#i’m doing good! i hope you’re as well?

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part one

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

“You’re kidding me.”

Max is standing in front of you, he can barely withhold his laugh. You can see the first signs of his laugh by the way his mouth corners are up. You’re not focused on your brother and his stupid laugh, you’re focused on his best friend. Lando Norris, who’s holding out his hand to you with a silver key in it. You can only hope that this is some sort of prank, but it doesn’t seem like it.

“No,” Max tells you, “We’re getting renovations and the backup apartment only has two bedrooms.”

“I can sleep on the couch?” You offer hopeless. 

“Lando has a room for you,” your brother replies, “and he’s barely home, so what’s the big deal?”

“He’s Lando,” you sigh annoyed. 

Lando has been silent before, but this time he speaks up as well. Almost annoyed he grunts, “He’s standing here. You should be grateful instead of acting like a -” “Lando,” Max is quick to interrupt him. Now that Lando thinks back about the words he was going to say, maybe it’s better that Max interrupted him. Calling you a brat who needs to get laid, by him, wouldn’t make him more popular by you. Oops. 

“See,” you say with an annoyed look at Lando, “I’ll book a hotel because this is the worst idea ever.” 

“You’re going to live in a hotel room in Monaco for a good month or two?” Max asks you surprised, “I’m not paying for that.” 

“Babygirl,” Lando starts. You try to silence him with a angry glance, but it doesn’t work. Since the last couple weeks he keeps calling you babygirl, princess or some other terrible nickname. You can’t get him to stop. “I’ll behave,” Lando continues.

“See?” Max asks you with the same tone you used with him earlier. 

“Until you beg me to misbeha-” 

“Lando for fucks sake,” Max grunts while interrupting his friend again. “I told you it was a bad idea for you to be included in this conversation, you’re only making things worse.”

Lando finally gets the hint and walks away from the room, leaving Max and you alone to talk about all of this. When he’s standing in the hallway, he can’t help himself to stay close by the door. Maybe he can hear something of what you’re saying. In the mean time he looks at his phone, he notices multiple new messages on different platforms. When he opens a couple snaps he’s greeted with nudes from girls he barely recognizes, sometimes with the question when they will see him again. It annoys him. There aren’t many girls who understand that a one night stand is for only one night. He ignores the snaps. 

“Max you can’t expect me to live with him,” you tell your brother angrily, “He’s a literal man whore.  I will probably stay awake every night that he’s home because he always brings some girl with him.”

“I bet that if you ask him to be a bit more quiet, he’ll do so,” Max disagrees with you.

“Still,” you sigh, “We don’t like each other. Lando and I aren’t friends like the two of you. We’re always arguing.” 

“Why don’t you like Lando?” Max asks you, “I mean, you’re often the one who starts with the arguments.”

“That’s now!” You quickly defend yourself, “Earlier it was always Lando who started things. Whenever you left he would always tease me with something.”

Max doesn’t reply this time. You continue to whine about living with Lando. “Can’t you live with Lando? I’m sure Kelly would like it if I’m taking your place.” This time Max chuckles, but he still shakes his head.

“I don’t have another solution then this,” Max tells you eventually. He doesn’t tell you that Lando begged him to let you stay at his place during the renovations. Max also doesn’t tell you that he probably can rent you another apartment for a while, or could have found a place for himself, Kelly, Penelope and you. Lando owns him a lot after this. 

“Am I really going to live with Lando?” 

“Just for a while,” Max replies with a small smile. It seems like you finally agreed. 

Lando is smiling even more on the other side of the door. He’s glad that he’s standing here and hears this. His plan worked. At least, the first step of like a billion steps worked out for him. When he hands you his keys five minutes later, the smile is still plastered on his face. 

+++

“We need some ground rules.”

Lando looks away from the street in front of him to throw a short look at you. The two of you are sitting in his car, much to your disliking. He waited at Max his place until you were done with packing so he could take you with him. While packing your stuff, you kept wondering why you decided to live with Max in Monaco, since it caused this drama. 

“Ground rules babygirl?” Lando asks you. He tries to focus on the road again, but he feels distracted with you this close next to him. 

“Rule one, no more calling me babygirl,” you mutter annoyed. 

“Nope,” Lando is quick to answer. 

Before you can say anything else, Lando speaks up again. “Let’s talk about your rules later, I’m trying to focus on driving.”

“Didn’t know that a formula one driver had trouble with normal car driving,” you mutter. 

Lando laughs softly. You’re without a doubt the most annoying girl he knows, but he wants nothing more then to make you his annoying girl. That can’t be good. It really can’t be. You on the other hand aren’t laughing, you’re still annoyed by everything that happened and is going to happen. You try to distract yourself by wondering about Lando his apartment: how would it look? You expect it to be all manly. Probably no decor, only formula one stuff and more like that. 

When Lando parks his car in an underground garage, he’s quick to tell you about how things work in the apartment complex. “If you want, you can park your car here as well,” he tells you after giving a whole explanation about getting in the garage after hours. 

“I don’t have a car,” you tell Lando, “I always used one of Max’s.”

“Oh, you can use one of mine then if you need a car,” Lando simply states without even thinking about it. You don’t know what to say. When looking at the multiple cars that are parked on spots that match with Lando his apartment number, you can only wonder what they cost. He is really offering you to use his expensive cars whenever you like? “I’ll show you where the keys are later,” Lando continues, “you don’t have to ask if you want to use them.”

“You’re kidding right?” You ask surprised. Lando is already shocking you. Normally the two of you are always bickering, mostly because of you, so it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s offering something big like this. 

“No babygirl,” he replies, “you can use every one of them.”

“Even your McLaren?” You ask while looking at the special McLaren that Lando owns. 

“Even the McLaren.”

You can’t stop yourself and grin. This is a nice thing. Max is always really protective over his cars, certainly the ones who mean a bit more to him or were more expensive. Lando doesn’t seem to care as much. You already can’t wait to try his cars. 

Together with Lando you use the elevator to get to his floor. You’re getting more curious about Lando his apartment. Lando on the other hand is thinking about something else. He wonders about how you will be in his apartment. Since Max told him about those renovations, he couldn’t help himself and kept imagining living together with you. Seeing it as his big chance to finally show you that he’s not some little boy anymore and maybe to connect a bit more with you. He hopes that he finally can make sure that you get to know the real him. But he doesn’t have a plan for that yet. 

When Lando opens the door and drags your suitcase inside with him, you feel the reality of the situations washing over you. This is it. You’re really living with Lando for now. It feels weird. Lando and you have a complicated past. It’s not as bad as it was before, but you do have a strong opinion about him. And it’s not a positive one. 

You remember all those discussions between Lando and you. The times he teased you until you exploded at him. Or the times you started it and made him crazy. Before it could be simple, but when Lando started his ‘fuck boy era’ - at least, that’s how you call it, you’re even more annoyed by him. Every time he comes over he seems to have some sort of story about a random girl who landed in his bed. It annoys you. 

“So, what do you think?” Lando pulls you out of your thoughts. Slowly you walk inside his apartment. It’s big. Even bigger then you already expected. About the other things you were kinda right. The interior is nice, but it seems basic. He probably called a specialist once, who made sure he has a nice interior. It’s not bad, but it’s not personal. You miss the simple personal touches. It feels a bit stoic. 

“Looks good,” you tell Lando. 

“And now your honest opinion?” Lando sees right through you. 

“It’s nice,” you say before being honest, “but I miss the personal touches.” 

Lando smirks. “Maybe you can take care of that one day,” he jokes. Or better said, he says it like it’s a joke but he would love it if you would actually make his apartment more homey. But you can start with being here. 

“Let me show you the rest,” Lando tells you. He grabs your arm and takes you with him. You’re surprised by the way he searches physical contact with you. Even more surprised with the way it feels. Lando shows you the apartment. You’re quick to find out which room has a few personal touches, his game room. If you should call it that at least. Multiple helmets and trophies are standing in shelves leaning on the walls. 

Lando doesn’t give you a lot of time to look around at his personal belongings. The same thing happens with his own bedroom. You can barely see his bed and then he closes the door again. He takes you with you to the bathroom, before finally showing you the guest bedroom. 

“Think this is okay?” He asks you a bit nervous. You don’t notice the nervous tone in his voice. Slowly you look around in the guest room. It seems nice. There’s plenty room for all your stuff and the bed seems pretty comfortable. You even spot some fresh flowers on the bedside table. Did Lando get those? You can’t imagine it, it must be the doing of his cleaner or something. 

Lando sees the way you look at the fresh flowers. He wonders what you’re thinking right now. You probably don’t think that he has bought them himself. He knew beforehand that if you would move in with him, that it would happen today. So earlier this morning he went to the flower shop to get some fresh flowers for your room. Hoping it would make you feel a bit more at home. He doesn’t tell you that he bought them. You probably won’t believe him anyway. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Lando earlier question, “this is fine.”

“I hope you don’t snore,” Lando jokes, “the walls are thin.”

“Then I hope you don’t take a girl with you every night,” you throw back. 

“Jealous?” Lando questions you with a raised eyebrow. 

“All though, I don’t think I’ll hear the girl much,” you continue, “You’re probably more concerned about your own pleasure.”

“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Just wait until you find out how concerned I am about your pleasure.” 

You try to withhold any sort of reaction to be shown. Inside you’re going crazy. Lando always makes remarks that are a bit on the bold side, but he never made them this sexual. Fuck. You can’t think about stuff like this. 

“That brings me back to my earlier statement, we need some rules,” you tell Lando.

“I need rules in my own home?” He asks you surprised. Of course he knew this was coming, but after your remarks Lando isn’t making this easy for you. 

“Yes,” you sigh, “because otherwise we’re going to fight every day.”

“Maybe I like that,” Lando continues to annoy you. 

You let out a sigh. Lando lets out a soft chuckle. It’s so easy to tease you. He knows he should stop, but you know what they say, right? Boys always tease the girls they like the most. He walks back to the living room with you and offers you something to drink before getting on the couch next to you. 

