider-Man so maybe you could like him too. With each thought, he was closer and closer to your lips. Before either of you could process what was going on between the two of you, a loud crash was heard from outside your open window.
“Pete-” You spoke, eyes darting between his brown gaze. He pulled back, heard turning towards the window.
Peter sat still, studying his surroundings with his spider-sense, “Y/N,” Your name left his lips as he rose to his feet, “We need to go,”
“What? It could have just been a car crash or something,” You spoke, “Peterrrr,” You stepped closer to him. Your eyes studied the skin of his turned neck, eyes traveling to each of his brown freckles, “Hey,” You reached out, attempting to grab his attention. In doing so, your fingers fell against his hand. You watched as his head turned towards you, his gaze locking with you, “It’s fine-” Your words were drowned by another loud blast, however, this time your apartment shook around you.
“Y/N go-” Peter spoke, feeling your fingers wrap around his hand. You squeezed his sweaty palm, unable to move. Your eyes were screaming at him, feet plastered beneath you, “Y/N-” Another blast let Peter know that he needed to act fast, he just hoped that his actions would not reveal his secret. Pulling you towards him, he wrapped his hold around you. Pulling you off of your feet, his strength allowing him to carry you.
You stared at Peter, amazed by his strength but also his quick reflex. Your gaze was stolen by the sight of the building outside your window crumbling. Your eyes were fixed on the window as it grew farther and farther away as Peter rushed out of your apartment. Looking back at him, you met Peter’s eyes as he set you down in front of the staircase door.
“Go- down to the street,” He instructed as he propped open the door with its doorstop, “I’m going to make sure everyone on the floor knows what’s going on,”
“What?” You questioned, feeling the building shake again, “But what about-“ You were cut off by the sound of screams and apartment doors slamming, “Pete-“ You watched him disappear around the corner. You froze for a moment before turning the corner yourself. However, you were met with bodies running towards you, a few knocking into your shoulders, sending you stumbling back, “Peter,” He was nowhere to be seen and you wondered how he disappeared so quickly.
**
Peter hoped you would not return back to your apartment to find him digging his mask out of his beat-up backpack. Finding the fabric, he slipped it over his head before opening your window. Webbing the crumbling building, he swung out of your window and into the part of the building that still stood.
“Hey- Hey! Is anyone in here?” Peter questioned loudly. He scanned the collapsed room, unsure if anyone would have survived the collapse to begin with. Moving cautiously, he navigated through a doorway that still stood, making his way throughout the wreckage. Suddenly, he heard a shift coming from another collapsed apartment, “Hey- Hello?” He called out, “Does anyone need help?” Rushing into the room, he noticed movement under a. Pile of fallen bricks, “Hey-“ Beginning to dig through the collapse he slowly was able to make out two bodies. Under his mask, he locked eyes with a small child whose mother laid on top of, “Ma’am?” Peter questioned, placing a hand on the woman’s back lightly.
“My- my mom,” The young child spoke, out of breath. The weight of their mother pushed the words straight out of their lungs.
“It’s okay,” Peter spoke, “She’s just tired, you must be tired too,” He watched the child nod as he continued to remove the collapse that engulfed them, “You’ll be okay,” The child attempted to move but failed, “Hey- hey, it’s okay,”
“I can’t move my legs,” They cried, “Mom, mom! Mommy,” The building shook violently around them as Peter swore under his breath.
**
“Peter,” You called out, eyes searching the crowd that still gathered around the fully collapsed building. You were unsure why you did not realize it sooner, but you still checked for Peter on the street. The police cleared your building as safe to return to, you just wondered if Peter would have retired to your apartment.
You climbed the stairs since the elevators were turned off until they could be inspected. With each passing floor you added up the instances in your head. You were almost certain, Peter was Spider-Man.
Opening your door, your eyes instantly found your open window. Trailing your gaze, you turned your apartment’s short corner, eyes finding Peter reclined on your bed. His eyes were covered by a bag of frozen strawberries, “I was looking for you everywhere,” You spoke, watching Peter jump off the mattress slightly before landing back against the bed.
“You scared the shit out of me,” He spoke with a groan.
“I can never scare you,” You spoke slyly as you locked the door behind you, “Couldn’t sense me this time?”
“What?” Peter questioned.
“Next time, shut the window behind you. AC’s not cheap,” You added.
Peter was silent. However, his ears filled with the sound of his pounding heart.
“Friends tell each other stuff,” You paraphrased Peter’s previous claim, “You can tell me shit, Peter. You know?”
“I-I don’t know-“ Peter almost stuttered.
“How’d you get all those bruises?” You questioned, walking towards him. You felt your heart racing as he grew closer and closer. Your eyes scanned every inch of him, taking advantage of his obscured eyes.
“I fell down the stairs helping people out,” He lied. Realizing that was barely an excuse he continued, “and then I went into that building to help. But then the police showed up and dragged me out. Then May called and I couldn’t hear over all the noise so I came back up here. And then you showed up,”
“I showed up as soon as they cleared the building,” You spoke, “No one was allowed up here until like five minutes ago,”
“Yeah? Well,” Peter spoke, picking up the corner of the bag that sat on his, probably broken, nose, “Maybe they had to clear it again- cause they let me in here,”
“Yeah? Through my window?” You asked, “Funny how Spider-Man swung right out of it earlier,” You heard Peter groan, “Don’t lie to me, because I swear to god,”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” He spoke, basically confessing.
“You’re my friend,” You laughed almost sarcastically, “I worry about you no matter what. The fact that at some point I stopped asking about the cuts and bruises- You convinced me that you get bullied in college? Like- I’m an idiot! Because I bought it- I thought ‘yeah that makes sense’ like we’re in fucking high school,”
“I hate lying to you,” Peter spoke, attempting to sit up. But he did not make it too far, pain from his ribs running through his body. He would not be surprised if his ribs were broken, “But I just didn’t want you to worry or for someone to find out you knew my identity-“ His words fell short as the pain made him groan.
“Let me see,” You spoke.
“What?” Peter questioned, slightly moving the, now thawed, bag of strawberries.
“Let me see how bad it is,” You specified, “Where?”
“Where?” He smiled, feeling defeated. He watched you study his curled lips, “Okay but,” He paused, “I can’t really move. It’s my ribs, and my arms,” He tried pinpointing his pain but it came from everywhere, “and my legs… just everywhere I guess,”
Reaching out, your fingers pushed underneath the bottom hem of his shirt. His skin was softer than you imagined it would be. You had to mentally stop yourself from flattening your palm and trailing it across his toned body, “I thought you could take stuff like this?” You questioned, slowly pulling his shirt up his body, not wanting to cause him anymore pain, “Because of your powers or whatever,”
“Yeah but not when the whole building falls on me,” Peter laughed, however his smile faded when he felt your movement freeze.
“The what?” You questioned, concern lacing your tone, “Peter-” Pushing up the remainder of his shirt’s thin fabric, you studied the bruises that kissed his skin, “You- You need to be more careful! What do you mean? The whole building?”
“There was a kid in there- his mom was unconscious on top of him,” Peter spoke, “I had to go back in there and bring her out,” He informed, “And this is exactly why I didn’t tell you-” He felt you snatch the bag off of his face, allowing him to meet your stern gaze.
“Don’t do shit like that again,” You spoke, “I can’t even begin to think about what I’d do if you didn’t make it out of there,”
“Well I did,” Peter replied, “Okay, you don’t have to worry about me. The kid’s okay, his legs were crushed- he couldn’t get out of there himself,”
“You’re ridiculous,” You laughed, tossing the bag to your floor. Walking towards your bathroom, you heard Peter groan from the other room. You guessed he was attempting to follow you but failed to even raise himself off of the bed. You searched through your bathroom’s small closet, pulling out whatever you had to tend to Peter’s injuries.
“Y/N,” Peter spoke, his voice cracking mid syllable. His ribs burned around his lungs, making him burst into a fit of coughs. He felt himself healing, he just wished his accelerated healing would work faster. Opening his eyes, he realized you had returned to his side, “What’s that?” He asked, seeing you bringing wet gauze towards his face.