“What rules do you suggest, babygirl?” He then asks you. 

“One, no more calling me babygirl,” you tell him just as you did earlier today.

“Nope,” Lando states, it’s the same answer he gave you the first time. You don’t react to his no, you continue with the rest of your rules. 

“Rule number two, I don’t want to meet every other girl you bring here,” you say. 

“Afraid you’d get jealous?” Lando asks you teasingly. He can only hope that it’s like that, but he knows better. You’re not jealous of those girls. He understands this rule, it would be a mess if he needed to explain to every girl why you’re living with him and that you’re not his girlfriend. Plus, maybe he should stop bringing this many girls to his apartment. His phone is blowing up by the ones who he gave his number, a lot of them expect something more - while he made clear it would be a one time thing. And maybe, really maybe, it’s not fair for those girls that he uses them to forget about you for a bit. 

Some stupid plan that doesn’t even work anyways. Every time a girl is laying underneath him, he can only imagine that it’s you. He wonders how it would feel when it was actually you. How you would sound. There have been many girls, but he thinks about the same girl every time. You. 

“That’s okay,” Lando responds to your rule, “I’ll try.”

You nod satisfied. “And maybe you can also tone it down a bit with the sexual remarks towards me?” You ask him after your succes.

“No, no,” Lando quickly replies, “I want to say to you what I think.” 

You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything else on the subject. “How do you want to do this Lando?” You ask him eventually. “Do you want to live together or next to each other? Want to have dinner together or? I really don’t know how this can work.”

“Let’s try to live together,” Lando tells you hopefully, “We can have dinner together and inform each other a bit about when we’re home or not.”

“Sure?” You ask surprised. You expected him to chose the other option.

“Sure babygirl.”

+++

That evening the two of you decided that Lando could have a cheat day with his healthy diet. Together you ordered some take out. 

“Remember when you DM’ed this girl to get McDonalds with you,” you tease when Lando offers to order some McDonalds. He sends you an angry glare. “She didn’t seem to interested,” you continue to tease. 

“Are you going to eat McDonalds with me or not?” Lando asks you annoyed, “because otherwise I’ll find a girl who will.”

After eating together, you decided to test out the bathroom by taking a shower. When you walk in nothing more then a small towel wrapped around your body back to your bedroom, you decide that you will unpack and organize tomorrow. For now you only need to find something to sleep in. You rummage through your bagage, but there’s no pyjama in sight. Fuck. Clothes are quickly scattered around on the bedroom floor. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. 

You wonder if Lando has something you can wear for tonight, tomorrow you can get your other stuff. In nothing more then a towel on your body, you walk out of your room and start to search for Lando. You hold the towel closely to your body, not wanting to flash Lando. He isn’t in the living room or kitchen, you continue to search. When you hear noises coming out of his game room, you softly knock on the door. 

“Lando?” You ask while knocking again. 

In no time the door is opened. Lando is standing in front of you. You feel a bit distracted when you look at Lando. In some weird way you can’t stop looking at him. The earlier hoodie he was wearing has made place for a white blouse. It suits him. He looks so fine. Fuck. 

“Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You ask him.

Lando doesn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His eyes are glued on the towel that’s wrapped around your body. Is it really the only thing you’re wearing right now? He can’t even think or function properly right now. He can’t look away from your almost bare body. Fuck, he already knows what he’s thinking about the next couple times while trying to orgasm. Your body looks even better then he already thought. He notices your curves and the way the towel accentuates them even more.

“Did you hear me?” It’s your voice that pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Oh no sorry,” he quickly mutters. He tries to look you in the eyes, but his eyes keep hanging on your body. He focusses on your breasts which are almost in his sight. It’s not hard to miss that you’re a bit cold, your nipples are coming through the towel. 

“I wondered if you have something for me to sleep in?” You ask Lando again, surprised he didn’t hear you the first time. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”

“Of course,” Lando quickly replies. He takes you with him to his bedroom and searches through his closet for a bit. When he found a particular shirt, he’s quick to hand it to you. It’s not a coincidence that he chose a shirt with his name all over it. He hopes he’s going to see you into it. Within seconds you have left him alone again. 

Lando sighs and walks back to the other room. This is going to be hard for him, but he can only hope that he’ll manage to win your heart eventually. When his phone vibrates, he quickly looks at it. 

Max: Explain how I’m FaceTiming with Y/N and seeing her in one of your shirts already???

writers note ; don't really know yet how i'm going to write this one, so every idea is welcome :) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ps; i changed the playlist link to a new one

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #roommates

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[6esiree]

Lending Them Your Hello Kitty Pajamas

Imagine lending Alastor/Lucifer/Husk/Vox/Adam a pair of your Hello Kitty pajamas for Movie Night? Everyone else is dressed so snugly, but when they come into the room in their usual getups you’re just like, yeah, no, that’s not going to work, buddy.

Alastor:

It took a lot of convincing to get Alastor to join in on Movie Night, so the fact that he came down in his suit was no surprise to you. He was your man, though, and he had a soft spot for you. Convincing him to put on some pajamas wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, the only issue being that he didn’t have any. You hooked your arm in his and dragged him to your room, trying not to giggle as you had something specifically in mind for him.

“Darling, do you perhaps have…anything else?” Alastor asked you, eyeing your drawer.

“Nope,” You said, pushing the drawer shut with a tight smile.

Yeah, you were lying. You definitely had something that would better suit Alastor’s taste, but he looked so cute in a simple t-shirt and your Hello Kitty pajama pants. Sure, you felt a little guilty for making him wear something outside of his comfort zone, but Movie Night was only so long.

“Very well, then,” Alastor said, unconvinced but ready to go. “Let us join the others, hm?”

He gingerly placed his hand on the small of your back, escorting you out of your room. As you headed downstairs, you felt everybody’s stares settle on the two of you, their eyes widening upon noticing what Alastor was wearing. You could tell he was doing his best to ignore them as Charlie started the movie, your ears filled with the familiar sound of radio static.

But his eyes remained glued to the television screen in front of you, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you at his side. Alastor would do anything for you, even if it meant suffering a little teasing from the other residents to make you happy, adoring the sight of your cheek smooshed against his chest. The man wasn’t big on PDA, but he dipped his head and planted a kiss on your forehead, smiling as you sighed in content.

Lucifer:

When you heard Charlie mention that Lucifer was joining in on Movie Night, you were excited. You showered and even made sure to wash your pajamas that same night, hoping to get the man’s attention. When you walked out of your room, you squeaked, surprised to see him waiting on the other side of your door with a sheepish look on his face.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to spook you,” Lucifer chuckled, his hands behind his back as he bounced on his toes.

“No, that’s alright, just didn’t expect to see you…here, y’know?” You said, quickly adding the next part, “Did you need something?”

You watched as Lucifer chewed his lip, seemingly debating whether he should go ahead with whatever he had come to you for. He shook his head, turning around and lifting a foot to walk away, but then he sighed and turned back to you.

“I was wondering if you had, uh, an extra pair of pajama pants on you?” Lucifer asked as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “I don’t have anything…casual, so I was asking around to see if anybody had anything to lend me. So far not good.”

Oh, yeah. You had something casual for him alright. You nodded, disappearing into your room and handing him a pair of pajamas that you had decided not to wear. Lucifer’s eyes practically bugged out of his head when he saw the Hello Kitty pattern on it, but he didn’t complain, smiling at you and telling you ‘Thank you,’ before scampering off to his room.

When Lucifer came downstairs and sat on the spot next to you, which you had purposely saved for him, everybody looked at him in confusion. Charlie offered her dad a smile as she started the movie, but Alastor? He made sure to look him up and down, offering him a snide remark disguised as a compliment.

Lucifer brought his knees to his chest, hugging himself, clearly embarrassed. You started to feel bad, so you swallowed your pride and decided to be a little honest with him. “I think you look cute in them,” You whispered, bumping your shoulder against his. “Really?” He said, his cheeks growing redder than they already were when you nodded. Ignoring everybody’s stares and comments became an easy task for Lucifer after that.

Husk:

The first time you slept in Husk’s room, you realized he didn’t have any pajamas. He’d basically jump out of his clothes and sleep in his underwear, which was totally fine. It was his room, so he could do whatever he pleased. But he had nothing snug to wear when it came to Movie Night, so you decided to lend Husk a pair of pajamas, and oh, he was not happy about your choice.

“I ain’t wearin’ this shit,” Husk grumbled as he stood in front of you, wearing your Hello Kitty pajamas.

“Come on, Husk! You look cute—“ You started, watching his ears fall against his head at the word ‘cute.’

“Cute? Yeah, fuck no, lemme go change.”

But when he noticed how downcast you looked, Husk sighed. You were so kind and patient with him, comforting him at his lowest, so wearing something as silly as your Hello Kitty pajamas was the least he could do. Husk snatched your hand with a ‘Let’s get goin,’ the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as you gasped in delight.

It’s safe to say that Husk regretted his decision when you went downstairs, the way Angel pointed at him and laughed making him growl. He didn’t turn around and change, though, taking a seat on the ground and patting the space between his legs instead. Charlie kindly asked the spider to quiet down, but it wasn’t until Vaggie threatened to shut him up that he finally did so.

As the movie played, you leaned into Husk’s embrace, feeling his chest vibrate against your back. You sighed in content as he nuzzled his face into your neck and wrapped his wings around you, allowing you to hear the old man’s purrs in privacy. But of course the moment had to be ruined, Husk’s eyes flying open when he heard a camera shuttering. Angel was so screwed.

Vox:

When you suggested dedicating a day in the week to watching movies—Movie Night—the Vees shrugged and said, ‘Why not?’ especially as bonding was something all of you needed to work on. As you left your room, you bumped into Vox, your face falling as you noticed that he was in his usual getup. He didn’t have his coat on, sure, but that was still disappointing.

“Do you not, like, own a pair of pajamas?” You asked him.

“Didn’t know there was a dress code,” Vox said, his hands behind his back as he turned to you.

“Yeah, there is, but I guess you didn’t catch that,” You said, grabbing his arm and dragging him into your room.

Vox huffed, but he didn’t protest, watching you dig through your drawer in curiosity. “A-Ha!” You said, his eyes widening when you held up a pair of Hello Kitty pajamas. “I am not wearing that,” Vox said, but you threw them at his face, laughing as it draped over the edge of his screen.

The two of you went back and forth with the pajamas for a while, but you managed to wear Vox down eventually. That and the fact that Velvette started calling him, her contact popping up on his screen. “Fucking fine!” Vox said, putting them on. Before you knew it, he snatched your hand and teleported you to the Vees shared living space, a smug look on your face as you hopped over the couch, taking up the space between Vox and Velvette.

You laid your head on Vox’s lap, tangling your legs with Velvette’s in the process. She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief when she realized why the two of you had taken so long, Valentino chuckling from his armchair. Halfway into the movie, you felt Vox settle his hand on your head, his claws mindlessly combing through your hair. As ridiculous as he looked in Hello Kitty pajamas, he couldn’t be mad at you.

Adam:

Your relationship with Adam was complicated, to say the least, but he somehow made it work. He snuck out of Heaven for your first monthly Movie Night, your window rudely flying open as he welcomed himself into your room. “Hey, babe,” Adam said, wearing his mask, robe, and all. You sighed—he was supposed to come in pajamas, but of course he didn’t listen.

“Yeah, no, you’re not laying in my bed in all…that,” You said, watching Adam’s face light up. “Come on, take it off.”

“Oh! Well, if you say so,” Adam said, tossing his mask aside and removing his robes, obviously thinking that you were going to do something else.

When he had dressed down to just his underwear, you got up from your bed, rolling your eyes as he looked at you in confusion. “Hey, where the fuck are you going?” Adam asked, answering his question by tossing him a pair of pajamas from across the room. “Put those on,” You told him, sitting down on your bed, chuckling as he sputtered in disbelief.

“Oh, come on! I’m not putting this shit on,” Adam said, holding out the pajamas in front of you and pointing out the Hello Kitty pattern. “Look at this! It has fucking—what is this? Cats? Cats with bows? Yeah, no, I can’t wear this, babe.”

Adam tried to give them back to you, but you folded your arms and shook your head, telling him that Movie Night couldn’t proceed without pajamas. He tossed his head back and groaned, mumbling ‘Fine! Whatever,’ as he put them on, a displeased look on his face as you moved back onto your bed and lifted the blanket for him.

You laid your head on Adam’s bare chest when he laid down, draping your leg over his lower half. When your eyes flitted up to the man, he looked everything but happy, giggling as he told you to start the movie. You did just that, sighing in content when his hand trailed down to knead your side. It wasn’t often when you two got to do something together, so Adam swallowed his pride, his heart swelling as you fell asleep on him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x you #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #vox x you #vox #hazbin the vees #the vees #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam x you #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel fluff #vaggie #angel dust #charlie morningstar

[stuniolo-simp4life]

I hope they look like you- Matt Sturniolo 

Description- Matt and y/n find out something shocking about their future. 

Warnings- Crying and comforting, a little suggestive during a flashback. Another short and sweet.

Y/n’s morning wasn’t exactly a great start. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous and sick. Matt was peacefully sleeping beside her. 

Suddenly, she had the urge to puke. She got up and ran to the bathroom, letting out whatever was making her feel this way. 

A few seconds later, matt walked in, holding her hair like a ponytail and rubbing her back softly. “It’s okay pretty girl. Let it out.” 

When she was done, she lifted her head softly, tears threatening to fall. 

“You’re alright,” matt whispered to you. You grabbed your toothbrush and started brushing your teeth.

Usually you didn’t mind the taste of mint, but today it made you sick. 

“Do you need anything?” matt asked. “I’m fine,” you snapped. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ 

Your mood had been swinging like crazy today. You got mad because the TV wasn’t working, but then you started crying because you couldn’t reach a plate from a cabinet. 

Matt had been worried about you, but you kept saying you were fine. 

“I don’t know why but I've been craving pickles with chocolate frosting recently,” you announced to no one in particular. 

Chris gave you a weird look and nick just looked confused. “Y/n you don’t even like pickles,” nick said.

“I know, but i just want to eat them for some reason,” you said with a shrug. 

You got up and went to the kitchen, hoping to find pickles in the fridge. Matt was sitting on the island table. 

Randomly you started crying. Matt looked up at you and got up, surprised. “Baby what wrong? Why are you crying?”  

“There’s no more pickles,” you sobbed. Matt hugged you, clearly confused. You didn’t even like them, and now you were crying over them? 

“Y/n are you on your period?” You sniffed and pulled out your phone, checking your cycle tracker.

Your eyes widened. You had missed your period by a whole week. 

“I think it’s late by a little.” Matt didn’t think much of it. It was probably just before period symptoms.  

You did not think that. Your eyes widened as it finally clicked. Where you pregnant? 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ 

Matt and his brothers had gone out to film a Wednesday video, leaving you at home.

You decided to walk to the pharmacy that was near your house, picking up 3 pregnancy tests. 

When you got back you were pretty nervous about taking the test. What if you were pregnant? What would matt say? Would he be mad? How did this even happen- 

Wait. Your eyes widen as you remembered.  

You were at an influencer party and passed tipsy. You went up to matt, smashing your lips on his. 

“Matty I need you,” you slurred. Matt just chuckled and looked at you. “Baby you’re wayyy too drunk. And this isn’t even our house.” 

“Pleaseee,” you whined. “It won’t be long I promise,” you whispered seductively into his ear. You felt him stiffen as you started kissing and sucking his neck. 

He grabbed your arm and dragged you towards nick and chris, who were currently talking to some people.  

“Hey y/n isn’t feeling that good. We are just gonna wait in the car until you guys are done.” Nick nodded. “we should be out in about an hour.” 

Matt walked you to the car, pushing both of you into the back seat. “You look so pretty in this dress, but i think you’d look even better without it.” 

He kissed you roughly, biting at your bottom lip. “Wait baby i don’t have protection with me.” 

“It fine just don’t cum inside me.” 

Well it’s safe to say that he didn’t remember. 

Your breathing quickened as you slowly realized- you might be pregnant. Your hands shook as you opened the pregnancy test.  

You nervously waited for the results, biting your nails. After a few minutes, you checked it. Positive.

You let out a shaky breath as feelings overwhelmed you. 2 left to go. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ 

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Your eyes filled with tears as you read all 3 results. You were too young to be a mother. Hell- you were only 20! 

You sank to the floor and started crying. No no no no no. This can’t be happening. The bathroom door opened and matt walked inside. 

“Hey baby- y/n? What’s wrong?” he sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. 

“I-Im sorry matt. I swear this was never meant to happen i-” “What are you talking about?” he cut you off. 

You pointed to the counter where the pregnancy tests sat. His eyes widened as he looked at them. “Im so sorry this wasn’t meant to happen.” you sobbed 

He looked at you with a big grin on his face. “Im gonna be a dad!” he picked you up and hugged you, shocking you. 

“Your not mad?” you asked. He looked at you. “Of course im not mad. Im so excited. You're going to be such a good mom.” 

“You really think so?” you asked. He smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “I know so.” 

You giggled. “I hope the baby looks like you,” you said and kissed him. 

tags- l34n theyluvme-2315 tillies33ssss maya555sblog alorsxsturn blahbel668 @nyktoxs-lover strnilolo hearteyesformatt

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matthew x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x you

[capacityfornirvana]

”Tommy can only be a stepping stone for Buck. Buck needs to explore his sexuality more, before settling down, especially if it’s with a man.”

Whoa, the biphobia is strong with this one. You also wouldn’t be saying this if Eddie had been Buck’s first same-sex partner, let’s keep it transparent here.

“Tommy ending his first date with Buck early is a sign that Tommy is rude and doesn’t care.”

No, it’s a sign that Tommy is a grown ass man who isn’t afraid to advocate for himself and call a spade a spade.

Buck was all over the place during that first date. He was also rude and inconsiderate. But that’s alright, because going out with a man was something completely new to him, and it’s understandable that he struggled to navigate that, especially when his best friend, who he wasn’t out to yet, showed up out of the blue.

But… that doesn’t mean Tommy is in any way obligated to be okay with that. He has every right to observe that things aren’t going well, and he has every right to (correctly) determine that Buck wasn’t ready (at least, at that moment), and remove himself from the equation.

He also extended a lot of grace by finishing dinner and letting Buck down gently outside. And furthermore, he extended a lot of grace by agreeing to meet Buck after the fact, let him explain and advocate for himself—and then take him at his word— and even agree to be his date at his sister’s wedding. That should all speak for itself, but some people are committed to winning those gold medals in selective amnesia and bitter nitpicking.

“Tommy couldn’t get a day off for his date’s wedding? WOW, yeah, what effort….”

Tell me you’ve never worked without telling me you’ve never worked, especially in a public safety job like firefighting. And tell me you have no realistic concept of what being ‘on call’ entails… because you don’t (and if you do, then, congrats! You’re at the bitch eating crackers level of angry and petty when it comes to Tommy). And yet, Tommy still showed up. To the bachelor party, and to the hospital after a long and brutal shift. Would you look at that! And Buck, being the adult man he also is, noticed that, appreciated that, loved that.

“Tommy couldn’t even dress up? WOW, what effort.”

Now you’re just desperate to hate a character. And if that’s the best you’ve got, you already lost. And let’s be honest, you don’t actually give a shit about this. If Eddie had been the one to not dress up, you would be showering him with praise about how ~quirky~ he is, or how Buck loves him anyway because ~it’s Eddie~, and “they don’t need something as silly as themed clothing to gauge how unbreakable their relationship is!” Yeah.

“B-but! Tommy was rude about Buck’s coffee order!”

If something like that genuinely upsets you and feels like grounds to determine that someone doesn’t care/is not a good partner, then… I’m genuinely sorry, and I hope that you develop a healthier perspective, and get to partake in fulfilling adult relationships as you advance forward in life. That’s all.