“Just close your eyes,” You spoke, watching him move away from you.
“What?” Peter queried, “No- no I’ll be healed by the morning-” He swallowed his words as you pressed the gauze against one of his open cuts, “s-shit- Y/N,” He groaned in pain. Little did Peter know how his pain affected you. You felt your stomach flutter, the sound that left his lips traveled straight between your legs, “What?” He questioned, feeling you freeze. Hitting your hand away, he stared at you.
“N-Nothing-” You stuttered, placing a new gauze against the opened bottle of peroxide. You shook your head, almost as if you were trying to shake the dirty thoughts away that began to pile up. You just found out that your two crushes were the same person, but because of Peter’s current state, you have not fully taken the information in.
“I can hear your heart racing,” Peter spoke again.
“So-” You mumbled.
“So why?” He inquired, “Are you disappointed? Shocked that Spider-Man’s not some fit and amazing guy- that it’s just me,”
“What?” This was all so sudden. You wondered why Peter was suddenly throwing all these questions at you. He was no longer looking at you, just staring at your apartment’s old ceiling, “What? Where- where’s this even coming from?” You studied his bruised chest, eyes trailing to his ribs and further down to the elastic of his boxers that peaked above his jeans.
Peter felt the words crawling out of his chest and up his throat. He was never this bold, so why did he want to ask you, “You still want to fuck Spider-Man?” His eyes widened, still fixed on the ceiling. He could only hope you saw him half as amazing as you found Spider-Man. You felt your entire body freeze in response to Peter’s question, “Sorry- I don’t know why I,” Peter’s voice trailed off, eyes finally opening to stare up at the ceiling, “God- I’m- I’m sorry,” He wanted to run, embarrassed at his sudden forwardness. He sat up slightly, putting his weight on his elbows. Reaching out, you grabbed his bruised face. Your fingertips dug into his cheeks, turning his face towards your own, “O-Ow! Ah! Y/N, s-shit,” Peter met your eyes. Your gaze was serious, yet somehow weak, “Okay- okay! Sor-” His rambling apology was cut off by your lips pressing against his own. The kiss was awkward as he attempted to move towards you. A pained hiss passed through Peter’s teeth as he fell back on his elbows.
“Sorry,” You spoke, pulling away from the forceful kiss, “I shouldn’t have-” This time you found Peter pulling you down towards him, lips locking once more. The kiss was heated and hungry, both of you making up for lost time. There were endless signs, now that you thought about it; but the both of you thought there was no way the other could ever reciprocate.
You pulled away, picking yourself off of Peter’s chest, “Where did that come from?” Peter questioned with a smile.
“Me?” You responded, “You pulled me back in and I felt tongue,” You watched his eyes squint as he smiled up at you. His smile was pure and genuine, yet pain shone through his expression.
Peter knew the pain was from his cuts and bruises, yet it also stemmed from keeping you in the dark, “You’re just,” Peter spoke, “You’re totally out of my league,”
“You’re Spider-Man,” You shot back, “What do you mean I’m out of your league,”
Peter stared back up at you as you rambled about Spider-Man. He took a deep breath, the sight above him warming his heart. His nostrils filled with the scent of you, something he had always loved. He could not really pinpoint what it was. Maybe some faded perfume, but it was mostly just you.
“Pete,” Your voice brought him back to reality, “What?” You questioned, his soft brown eyes stared back at you.
“You’re really my biggest fan, huh?” Peter laughed, there was a slight cockiness to his tone. He watched as you sat back on your heels silently. Your face hinted at embarrassment, making him laugh a little more, “No- no,” He smiled, “It’s cute,” He followed you, sitting up again, “It’s endearing,” His hand reached towards you, fingertips falling against the side of your neck. He felt you jump in his hold as you visibly crumbled from his touch. Peter felt himself grow hard at the sight of your timid state. His touch trailed to the base of your neck, fingers tangling in your y/h/c locks. Curling his fingers, he pulled you back towards him, eyes studying your lips.
Your head was spinning, tangled thoughts playing loudly in your head as you grew closer and closer to Peter. Your palms fell flat against the mattress, mirroring at his sides as your lips clashed with his.