In conclusion…

It’s a good thing some of you don't write the show. And it’s a good thing you’re not Buck, who seems completely smitten and quite arguably the most content he’s ever been while with a partner. Because unlike some of you, Buck is an experienced, generally mature adult, who is capable of recognizing and appreciating when someone makes an effort while still having to navigate real world concepts like work and communication and just general adulthood. You’ll have to navigate all of that, too, and I hope you try to do it with some actual perspective.

#911 abc #bucktommy #text

[brairslair]

(i debated whether or not to ask this anonymously)

so yknow how eddie has a W.A.S.P pin on his vest? can you plz write an eddieXreader scene inspired by their song

Animal (F*** Like A Beast) ?

😅😊

i absolutely love this reqqq, tysm for letting me run with this! hope you like how it turned out @nerdyhooker

Like an Animal - E.M.

18+ ONLY (minors please dni)

a/n: finally figured out an idea i liked for this, and i think it turned out pretty good! although i may have gotten a bit carried away lmao. not sure if this is as rough as you might have had in mind, but i tried to pull as much from the lyrics as possible! i hope you like what i ended up with <3

wc: 5.8k

cw: eventual smut, fem!reader, bartender!eddie + english teacher!reader, kinda fuckboy eddie vibes?, enemies to lovers vibes, light bondage (handcuffsss), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), oral (fem receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey, baby), technically drinking and driving, smoking (cigs + i don’t smoke so idfk what i’m talking about), brat reader but she gets super subby, kinda mean but soft dom eddie?, light dacryphilia, these idiots have been head over heels for each other since high school and neither of them knew it bc they’re stupid and stubborn, extremely vague mention of aftercare, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything!

don’t forget to like, reblog, follow, and comment to support my work! it always makes my day, mwah

“well if it isn’t the little princess”

Just like that, nine months down the drain. You massage your temples as you recall the past few days. The countless arguments between you and your, now ex, boyfriend form a persistent migraine between your eyes.

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming. Your relationship had been rocky for months, but you were so busy with other obligations that you hadn’t had the time to confront any of it head on. Fortunately for you, he was more than willing to step up to the plate.

You wouldn’t let yourself admit it out loud, but you almost felt relieved with his absence in your small apartment. That was until you remembered the loss of his half of the rent.

Everything happened so fast, it was hard to process any of it. It all felt like it was swirling around and around too quickly for you to pick any one thing out. Your solution? Alchohol.

You grabbed your keys and hopped into your polished, clean, mint green beetle, setting off for the local dive bar. You could only recall one other time you had been to the small bar, having been dragged there by colleagues in the name of “bonding” after a particularly long day at work.

Drinking wasn’t something you did often, reserving a glass of wine for holidays and special events. Tonight, you decided you needed to make an exception.

As you parked and stepped out of your car, you felt nerves twist in your gut. The place was undoubtedly busy, which wasn’t shocking for a Friday night. People were smoking and talking out front, and you couldn’t help but notice how out of place you must’ve looked.

A knee length grey skirt fell loosely over your hips, paired with a rose colored, ruffled blouse, and a pearl necklace with matching earrings to top it off. Not a single tattoo in sight, and certainly no cigarette in hand. Your heels clicked against the pavement, smoothing down your skirt as you made your way inside.

The second you enter, you’re hit with a haze of smoke and the overwhelming smell of alchohol, nicotine, and sweat. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before you head for the bar.

You shuffle your way over to an empty stool at the front and take a seat, plopping your beaded purse on the counter. As you wait for the bartender to make their way to you, you take a better look at your surroundings. The place felt oddly cozy for being in such a frumpy looking building, and a band was playing some sort of aggressive rock song you had never heard before. Despite it being a little too loud, and a little too cluttered, you were already starting to relax a little.

“Hey there, what can I get for ya?”

You whip your head around at the voice, and your stomach instantly falls into your shoes. It would be impossible not to recognize the dark mop of curls that you got so used to seeing bouncing about the halls you shared all those years ago.

Although now it was pulled back into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, loose curls falling around his face. You’d hate to admit it, but he looked really nice.

“Well if it isn’t the little princess.” he laughs, and you feel your fists clench at the old nickname. “Didn’t think this was really your scene.”

“Well that would be a correct assumption, Munson.” you bite, bouncing back from the initial shock, “Unfortunately, it was the closest bar to my apartment, and I wasn’t in the mood to drive across town.”

Your grumbling makes you feel like a petulant child with a grudge, but you can’t help it. Eddie just always has getting on your nerves.

“I didn’t know you worked here, or I would have made the sacrifice.”

Eddie smiles his big, toothy, infuriatingly smug smile, and shakes his head, “You haven’t changed one bit, huh princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” you demand through gritted teeth, holding on to every ounce of restraint you have not to scream at him to just get you a drink.

He leans forward on the counter with a lopsided, goofy sort of expression, invading your space and ignoring your little outburst. “So what brings you in here tonight, princess? Boy troubles?” he mocks with a pouty tone.

You glare daggers into his skull, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “Just a beer will do.”

He gives a small salute before leaving to get you your drink of choice.

The rest of the night is spent drinking, wallowing, and actively avoiding any and all interactions with the familiar bartender. The minimal interaction you did have involved him pushing every button in sight, and you fighting to maintain an ounce of self control.

Any time your eyes made their way over to him, of their own volition, his eyes were already on you. He had this look, like he knew something you didn’t, and it infuriated you. Oh how you hated him.

It had always been this way, ever since high school. He made it his mission to push you to your limit, and you always had to one up him somehow. It became almost like a game. You weren’t surprised to see he hadn’t changed after all this time. It was almost comforting in way, if you thought about it long enough.

As the night went on, the activity slowly started dying down, and the atmosphere got quieter. You were on your second beer of the night, trying to let the cold liquid take the edge off. Even still, you felt your fingers tap against the counter with anxiety.

How could he leave you to fend for yourself at the drop of a hat? After nine months? Did your relationship hold that little of value? How were you supposed to afford next quarter’s rent? There’s no way you could afford to live in your current apartment. You would have to move. How would you find somewhere decent to stay in such a short amount of time? You were screwed.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re gettin’ ready to close up.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up to see the one person you wanted to see the least right now. His expression was soft. Softer than you’ve ever seen it aimed in your direction. It made you want to dig your nails into his skin.

“You alright?”

The question takes you aback, your brows furrow at the uncharacteristic behavior. “Fine, thanks.” you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink.

He looks at you with what can only be described as sympathy, and you feel your chest tighten. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You mull over the words for a moment. The answer should be so simple. You don’t smoke. In fact, you’ve never smoked once in your life. Why would you ever agree to smoke with him of all people?

But then his hand is outstretched across the bar for you to take a cigarette, and his eyes look so… kind? You’ve never thought of that word to describe him before. Maybe it was the alchohol, or maybe he put some sort of curse on you, because suddenly you’re taking the cigarette and following him out front.

You can’t help but watch as his thumb flicks at the lighter, putting it up to your lips before bringing it to his own. You follow his lead inhaling the smoke, and then you’re instantly coughing and spluttering it back out of your lungs.

He laughs lightly as he cooly blows the smoke to the side to avoid getting it in your face. “I take it you’ve never smoked before? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Munson.” you spit out, face heating up with embarrassment as you make another attempt, ignoring the burning in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, before anyone decides to break it.

“So,” he starts, “You a big time writer now?” he asks, staring at the pavement.

He remembered you wanted to be a writer? You didn’t even think he knew that about you. “English teacher, actually. Hawkins High.”

He looks at you then, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “You stuck around that hell hole? No wonder you’ve still got that stick up your ass.”

You scoff bitterly, “Well I guess some of us are more academically inclined than others.” you glare, “I actually enjoy my job, shocking as that may be to you.”

“I'm sure you do, sweetheart.” Eddie replies smugly, causing you to grit your teeth as he leans against the brick wall of the building. "Gettin' to boss people around all day must be a dream come true for you." The parking lot is almost completely empty at this point.

Of course his civility was just a calm before the storm. You mentally pinch yourself for your momentary lapse of judgement. “God, you are such a-“

“Comedian? Kind soul? Sight for sore eyes?” he offers dramatically, eyes twinkling at your grimace.

“I was going for obnoxious, conceited, prick.” You hiss, stomping out your cigarette, “and I do not have a stick up my ass!” you shout, turning on your heel to leave.

Eddie rushes to catch up to you, laughing boyishly in a way that makes you speed up. “Aw come on, princess, don’t be like that. I was just teasing.”

“I said not to call me that-” You whip around to face him, and suddenly you’re practically chest to chest, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You’re so close you wonder if he can feel your heart racing behind your ribs.

Then he’s looking at you with that look. The one that makes your insides bubble over with fury. The one that makes you feel like he knows some sort of deep secret about you. It makes you want to slap him in his smug face. Yet, for some reason, you can’t seem to look away from his gaze.

Finally, you pull yourself away, and march over to your car. Just as you open your door, you hear a retreating shout of, “Next drink’s on me, princess!” and then you’re out of there faster than you can process your heaving chest and shaky hands.

After that, you somehow end up back in that same bar every Friday. Some sort of force, unbeknownst to you, seemed to draw you in like a magnet. As promised, the next drink was on him… and the next, and the next, no matter how many times you tried to refuse.

No matter how much you tried to talk yourself out of it, you always ended up sitting on the same stool, at the same time, with the same drink in your hand. Every week, without fail, you would leave the bar a fuming, heated mess with only one thing on your mind. Eddie fucking Munson.

This week in particular was different. You were absolutely swamped with assignments that needed to be graded, and you spent all of Thursday night and Friday working on getting them done.

It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you noticed the hiccup in your routine, and for some reason it made you sad. It wasn’t like you were obligated to go every weekend, but a part of you had grown to enjoy your Friday nights at the bar. Then some sick, twisted part of you wondered if he had noticed your absence, but you shoved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.

As the day went on, you convinced yourself it wouldn’t hurt to just go tonight instead. After all it was a Saturday night, and you had already cleared your workload for the week, so it’s not like there was any real harm in it.

Alternatively, it was a Saturday night. Eddie’s band performed Saturday nights. You didn’t want him to think you were there to see him, because you most certainly were not. You just didn’t want to miss out on your weekly drink, that’s all. Nothing more.

Still, it was a Saturday night. It would do you some good to look a little nicer, right?

You start to regret it the second you park your car. The shift in the air is blatantly obvious as you enter walk towards the crowded space. Men out front whistle at you as you walk to the door, and you can feel eyes practically digging into your skin as u head for your usual seat at the bar. Your leg bounces with nerves at the attention. You've never worn this dress before. Never had a reason to. You don't allow yourself to wonder why you chose to wear it tonight.

You ask the bartender for a long island iced tea, and catch yourself checking the small stage in the back of the room. You internally scold yourself and glue your eyes to your drink.

It isn’t long before cheers are heard around the bar, pulling your attention up to see Corroded Coffin walking out on stage.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” Eddie’s voice booms out of the speakers, causing people to whoop and holler in reply. You feel your leg begin to bounce.

He continues talking to the small crowd while his band finishes setting up, and you can’t stop yourself from ogling at him. You desperately want to pull your eyes away, to look at anything else, but you can’t.

He’s wearing an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off his arms, chest, and a sliver of his waist. Your eyes trail across the exposed skin, noticing he has quite a few new tattoos littering it, and your stomach twists. He has leather and chain bracelets decorating his wrists, curls falling wildly around his face, and you notice light bouncing off of his signature rings still adorning his fingers. You definitely don’t remember him looking like this in high school.

As he moves around the stage it’s abundantly clear how confident he is up there. His stage presence is truly impressive, and his voice is really something. It's gotten deeper since the last time you heard it. You subconsciously wet your lips as you watch his fingers move around the neck of his guitar. He’s come a long way since the last time you saw him perform. You can’t help but smile as you watch him in his element.

Then the smile is wiped clean off of your face when he makes direct eye contact with you from across the bar. You freeze, feeling like you suddenly have shards of glass lodged in your throat. Has he known you’ve been sitting here the whole time? If he saw you smiling you might have to run into oncoming traffic.

Then you notice what he’s singing.

“I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely I lie waiting for you I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing I lick my chops and you're tastin' good”

Your stomach flips and you can feel your whole body heating up. Something tells you he notices too, which makes it a million times worse. What the hell is wrong with you?

“I do whatever I want to do ya I'll nail your ass to the sheets A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya I fuck like a beast”

You shift in your seat, the eye contact becoming far too overwhelming. You opt to look down at your lap for the remainder of the song to prevent yourself from doing something embarrassing.

Soon enough the set is over, and the band starts breaking down their set up. You’re so deep in your own thoughts by the end of it that you fail to notice the man approaching you, until his arms are caging you against the bar.

“Well hello there, pretty lady.” You gasp at the familiar voice speaking directly into your ear, feeling his shirt graze your back. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He beams down at you, watching you huff and roll your eyes as you turn to face him. Your fingers wriggle with the efforts not to hit him.

“It was an impulsive decision.” You mutter quietly, eyes briefly darting to his toned arm beside you before snapping back to his face, “I didn’t come yesterday.” You concede, unsure of what else to say.

He smiles, seemingly amused. “I know. Your seat was empty all night.” he says lowly, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s pushing off of the counter to head back behind the bar and help clean up.

So he did notice. Did he miss you? Was he saving your seat, or is it just a coincidence?

You feel dizzy with a million questions. Why did you let him get so close? Why were you going to let him kiss you? Why does he look so good. Why do you care so much? You should have said something, anything.

You finish your drink in silence, watching Eddie as he flits around tidying up the place, and then the bar is closing. You feel your gut twist at the thought of going home, and you don’t quite understand why, but you blame the alchohol.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie jogs up to you as you grab your purse, arm outstretched and offering a cigarette. His hair falls prettily around his shoulders, and you only now notice that he takes much better care of his curls now than he did in high school.

“Care for a smoke?”

His charm must be cranked up to 100 tonight, because, once again, you agree with less hesitation than you would have liked.

You stand out front, Eddie waving goodnight to Garret as he heads to his car, and you watch as the last car whirs out of the lot. Then you are alone. Just you and Eddie. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“How’d you like the show?” he asks, exhaling a puff of smoke in the process.

You handle the burn better this time, holding back a cough from erupting as you take a drag. “It was… good.” You say hesitantly.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, “Just good? Wow, then we really need to get our shit together if we're gonna-“

“You were amazing.” You blurt out, unsure of why you felt the need to boost his ego. You clear your throat before amending your statement, “It… The show was amazing.”

Eddie hums in satisfaction, smile tugging at the corners of his lips around his cig. “You know, you didn’t have to dress all fancy for lil ol’ me.”

You wore a tight, low-backed, black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, sheer black stockings, black boots, and some dainty silver jewelry. Nothing too crazy, but definitely much different from how you would normally dress. Admittedly, you felt a little self conscious.

“Well good thing I didn’t dress fancy for you.” You huff, starting to feel a little silly for trying so hard to fit in. God, did he always have to be so cocky?

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” He starts, pushing off the wall to step towards you. “You look fucking incredible. Of course, you always look incredible.”

Smug bastard.

“Thank you.” You feel yourself flushing at the words, immediately getting sick to your stomach at how much you care what Eddie Munson thinks about how you look. “Glad I got your seal of approval.” You quip sarcastically, desperately trying to pick a fight. Anything to stop you from feeling whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

Why did he always find a way to get under your skin? No one else makes you feel as utterly frustrated as he does.

He’s absolutely unbearable.

You force down another inhale of smoke as you watch Eddie slowly make his way closer to you. The way he’s looking at you makes your mouth go dry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it’s driving you up the wall.

“You know, you don’t always have to be such a brat.” He exhales casually, pausing in front of you. Your heart stops. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me every once in a while.”

“It might.” You rasp out curtly, just now realizing how out of breath you suddenly feel.

He laughs, and the sound makes your insides flip.

“You have such a big fat crush on me, don’t you sweetheart?” He smiles down at you wolfishly, and it almost makes you shrink under his stare. You suddenly are acutely aware of your surroundings.

You scoff and cross your arms defensively, “I most certainly do not have a crush on you, Munson.” You spit out venomously. How dare he even suggest such a thing? It couldn’t be farther from the truth. You loathe him.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, taking a stride closer to you, making you step backwards.

“Think I don’t notice how you stare at me? How you sit up a little straighter when you see me?”

Your back hits the wall.

“You aren’t subtle, princess.”

You feel like a fucking deer in headlights.

“Staring and glaring are two very different things.” You pant, desperately searching for oxygen. Anger burns in your throat at his absolute audacity, and your skin feels like it's buzzing.

“Is that so?”

You can feel his chest press into you as the brick digs into your shoulders. He takes a long inhale of smoke, and your head is screaming at you to push him off of you and curse him the whole way home, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as he grabs your chin, and then, unexpectedly, he‘s pulling your jaw down to part your lips. All you can do is stare at him and his cocky fucking smile at your compliance. You feel like you’re in a trance.

Before you can even think, his lips are pressed against yours and pushing smoke past your lips. You gasp at the contact, effectively inhaling the smoke and sighing against his lips. Your brain short circuits and goes completely numb. His lips feel like the cure to a disease you've been plagued with for years.

For a moment, you almost forget who you’re with, until he pulls back to look at you.

“Well if you hate me so much, then why are you squeezing your thighs together?”

You immediately rip your legs apart, not even realizing what you were doing until it was too late. You can feel steam pouring out of your ears at this point.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

He’s right. For some reason, you do love it. Something about him makes you crave more, and you’re starting to believe he may be an incubus. It’s making you go insane.

So you finally wave the white flag.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Munson.”

So he does. Again, and again, and again, until somehow you end up back at Eddie’s trailer with your wrists handcuffed to his bed frame and your clothes thrown around his room.

Hard rock music plays faintly in the distance, and the room smells vaguely of incense and weed. You feel like you've been transported to an alternate dimension.

His lips feel like they’re everywhere. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and then he’s leaving sweet little kisses on your tits, making you whine and arch your back towards him.

“Gotta teach you how to let loose, yeah?”

He gently tugs on one of your nipples and you gasp, and Eddie can’t help but laugh as he kisses his way further down your body.

“You’re fucking adorable when you’re not being a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You groan as he spreads your legs open, kissing and biting at your thighs. “Shut up, Eddie.”

“Oh I’m Eddie now?”

Your hips buck up in frustration, glaring down at him with a scowl. It feels like he’s been teasing you for forever. “Eddie” you whine out, “Stop teasing.”

He slowly starts kissing closer to where you need him most, but not quite close enough. “You don’t think you deserve it? Why do you think your wrists are locked up then, sweetheart?”

You wiggle and writhe beneath him, but don’t answer. Eddie moves his face closer to your cunt, and you finally think you’re going to get what you want, and then he blows on your clit. You whimper and clench around nothing, flinching away from him. It's absolutely pathetic, getting so worked up when he’s barely even done anything yet.

“I asked you a question.” Eddie tries again, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your thigh while he waits for a response.

“My wrist’s are locked up because…” You take a deep sigh and force yourself to just spit it out so that he’ll touch you already. “because I was being a brat." you grumble. He’s lucky your wrists are locked up right now, you think.

Eddie kisses your thigh in approval, “That’s right, and bratty girls don’t get to call the shots. Right?”

You huff and pull against your restraints once more, before ultimately complying. “Right.”

You figure it won’t do you any good to act out, especially given your current position.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Eddie grins up at you, before finally leaving a gentle kiss right on your clit.

You throw your head back into the pillows, immediately feeling relief at the small touch. He then runs his tongue up your slit, swirling it nice and slow around your little button, making you sigh and melt into the bed. His curls tickle your thighs where he works diligently.