This was not new to Peter, despite what people think, he is not a virgin. However, he is not that experienced either. Every move he made was calculated, trying to figure out the outcome and how far he should take this.
How far did you want him to take it?
“Y/N,” Peter muttered your name in between kisses. You hummed against his lips in response. God he wanted you. He guided you to bend your knees, sitting lightly on his lap; only hoping you did not feel just how hard he was.
You found your hands tracing each bruise you studied on Peter’s sides. He withered at the pain, but continued to deepen the kiss.
“Tell me to stop,” Peter spoke, tongue swiping your bottom lip slightly.
“What?” You questioned, lips parting. You felt Peter’s tongue against your own, making you crumble above him.
“Want you so bad, Y/N,” Peter admitted, “Tell me to stop,” A whole year of tension built within him and he did not know if he would be able to contain it.
“Don’t stop,” Your words came out in an embarrassed mutter. You felt Peter pull away, meeting your gaze as soon as your eyes fluttered open. You could barely look at him now that your feelings were known.
Peter groaned, of course the moment he could finally have you a building fell on him. He wished he could give you everything he had to offer. So, he would fight through the pain in order to pleasure you. His hands wandered, fingertips snaking underneath your shirt’s fabric, “What would you think about?” Peter questioned, touch grazing your skin. He traced over your ribs, resting his fingers against the band of your bra.
“W-Wh-what?” You stuttered, eyes still shut from his kiss, “About what?”
“Fucking Spider-Man,” He specified, studying your face. You would not look at him, eyes closed out of embarrassment, “How did he do it? What did I do to you?”
“Peter- please-,” You opened your eyes slightly. However, that did not last long. As soon as you felt his touch push up the elastic band of your bra, your eyes screwed shut.
“Tell me,” He spoke, lips nearing your neck. Pressing a wet his onto your skin, his body grew closer to yours, “Since you want this so bad,”
“Y-You- you were the one who wanted,” You were melting in his hold. His touch was somehow still gentle despite his hunger, “You want this too. R-Right?”
Peter nodded against your skin, lips peppering you with affection, “Want to make you feel good,” He breathed you in, “I’ve thought about doing so much to you,”
You felt your heart skip a beat at his claim. Little did Peter know you shared similar thoughts about him. Ever since you met him, he would fill your thoughts on sleepless nights.
“But what do you want me to do?” Peter questioned, sitting back for a moment. He studied you, “Spider-Man to do,”
You felt your face begin to heat up, “Anything,” You admitted.
“Anything?” Peter questioned, eyes studying your breasts. His gaze traced your curves until he focused on the button of your jeans. Reaching out, he paused for a moment as his body reminded him of his pain, “I need you to tell me sweetheart,” Unbuttoning your jeans, he pulled down on your zipper. His right hand slipped underneath the soft fabric of your underwear. You waited for him to make his move, his fingers hovered underneath your wetness, “Tell me or I won’t touch you,”
You took in a sharp breath, “I-I-,” You started to speak, “Y-You usually use webs,” You felt a wave of embarrassment crash through you, “I usually think about you using your webs,”
“Yeah?” Peter questioned, a stupid grin crossed his handsome face, “How?” He heard you whine in response, “Tell me. I want to know exactly what you want,”
“My wrists,” You uttered quietly. As quickly as his hand fell underneath the fabric, it left. Your eyes were still shut as you felt Peter take hold of your wrists. He shifted on the bed as he began to dig through his bag that he tossed underneath your bed. Suddenly, you fell back onto your mattress. You felt air leave your lungs as Peter brought your hands above your head. You felt the cold metal of your bed frame against your wrists, “Wait-“ You breathed out, “I-I want to be able to touch you,”
You heard Peter laugh quietly, the noise making your heart flutter, “Alright,” He webbed your wrists together before moving back down to your legs, “Are you going to look at me?”
Glancing up at him, you raised your bound hands off of your stomach. Turning your hands slightly, you allowed your fingertips to find the skin of Peter’s toned body.
“Good,” Peter spoke, holding onto your nervous glance. He brought a hand to the fabric of your shirt, slowly pulling it off of you. However, he realized he should have removed your shirt beforehand.