It quickly becomes apparent that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes you wonder how many other women have been in this exact same position. The thought makes you dig your nails into your palms, but the it’s is quickly forgotten when you feel him slide a finger into you.

"See?" He starts, words muffled by your folds, "Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh? To take the reigns?"

You flutter around him, and every fiber of your being wants to say something snippy in response, but all you get out is a blissed out sigh. He hums happily.

His fingers are much thicker than your own, calloused from his years of playing guitar. Looking down you notice he took all his rings off and set them next to you on the bed. He never takes his rings off, ever, you remember that. For some reason the simple act makes your heart leap out of your chest.

He pulls his face back from your slick for a moment just to watch the way you suck in his finger, and he moans at the sight of you. The sound makes your brain feel like static. “Fuck, baby, you needed it bad, huh? You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets and I've barley started.”

All you can do is nod your head and hum in response, and your jaw drops open with a soft moan as he slides in a second finger with ease.

“How long have you been wanting me like this, sweetheart? Be honest.” He asks, never faltering in his pace.

You whine at the question, embarrassment flooding your features as you turn your face to hide it in his pillow. He quickly kisses up your body, gently turning your head back to look at him. “You can tell me. No need to be embarrassed.”

You take one good look at his face, and you know that he already knows. He’s giving you that look. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Mm… Since-” you hesitate to finish your sentence, and then a particularly hard thrust of his fingers does it for you. “Since fucking high school! Christ, Eddie-”

A groan erupts from the back of his throat as he kisses you hard, licking and biting at your bottom lip, and then suddenly his mouth is back on your clit and you feel like you’re floating. He picks up the pace, eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

You feel your hips start to move against him, and he groans into your pussy making you cry out. “Yeah, that’s it.” He mumbles against your core, “Ride my face, honey.”

You can’t control the plethora of sounds that escape you, and your body seems to have a mind of its own. You writhe on the bed as Eddie devours you, holding your thighs over his shoulders. He searches for your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers, and he knows he’s found it when your eyebrows pinch up, a high pitched whine reverberating throughout his bedroom.

You can feel him smile against your cunt, continuing his assault against that spot that makes you see stars. He never stops looking up at you to watch your face contort with pleasure. His already dark eyes are now fully eclipsed with lust and need.

“Oh my god-” you gasp out, heaving for air as your legs begin to shake around his head.

He can tell you’re close from the way you’re squeezing his fingers and writhing under him. He doesn’t speed up or change his pace, he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moving the flat of his tongue back and forth against your clit and curling his fingers up into you just right.

“Eddie, mm… i’m so close-”

The second the words leave your lips, he pulls off of you. His mouth and fingers are completely gone in an instant, and you feel like you’re about to cry.

“What the fuck?!” You shout at him, voice weak with tears threatening to spill, “Why did you stop?”

Eddie grins from ear to ear, lips and chin glistening with your slick, “We talked about this, remember?” he says cockily, leaning down to lick a bead of sweat from your chest, “Brats don’t get to call the shots. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”

You grumble and kick your legs out in frustration, but he kisses you to make it better. You slowly let him melt you back into putty in his hands, tasting yourself on his tongue. He presses his knee directly against your puffy cunt, groaning at your wetness against his skin as you sigh into his lips. You go to move your hips against him but he quickly stops you, moving his hand up instead to push down his boxers, his dick already hard and aching to feel you.

“Promise I’ll make you feel so good, just gotta be good for me first alright?”

You nod your head frantically, completely and utterly at his mercy. He looks like sex personified, and you just want to feel him. “Please, Eddie-”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing your cheek as he slides the tip of his cock through your folds. “Awh, look at you and your manners.” he taunts, but this time you can't seem to care. In fact, you realize, you kind of like it.

You like hearing his voice.

You like it when he’s mean.

He pushes just the tip against your dripping hole, and you’re practically sobbing. “How can I say no when you asked so politely?” and then he’s sliding all the way into you, and you’re already a wreck.

“Holy shit- you feel so fucking good” he groans and huffs as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you, making sure you feel every drag of his cock inside you.

You’re already panting, stretching your hands against the cool metal to try and grasp for anything that can ground you, but you come up empty. He’s so much bigger than you expected him to be, and the stretch is practically making you drool.

“Eddie, fucking- god”

“That’s it, keep screaming my name just like that baby.” He encourages, kissing and biting at your collar bone, sure to leave marks, “You sound so goddamn pretty when you say my name.”

Eddie adjusts your position, pulling your leg over his hip and pushing it against your chest. The new angle has your back arching off the bed, a whimpering mess as you claw at the handcuffs.

Eddie leans his head to rest in the crook of your neck, panting and whining into your ear. “Shit, princess-”

Your cunt squeezes him at the nickname, and the moan that slips past your lips is guttural. “Oh, fuck-” He clamps his eye shut with a deep groan, gripping your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave little bruises.

That’s the first time he’s used that nickname since you started, and he knows it. He did it on purpose.

He lifts his head to look at your blissed out face, a goofy, lopsided, fucked out grin on his lips. “I knew it.” he gloats, thrusts getting harder, “Look at me.”

You muster up the energy to flutter your eyes open and look at him. The pretty smile on his face makes your legs shake.

“You like it when I call you that,” he beamed, “That’s why you hated when I used that name for you in public, huh. Cause’ it made you fuckin’ soak your panties?” he laughed meanly, watching tears fill your waterline. He leans down to brush his lips against yours, voice lowering into something sweeter. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you practically scream. He looked so pretty, and he felt so good, and you wanted him closer. It was all too much, you needed to hold something, anything. You needed to pull yourself back down to reality.

“Eds- Eddie, please can I touch you?” your fingers twitch where they’re held above your head, “Wanna feel you- please, i’ve been so good-”

Eddie whines at your sweet pleas, but maintains composure. He wanted to stick to the plan.

“Oh, honey, no” he pouts out at you mockingly, watching the way you strain for anything to grasp and his dick twitches inside you, “No, you gotta give me one first. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Too fucked out to formulate a simple response, you simply sob and nod your head. Your hips start to rock up into his thrusts, but Eddie grabs your hips with one hand and pushes them back down into the sheets. You feel like a live wire.

Then he brings his thumb down to your clit, gently rubbing circles on it, and your eyes clamp shut. He kisses your open mouth and you try your best to kiss him back, but he’s moaning into your mouth, and he’s touching you, and fucking you, and Eddie Munson is fucking you, and it’s all so good that you just can’t.

“Eddie, i’m gonna-” you babble, almost incoherent, feeling the knot getting tighter and tighter, “Please please please don’t stop!”

He puts more pressure on your clit and leaves sweet little kisses on your neck, “I’m not got stop, it’s okay.”

You’re so close you feel like you’re about to explode.

“You can cum for me, princess”

That’s all you needed to see stars, black clouding your vision as he rides out your high, not once stopping or slowing down his pace. You can vaguely hear him talking you down, but nothing registers past your ears ringing.

Then your wrists are released and he’s flipping you over so that you’re on top, straddling him, and your hands and lips are all over him in an instant. In this position he hits your g-spot perfectly, and you can’t help but sob against his chest at the overstimulation.

“Just one more for me, I promise.” he soothes, gently rubbing your hip as his guides your hips back and forth on his cock, making you both cry out. You start to set your own pace riding him, leaning back against his legs to give you the perfect angle.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters, breathlessly, “My pretty girl- fuck.”

Eddie was now moaning and whining louder and more freely than before, you can tell he’s getting close now too, and you’re already reaching your second climax of the night.

“Wanted you for so long,” Eddie admits, gripping your hip tighter, “can’t believe this is real.”

You whine at the confession, leaning forward to press your lips to the shell of his ear. You make sure to let your pretty noises and praises flow freely, just for him. Your fingers gently brush hairs from his forehead before scratching your way down his chest.

“You fuck me so well, Eds”

“Oh my god- you feel so good”

“Please, Eddie, I wanna feel you cum”

He’s an absolute mess, wrapping both hands around your hips and bending his knees up so that he can fuck you down onto him. “Wanna cum with you sweetheart. Want you to give me another one.” He rambles against your chest, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red marks behind.

“I’m so close, honey, c’mon. You can give it to me."

You bite and claw at his skin, so close to tipping over the edge.

"Soak me.”

You collapse forward as tears of overstimulation fall onto his inked skin, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder to ground himself while he paints your walls white. You ride out your highs, clutching each other like a lifeline. When you’re both back on planet earth, he cleans you up nice an gentle, and whispers pretty little praises into your skin as you fall asleep with your limbs intertwined.

“Knew you had a crush on me, princess.”

Let’s just say you no longer have to go apartment hunting!

asks are open!

#brairslair #brairs fics #eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things smut #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut #angst #fluff #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #idiots in love

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey, hope you're doing good! How about Hotch helping Reader paint her toes? It's one of those everything shower days so she's doing all her self care (including washing her hair) so her arms are tired, and he decides to help her 🥺

I’m doing well! How are you?

“Honey you can’t climb up there,” Aaron laughs through the words as he watches you climb onto your kitchen counter, hair wrapped up in a towel as you fix the skirt of one of your house dresses.

“I’ll only be here for a bit,” you say playfully as Aaron turns to face you, a glass of matcha in his hands. He gives it to you without a word, standing between your parted legs as you take a sip. “Thank you.”

“What do you need, honey?” He asks, and you smile guiltily. You’ve not done anything wrong and even if you did Aaron would only be upset if it was life threatening.

You stir the ice in your drink around with your straw. “I want to paint my toes, with that new nail polish that I got the other day,” Aaron knows the one you’re talking about.

You and him had gone out after your doctor’s visit for lemonade, cinnamon sugar pretzel twists and a tiny shopping spree- in which you’d picked up the polish you’re referring to now.

You tuck your cheek to your shoulder and smile, “But my arms are achy.”

Aaron laughs again, kissing your forehead. His hands coast down your back, pulling you into his chest a little. “Where’s the polish?”

You giggle, a further smile dimpling your boyfriend’s cheeks as you wiggle out of his hold and lean back on the counter to reach for the watermelon red polish. Aaron’s hands stay on your thighs to keep you steady.

“Alright, hop down and I’ll paint them in the living room.” Despite his words, Aaron’s hands guide you down and onto your feet, your dress picking up at your hips making it even shorter. He pushes it down, hand sliding over your bum.

“Do you wanna watch the new episode of ‘Interview with the Vampire,’ while you do it?” You link your fingers for the short walk to the living room, swinging your hands.

“Yes honey, we can look at it.”

#aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x black reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner x y/n

[angelplummie]

art humping your thigh while you're too busy analyzing his recent matches <33

mhm. u sit with your laptop in bed while art kisses your neck. he’s supposed to be watching too but he’s sleepy, he doesn’t wanna watch anymore, he wants to feel. he presses his lips to the base of your neck, just above your collar bone. you tilt your jaw up to allow his way with you, but you keep your eyes trained on the screen.

“you kept missing on thursday because you centre yourself to the left just a bit. he always hit it to the right and you had to scramble.”

“mm.”

his voice reverberated in your throat as his lips stayed against you.

“i don’t know if you’re playing this guy again, but it’s something to keep in mind.”

“ok.”

he moves over you, shifting his weight till both of his legs are either side of one of yours. he holds your shoulder like a child holds a teddy bear.

his head nestles into your neck, his hair tickles your chin, and you sigh.

“art im trying to help you. they’re fucking you. i don’t want to watch my husband get fucked on the court.”

“can you help me somewhere else?”

you readjust so you can see the laptop better, and kiss his scalp.

“help yourself.”

on the video, art lunges forward, his lean body extending as he grunts like a man and pounds the ball away. sweat pours from every pore on his forehead, chest, arms, and he shines in the sun. it cuts to his competitor, who grazes the ball with his racket to no avail.

in your bed, art presses down onto you, dragging himself backwards. he mewls, hoping to get more of your attention. instead of acknowledging him you pet his hair with a lazy wrist, eyes never leaving the screen. he was playing better now. he won the match after all, but it was still important to review his performance. if he got too comfortable he would start slipping. you needed him on a tight leash if he was going to keep crushing.

he rotates his hips, each time crushing your thigh with a force that must be painful to him. each layer of clothes that separated his flesh from yours slid against the other, the phantom of your touch driving him to desperation.

“you did well for this last set.”

“yeah?”

he pushed himself forward, and drew himself back raking his throbbing groin against your lower thigh. his breath shuddered on your chest. he was working up a rhythm, a dragging, quivering, breathless rhythm.

“yeah. no notes, donaldson.”

“hmm. thank you.”

“are you hard?”

“obviously.”

“i’m not helping you.”

“obviously.”

you laugh. you swirl your fingers in his cropped blonde hair.

“you can do it. i believe in you.”

he doesn’t reply, just groans. his knee was bent, and he held himself up ever so slightly so as to drive himself against you with the most force he could. in his shorts was a sticky, leaking cock, rubbed sensitive. in your panties was a wet, aching pussy. but one of you needed to think of his career.

on the video he sat down, a rest period, with his shirt off, leaning back with his legs spread.

“oh, fuck,” he said, teeth clenched.

you could feel the long thick imprint of his cock, and through all the fabric you could still feel it twitch. you sighed and closed the laptop as his humping quickened and his knee raised further between your legs. as he drove himself down upon you, he knocked his knee to the throbbing of your clit. you breathed deeply.

“you did a good job on thursday. i’m proud of you.”

“thank you. thank you.”

your hand moved to his back, tight from digging his fingers into your shoulder for purchase. he slammed his hips down, making a fwop fabric sounds. you grunted airily.

“that’s enough,” you breathed.

his hips stilled on top of you, pressed to you. he lifted his head, lips parted and cheekbones pink.

“you have a match tommorow. use it.”

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers smut #older art donaldson smut #30s art donaldson smut #edging kink #i’m going insane

[marvelobsessed134]

hey could i request something? So i was thinking about g!p beefy!natasha x fem reader and i know its the wrong month for this but what about no nut november in where r teases nat all month long by constantly lightly grazing over nats clothed dick, teasing her with outfits or “accidental“ dirty talk and when they go to sleep r lays on nats chest and before nat falls asleep r randomly starts to massage nats balls a bit ( idk how to describe all that stuff my english is not that well). On december 1st r finally gives her what she wants in lets her fuck her. I hope you are comfortable with this request and hope you have a great day🤍

I can’t stand the way you tease

Pairings: Beefy!Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p Natasha, dom!natasha, sub!reader, rough sex, teasing, degradation, praise, daddy kink because yes

Natasha can’t even remember why she decided to take Tony and the guys up on the ‘no nut November’ challenge. And she especially regrets it now because ever since you found out about it, you’ve made it your mission to tease her to the highest degree.

Walking around your shared apartment in little to no clothes, bending over in short skirts in front of her, saying dirty words to her as you lay down at night and not so subtly massaging her balls which Nat could’ve sworn she could’ve came in her pants from.

Then finally, December first rolls around and the torture is over. When the redhead woke up and walked into the kitchen seeing you in a short teddy nightgown, is when she pounced. You were humming to yourself washing the dishes and preparing for breakfast when you felt two large hands roughly grab your hips pulling them towards a large bulge.

You gasped in surprise, “Nat- right now?”

“Yes, right now” she growled, “You’ve been teasing me all month last month and now you’re finally getting what you deserve.”

Your panties dampened, you of course were also frustrated about not being able to have sex with your girlfriend. Opting to having to shove your fingers inside your cunt.

The assassin humps you, grinding her crotch against yours before quickly pulling down her pants and lifting your nightgown along with tearing your panties off.

You moaned when you felt her hard, leaking tip against your wet entrance. “You want this?” She husked.

“Yes daddy.” You replied breathily and she didn’t waste any time thrusting into you, pumping at full speed and gripping your hips like a vice. You were a moaning mess, gripping the counter as you rolled your eyes back every time she hit your g spot.

“Fuck baby, so tight. You’re such a whore for teasing me.” She drawled, leaning over to roughly suck on your neck leaving a hickey.

“Mmmm I’m sorry daddy! I was just having fun- but I missed having you inside me.”

“You did huh? Do you even think you deserve to cum?”

“Yes! I’ve been such a good girl so far please let me cum!” You were crying at this point, desperately trying to reach the edge.

“Fine, go ahead and cum. Cum on my cock.” And as if on cue, you clenched around her and released your juices all over her cock.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned.

Natasha slapped your ass as she continued to fuck you, reaching her own high. “Such a dirty girl.”

Finally, she felt herself getting to the edge and she pulled out before shooting her load on your lower back.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #g!p natasha

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 15

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

We Don't Know How This Could End (let's hope it won't have to) by @buoyantsaturn

"I’m not married, I thought you were married!” “You’re the one wearing a ring!” “Well, so are you!” followed by: relationship fluff, divorce jokes, and of course, a(n un)healthy dose of miscommunication

OBSESSED OBSESSED OBSESSED OBSESSED OBSESSED. secret relationship has ALWAYS been my everything and love at first sight plus married plus literally everything. i’m. gonna lose it. this fic was so ROMCOM but in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY, like there were stakes and angst but it was still lighthearted? somehow? like i KNEW it was gonna end well bc i had SO MUCH faith in them. like the best possible romcoms. i adore this fic always

2. could this be love at first sight? (oh wait, I said that before) by @buoyantsaturn

Nico sighed, unable to believe what was actually about to come out of his mouth. “Will you come with me to a friend’s wedding?” “Like...as your date?” 

THE RINGPOP THING WAS SO ROMANTIC 😭😭 truly this fic made me SWOON. every good amazing lovely incredible trope at once i ADORED. secret relationship especially my fucking BELOVED, but FAKE RELATIONSHIP to SECRET RELATIONSHIP??? I WENT INSANE??? cj as per usual u ATE. also i know this isn’t the focus but if i was piper i would have gone BALLISTIC 💀 "why is everyone talking about your relationship at my wedding" yeah me personally i would have blown up LMFAO

3. I'll Be There For You by @buoyantsaturn

remember that one part in FRIENDS where ross gets married and monica sleeps with chandler because she's lonely, and then they do a really bad job of keeping their relationship a secret? that's this fic, except it's solangelo

is this one similar in vibes to fic rec #2? yes. do i care at all? no. i could (and have done) sit in front of CJs fics and just scroll & keep scrolling. never misses. this was so FUN and i LAUGHED and POOR LEO. what a good time

4. Will Happen, Happening, Happened by @buoyantsaturn

“Nico!” Will’s voice came from behind him, followed by the slamming of a door. “Nico, I figured it out!” Will ran toward him, grabbing his arms and dragging him down once he got close enough, and pressed their lips together. “All I had to do was-- Annabeth! How long have you been standing there?” “I knew it!” Annabeth exclaimed. “No, wait, uh--” Will shoved Nico away suddenly. “This isn’t what it looks like?” (Or: 5 times their relationship gets found out and 1 time it didn't)

adventure time au!!! hell yeah!!! and yeah at this point i realise i was indeed scrolling thru the secret relationship tag in buoyantsaturn's works page when i was making these bookmarks. whatever. i have Moods. secret relationship and 5+1 are literally my fave tropes of all time, okay, i loved this, it was funny and camp and honestly what more do you need

5. Knight In Shining Armor by @buoyantsaturn

“The knights will need to keep a close eye on these travelers for the duration of their stay. You, however, Sir William, must keep close watch on the Prince." "Of course, Your Highness," Will said.

the my lord to my love pipeline…..but my knight remaining constant……oh i’m weak in the knees. royal aus will ALWAYS kill be and they are one thousand billion trillion times better when one of them is a knight it is ICONIC. ICONIC i say. and another secret relationship fic sue me i hope yall are int he mood lmfao

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

#thats seventy five fics recced!! holy moly!!! more to come :D #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #secret relationship #prince nico #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I think my back is ok now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Tuesday comes too quickly. You don’t sleep the night before. It’s more than just Lee and your mother arguing that keeps you awake. The anxiety of your meeting bears down on you like an open maw, ready to devour you.