Raising your wrists to his eyes, he caught a fake pout forming on your lips. Your plump bottom lip slowly curled into a small smile, almost taunting him.
Peter expected nothing more from you, if he was being honest. He knew you better than anyone and he knew just how much of a brat you were, “Fine,” Peter spoke, the fabric of your thin shirt bunching in his grasp. Sitting back slightly, he tore at the fabric.
“Peter” You whined, hearing the fabric tear and feeling the room air hit your skin, “What the fuc-” Your claim was cut short by Peter bringing his lips to yours, roughly. His hands found the fabric of your jeans. With each passing thought, the fabric rolled further down your legs until it collected against your apartment’s hardwood floor.
Peter’s hands worked quickly at unbuttoning his jeans, pulling them down his legs. He struggled to pull them off of his ankles as the fabric of his socks bunched. However, his lips never left yours, clouding his mind. He felt your fingers trace each of his, probably broken, ribs. They then trailed further and further down his body, tracing his toned v-line until they found exactly what they were searching for.
Your eyes fluttered open slightly, surprised to feel the size of Peter through his boxer briefs. You felt your head begin to spin, you were not sure if it was from the lack of oxygen or from feeling Peter’s precum that leaked through the thin fabric. Peter shifted above you, removing his jeans. His movement allowed you to steal a breath of stuffy air.
“You still want this?” Peter questioned from his spot above you. You nodded, “Tell me. Use your words,”
“Yes,” You responded, “I want you,”
“Want Spider-Man?” Peter questioned, still wondering if you were disappointed it was him.
“Want you,” You repeated. Your eyes followed Peter’s as he studied you. His gaze bouncing between your y/e/c irises. Nerves turned your stomach as you watched his eyes shift, something about them grew darker, hungrier. You watched him reach out, taking hold of your wrists. With a swift tug, he easily picked you up off of the bed.
You sat in front of him once more, legs straddling his hips as he kneeled under you. His hands fell against the bare skin of your legs. Peter’s touch was hesitant but it still coaxed a sigh of pleasure out of you. You could not imagine how you would feel in a matter of minutes.
Peter’s hands flattened against your skin, traveling up. His eyes fluttered shut as his heightened senses began to overwhelm him. He could feel you jump with every inch he explored of your soft skin as he listened to your staggered breathing. Your thighs were soft as he dug his fingers into you, “So pretty,” He whispered, attempting to calm you somehow. He looked up at you from under his lashes, catching your wandering eyes. You could not look at him, you were too nervous, “Look at me,” Peter instructed.
“Pete,” You responded, voice somewhat trembling. His right hand left your skin, falling onto the webbing. He gave it a slight tug.
“I can stop,” Peter reminded you, “If you want me to stop-” He watched as you shook your head almost violently, “Well, just remember,” He spoke, “I’ll stop. No matter when you say it,” His hand returned to your thigh, “I’ll stop,” His hands reached your hips, palms kneading them. You squirmed in his hold, the advancement striking something within you. The pressure on your hips turned you on and you hated that it did. A moan began to crawl its way up your throat but before it could pass through your lips, Peter caught you in a kiss, “Mm,” He hummed, continuing to explore your skin. With closed eyes, it was as if he could see you from his touch alone. His fingers traced your curves until it met the band of your bra, the fabric still pushed up allowing part of your nipple to peak out. Pushing the bra over your breasts completely, his thumbs found your nipples, beginning to play with them.
You whined against his lips, making them curl into a smile, “n-not funny,” You whimpered, pulling away from his kiss, “You’re teasing,”
“I could be doing so much worse,” Peter admitted, unsure where the claim came from. His eyes left you to locate his bag that he tossed near the bed when he swung back in through the window, “But, I’ll stop teasing,” Reaching over the edge of the bed, he attempted to grab his backpack that hid underneath.
As Peter’s gaze was turned away, you studied the skin of his neck. Your eyes found the prominent freckle that sat on his neck. The freckle you always found you staring at, wishing to place your lips against it. So you did, and you felt Peter freeze.
Peter’s left hand wrapped around the fabric of his bag as he melted into your kiss. His free hand fell against the back of your head, fingers falling between your locks, “Y/N,” Your name fell from his lips, almost sounding like a punishment. He was losing himself to you as he blindly dug through his beat up bag. When his fingers fell around the square foil, he pulled on your hair. Pulling you off of his skin, he studied you in his hold. His eyes left yours and onto your breasts. Taking a deep breath he attempted to collect himself. He planted a soft kiss on your lips before his hands fell to your thighs, pushing on them slightly, “Sit back,”
You did as Peter told you, watching his hands leave your skin to fall against the band of his underwear. You held your breath, unprepared to see Peter this way. Even though you have dreamt of it so many times, you always knew what would happen in the end. Your daydreaming was safe because you were able to manipulate every single outcome. But now, Peter could find himself completely disgusted with you. He could realize you were not as amazing and pretty as he once thought you were.
You must have been visibly panicking because your racing thoughts were interrupted by Peter’s hand cupping your cheek, “Hey! Hey- Y/N,” Peter spoke, “I’ll stop,”
“No, no sorry,” You spoke, coming back to reality, “I just,” You almost laughed, “I don’t want to disappoint you,”
“What?” Peter questioned, “I’m lucky you even like me,” Through your worries, Peter had rolled the condom in his hand down his length. Unknown to you, Peter sat before you exposed. You stared at him, realizing his words were genuine; then, your eyes found his dick. Your gaze snapped to the right, out of embarrassment. You felt your face grow warm as Peter chuckled at your reaction, “C’mere,” Peter coaxed.
He moved towards your bed’s headboard, removing his underwear in the process. Peter watched you follow him, hands bound, attempting to navigate the lumpy mattress. Sitting, back flush, he reached out for you. Helping you straddle his hips, he moved the fabric of your underwear aside. His eyes watched as your wetness stretched across, an attached string following the cast aside fabric, “You’re so wet,”
“S-shut up,” You spoke, watching a stupid smile cross Peter’s face before you buried your face into his neck. You felt him line his tip up to your entrance.
“There you go,” Peter spoke, feeling the pressure as you attempted to sit on his dick, “Fuck,” He groaned. You were tight, “Relax,”
You could not help your nerves, like you said: what if he does not like you after this? You winced at Peter’s size, every inch growing more uncomfortable, “shit,” You muttered in the crook of his neck as you forced yourself down, taking him completely.
“F-fuck,” Peter threw his head back, hitting it slightly against the wall, “you’re tight,” His hands fell to your hips as the two of you paused for a moment. You felt him attempt to look at you, making you pick your head up from his neck, “You okay?”
“Yea-yeah,” You stuttered, “You’re,” You stared at him, trying to process that Peter, your best friend, was inches deep inside you, “you’re just, bigger than I imagined,”
“Imagined?” Peter questioned, a subtle smile sat on his lips. You must have noticed, because he could feel you tighten around him, making him suppress a groan.
“Please-” You stuttered, attempting to escape his hold.
“I’m flattered you thought about me fucking you,” He stated, “but, you thought my dick would be smaller?”
“It’s-It’s a compliment,” You attempted to defend.
“Uhuhhh,” Peter toyed, fingers digging into your hips, coaxing out a moan, “Ohh,” His tone was degrading as he physically rolled your hips. A hum passed through his lips that was drowned out by your moans. Taking hold of your bound wrists, he moved them, slipping your arms over his shoulders. Your wrists sat, bound behind his head, “Are you going to move?” He questioned, “or do you need help?”
You shook your head, denying his help. You were lost for words at Peter’s sudden dominance.
Even though Peter tried to convince you his bruises were from getting bullied on campus, he was a victim of some verbal bullying. A rumor circulated in his major that he was a virgin after denying the two of you were dating and part of you believed it. The sudden dominance was unexpected and you wondered if it had always been there and you were just unaware.
You felt Peter’s hands fall to the underside of your legs, pulling you out of your daydreaming and off of his dick. Your gaze shot up, locking onto him just in time for him to pull you back down his length, “F-Fu-” You began to swear, however the word was lost in your stream of moans.
“Gotta help me out here,” Peter spoke, still producing your movements, “shit,” He groaned as you started to bounce on him. Your rhythm was sloppy and self-doubting, “good- good job,” he attempted to praise.
“Mmmm,” You hummed, focusing on your movements. You did not pay attention to your close proximity to Peter, the two of you have been closer moments earlier. However, something about this was far more intimate. Peter’s hands were not the only thing exploring your exposed skin, his eyes were wandering. His gaze turned your stomach from equal excitement and nerves. Leaning down, you attracted Peter’s gaze, allowing him to look up in time for you to catch his lips in a deep kiss. He groaned, his hunger growing harder and harder to contain.
Peter’s hands fell to the underside of your legs, raising you off of him slightly. He began to thrust up into you, his pace and rhythm quickening as he continued to lose himself to the feeling of you. Your moans filled his ears, drowning out his groans of pain. The room echoed with skin against skin as your face buried into his neck, “Pe-Peter-” You moaned.
“Yeah?” Peter questioned, “You feel so good baby,” The pet name fell past his lips making you freeze in response. You tightened around his dick, making him hum, thrusting harder up into you, “so good,”
“You- you’re gonna make me-” You moaned, voice trembling from the force of Peter’s powerful thrusts, “gonna make me cum,”
“Already?” He questioned, “Good, want you to,” Peter’s voice came in waves, equally from pain and pleasure, “Want you to cum,” He felt you nod, face still buried close to him, “You going to cum like this?”
“Y-Yes,” You moaned, nodding, “so close,”
“Good,” Peter smiled, “I want to feel you cum on my dick,” He heard you whimper at his words, feeling you clench around him, “Can you do that for me? Can you cum on my dick?”
“Gonna cum,” You moaned, “I’m gonna cum,” You focused on chasing your high, lashes fluttering against the skin of Peter’s neck, “shi-shit-” Your voice almost sang, earning a chuckle from Peter.
“That feel good?” Peter asked, “You’re doing so good. Need you to cum for- fuck-” He moaned, feeling you come undone, “Good- good job,” Your moans filled his ear as he felt your heavy breaths. It took everything in him to give you a moment to collect yourself, “You okay?” Peter questioned after a moment of silence.
“Mhmm,” You hummed against his damp skin, the open window allowed the room to fill with the city’s humid air.
“Good,” Peter spoke, pulling your arms over his head before throwing you back onto your mattress. The air knocked out of your lungs for the sudden throw. As you attempted to catch your breath, it escaped your lungs once more as Peter suddenly entered you, “fuck,” His voice was low as you looked up at him. His thrusts grew harder and faster, “god Y/N,” With a roll of his hips, Peter’s head fell heavy. He needed more of you, he needed to be deeper inside of you. Reaching out, he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his nude skin. His thrusts continued, filling you fully.
“MMmm shittt,” You moaned, feeling yourself grow light headed, “fuck Pete-“ Locking eyes with him quieted your claim. He stared back at you, head slightly tilted back. His mouth hung open slightly before his lips pressed into a tight line. You raised your hips, searching for another angle.
”Shi- shit,” Peter groaned, his hand blindly searching for a pillow. As his fingers found the plush fabric, he held it in a tight grasp. Thrusts slowing, he studied you: your bound wrists covered your eyes slightly, moaning lips pressed against the bare skin of your arm. Adjusting his grasp on your hip, he slid his hand to the small of your back. Arching your back, Peter placed the plush pillow below you.
Bringing his closed fists to the mattress, he balanced himself as the pace of his thrusts growing faster. A groan passed through his clenched teeth as he took in the feeling of you. You were soft and he felt as if he was about to melt, “I-I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last,” He almost laughed at the effect you had on him.
“Wa-want you to cum,” You moaned. You truly did not want this to end, but if you were being honest, you were starting to get sore from Peter’s strength. You would not be surprised if you woke up in the morning with just as many bruises as Peter had.
“Yeah?” Peter questioned, rolling his hips. He watched you struggle to answer, lips parted but only moans could fall from them. With a nod of your head, he picked up the pace once again, beginning to focus on his orgasm that was not too far out of reach. The pain of Peter’s bruised ribs traveled through his body as his thrusts kept getting harder and faster. In this moment he forgot about his strength, mind only occupied by you and how you felt around him. Your screams were muffled by the sound of his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he reached the edge of his climax, “I’m gonna cum. Fuck Y/N- mm, baby I’m cumming,” His words weaved together as his head fell back, lips parted in pleasure.
You studied him as best as you could through your fluttering lashes. The skin of Peter’s chest was flushed, covered in a layer of sweat. Extending your arms, you rotated your wrists, bringing the pads of your fingers to the skin of his toned abdomen, traveling down to the base of his dick. Peter’s thrusts were sloppy as his hips jolted to a stop, filling the condom that sat deep inside of you.
His breaths were heavy as his heart rattled in his chest. That is when he realized just how rough he could have been. With a sudden shift in demeanor, he pulled out of you, “Shit,” You basically gasped, not ready for Peter’s quick exit.
“Are you okay?” He asked, bringing his hand to your damp skin. Peter’s touch was gentle as he traced almost every inch of you, waiting for any pained reaction.
“Just a little sore,” You smiled softly, “but I should have known. You know, the whole super strength thing,” You watched as Peter stood up, removing the used condom from himself. He left your side, beginning to pull his boxers up his legs. Was he leaving? Every negative thought once again filled your mind. Throwing your head back down onto the mattress, you closed your eyes, covering them with your bound wrists.
Moments passed of silence until you were surprised by the feeling of a warm towel against your skin. Raising your arms, you looked down to find Peter gently cleaning you, “Is that too hot?” You heard him question.
Bringing your wrists back over your face, you attempted to hide the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, “N-no,” You replied, voice cracking slightly.
“Oh- sorry! Here let me-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he took hold of your hand, his dominant hand beginning to rip the webbing, “There,” He smiled, freeing you.
“Thanks,” You replied, taking a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself. You did not want to cry in front of Peter, especially after sex. Afterall, it was Peter and he would overthink it, when in reality you were just being overemotional.
“Soo,” Peter’s voice drew out as he removed the pillow from your arched back, “How was that?” He watched you laugh slightly.
“Good,” You smiled, “Really good. It was great,”
“Because if Peter wasn’t that good, Spider-Man could give it a try next time,” Peter somewhat teased.
“Don’t tempt me with that suit,” You smiled, watching Peter lean over you. He caught you in a kiss, however both of you could not help but smile.
#peter parker#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker fan fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x reader#spider-man#spiderman smut#spider man fanfic#spider man fanfiction#spiderman fanfic#spider-man fanfiction#spider-man fic#spider-man fanfic#spider-man smut#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman fic#spiderman x reader#spider-man x reader#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fic#marvel smut
748 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi so I fell into this hole you see... and got caught on THIS
And because of THIS I'm now back on my 1920s bullshit and my brain is mathing here.
Alastor died in his late 30s early 40s in 1933. He lived in New Orleans, which means he was probably in his late teens to mid 20s when one of the most buckwild (heh buck) serial killers was a live.
That guy would be the Axeman of New Orleans who had a thing for Jazz.
READ THIS LETTER FROM THE GUY
"Hell, March 13, 1919
Esteemed Mortal:
They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.
When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.
If you wish you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but His Satanic Majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don't think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.
Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.
Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is: I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it out on that specific Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.
Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fantasy.
-The Axeman"
Alastor was probably having a time when this was happening. Idk what kind cause he's parents/mom was probably terrified, and who knows what was going through his head at the time. He could have been having a fun time or was scared out of his mind.
Anyway, I seem to be stuck still. This deer man is based on one of my favorite decades, and I can't get out, send help.
Awful man. Awful awful man. I love him.
#angrylilcyclops talks#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#i'm rambling#I like the 1920s a lot#axeman#new Orleans Axeman
12 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
redcrowncafe
Red Crown Cafè
indecisivenamer
Living In The Past
thou-shalt-cha-cha-real-smooth
thou shalt cha cha real smooth
biomedmariam
Без названия
unchartedthelostlegacy
Nadine and Chloe's excellent adventure