You don’t expect it to go well. You’re not even sure why you’re doing it. 

That one thought repeats over and over. You don’t have to. You can cancel. You can make another excuse and stay a loser. That’s easy. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary. Because new things are hard. 

You languish in bed as the time ticks by. You got to get up and get moving. Soon, you’ll do something. Soon. 

You roil in the trepidation. Each move, each little thing, is a gargantuan task. You sneak out to wash your face and make yourself as presentable as you can. You waited too long. You have five minutes to put something on that isn’t wrinkled and stale. 

You put on a black sweatshirt, hoping the little balls of lint aren’t visible. Maybe you can get away with just turning the microphone on. You open the computer and shift in the chair. One minute. 

You find the email and scroll down to the link. You hover over it and stare. Noon on the dot. Your hand falters and you click the Zoom meeting. It opens in the browser and your breath traps in your chest.  

The little box in the corner is black as you leave the red line through the camera icon as the mic catches the rustle of your shirt. There’s a man on screen. He sits before an office backdrop but you can’t tell if its digitally generated or real. His blond hair is combed back and he sports a thick beard and glasses. He wears a wool sweater over a collared shirt and stares down the camera. 

“Hello,” he speaks, “anyone there?” 

You clear your throat and croak, nearly choking on your own spit.  

“Here,” you manage to squeak. 

“Ah, hello there, may I ask you turn your camera on?” His voice is low and lilted, almost smoky in a way. 

You hesitate and scratch your neck, letting your fingers wander up to your scalp. The itch spread, making sitting still unbearable. You wince as you hear someone in the kitchen, the fridge door closes heavily and a dish clinks on the counter. 

“Hello?” The voice comes again. 

You panic and hit the keyboard. You steady your hand and tap the camera, shying away as you slouch in your chair. The dim glow of your bedside lamp leaves you in shadow. Still, you feel exposed. 

“Better,” he says but with little enthusiasm, “well, I suppose we best get to the meat of things,” he adjusts his posture. 

“Okay,” you murmur and cross your arms, looking evasively at the wall. 

“Good to finally meet. I’m Professor Smith,” he introduces himself and calls you by name. 

“You too,” you utter out of courtesy. This is torture to you. 

“Now, you’ve done very well on your completed work,” his eyes scan as he looks at the screen before him, "you’ve shown improvement up until a few weeks ago. You do have a lot of potential to be successful here--” 

You nod and hunch down further. You just feel worse. You’re a lazy slob. You didn’t finish your work just like you never finish the laundry or cleaning your room. 

“Irene!” Lee’s voice booms on the other side of the wall and you wince, looking over your shoulder then back to the computer. You huddle closer, hoping he didn’t hear that. Your mother’s drone responds to the holler. 

“Perhaps it is the format? We could explore another option for your remaining assignments. I can accommodate where necessar--” 

“Fuck off!” Lee shouts and a loud bang hits the hallway wall. You gulp and your lips part. 

“Lee, please, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t--” 

“Should’ve known better than to trust a whore!” Lee barks. 

You cover your face and shrink down. No! Not now. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks and you separate your fingers, looking through them. You drop your hands and nod. 

“Sorry--” 

Another loud thump, this time against your door and your mother sobs loudly as she slides down the other side. You stammer and your lip trembles as you stare mortified at the lens in the frame of the laptop. This is awful. 

“What is happen--” 

You wiggle your fingers on the touchpad and hit End Call. You retract and wrap your arms around your head, folding over your lap as you rock. How humiliating. You can’t believe that happened. Well, you can. It’s what always happens. 

Your mother and Lee continue to argue, their fight just outside your door. You shake your head as you stay curled over. You don’t know why she does this. These men come around, call her names, knock her around, and she lets them come right back. 

A tinkling noise comes from the speaker. Professor Smith is calling you. You decline the call. An email chimes in at the corner. It’s from him as well. You see the preview, a response to his last email. 

‘Please respond or I will call authorities to confirm your saf....’ 

You click on the notification to expand the full message. You sigh and don’t bother reading the rest as you hit reply. 

‘Everything is fine. I will take the fail. Thank you.’ 

Another call comes in. Just leave me alone! You hit the red button again and delete his last email. And he calls again. Ugh. What does he care. You’re sure he has lots of students to worry about. Another email and another call. Back and forth until you accidentally hit the wrong key. 

He appears again, closer to the lens as his forehead lines, “hello, hey, hey,” he sits back, holding up a hand as you scramble, panicking as you fidget and try to figure out what to do, “don’t hang up, alright? Don’t, or I will be obligated to call the police.” 

As he commands you, your mother and Lee continue their sparring in the hall, voices raised though not as clear from the front room. You sniff and rub your cheek, soothing yourself as you bring up your other hand to chew on your sleeve. 

“Are you in danger?” He asked pointedly. You shake your head. “What is all that then?” 

He’s quiet and you are enveloped again in the chaos outside your room. You shrug and tilt your head to one side. You look down. 

“My mom...” 

He sighs, “look, I wouldn’t have taken the time to call if I didn’t think you could do this. Perhaps, this was the wrong avenue. So, is it possible we meet somewhere neutral. In person?” 

You shudder and sit up as much as you can, wringing your hands, “I... I... don’t drive.” 

“That’s alright, is there a library near you, yeah? I can find my way.” 

You frown and flick your lip under your teeth several times. You see yourself in the little box. You look scary as your eyes are pools of shadows. 

“Uh...” you pull your hands apart and open a new tab, happy to have your image off the screen. You type into the search. You think there’s a library close by. “Yes, um, there is...” 

“Send me the location. We’ll reschedule. When are you available? Thursday? I’m afraid tomorrow I’m booked up.” 

You switch back to the video call. You feel tears tightening your throat and ready to spring. You shake your head and paste the URL of the library branch into the chat. His eyes flit down to read it. 

“Thursday,” you repeat but it’s not as much a question as you mean. 

“Thursday is good. Can we do earlier? Ten?” He asks. 

You don’t know. You’re not used to making decisions. You don’t get asked for your preference ever. 

“Sure,” you answer, just wanting to end the call and hide in bed. 

“Alright, I’ll pencil you in,” he says, “shall I stay on the call until that...” he pauses as Lee continues to bluster, “subsides?” 

“No,” you shake your head. 

He stares at you, his forehead lined with disapproval. Why does he care so much? He doesn’t know you. 

“Are you certain?” He intones. 

You nod, “I have to go.” 

You end the call and shut the computer. Your stomach is a jumble and you’re jittering with adrenaline. All your life, you’ve hidden behind these walls; you’ve hidden all that goes on there. To have someone witness it is worse than the yelling and hitting itself. 

You ignore the chirp from the laptop and throw yourself into bed. Thursday. So, another torturous purgatory begins, waiting to face the professor and your incompetence once more. 

📓

Thursday comes too quickly. 

You sit in your room and convince yourself to go. It was easier when it was just a computer screen, though even that was difficult. Only for you because you’re so messed up. Because you can’t do anything. 

What else can you do? The whole night you were awake thinking about how you would tell your mother. If you flunk out, you default on the student loan and you’re even deeper in the pit. The true consequences of your laziness are clearer now and you can’t let your sloth bury you again. If you do, you may as well give up on everything. Even life itself. 

So, you have no choice. You’re being given a last chance. Again. You’d feel even worse for not taking it than you would for failing at it. 

You pull on a hoodie and grab your house key and your knapsack with your computer and notebook tucked inside. That’s all you really have. No phone, no wallet. Just the bare minimum.  

You shuffle to the door, standing just inside as you muster your courage. You check your digital watch, an old Casio you’ve had for years. The numbers are dim and hard to read in the dark. You have to get going. 

You emerge and go down to the kitchen to sneak a sip of water before you go. Your room is always so dry at night. You drain a glass and rinse it out, leaving it beside the sink. As you turn around, you hear your mother’s bedroom door and the slap of her slippers as she slinks in. 

“Ah, honey,” she smiles dopily. You can smell liquor from there. She might even still be drunk as her hangovers usually keep her abed. “There you are! Oh, gosh, are you going somewhere?” 

“Mm, library,” you answer, “for school.” 

“Oh, smart girl,” she slurs. You try to smile but it’s shaky and weak. Your mom tries, you know that, so you can’t hate her. “Can you stop by the shop on your way? I got a twenty. Wouldn’t mind some vodka.” 

You pick at a fingernail, “mom, I don’t... I don’t like buying that stuff.” 

“Mm, I know, but I...” she sways on her feet and belches into her fist, “never mind. I’ll just ask Lee when he comes by.” 

“He’s coming?” You ask warily. 

“Sure, sure,” she turns and staggers to the fridge, “he must be missing me by now.” 

She bends, leaning on the door as she opens it, and peruses the mostly empty shelves. You leave her and go down the hall. You grab your shoes and slip them on, once more stopping at the threshold. Keep going. You made it this far. 

You let yourself out and lock the door behind you. You take the stairs down to the first level and continue out onto the street. You keep to the edge of the pavement as you weave around other pedestrians that pass. 

Your lips move as you recite the directions to yourself. You were sure to memorise the route as best as you could. You get turned around but right yourself and make it to the corner when you can see the grey brick of the library. 

You wait at the light before you cross and your heart begins to race the closer you get. Oh no, you don’t know if you can do this. You want to just run away. What if he sees you and changes his mind? I mean, look at you. You’re not some perky coed, you’re... you. 

You stare up at the facade and the large letters over the entrance. You take the first step, then the next. You focus on that. Right foot, left foot. Little things, one at a time. You can do this. You have to. 

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #the gentlemen #a guiding hand

[luimagines]

Four Loving Hours

Another comission!

They asked for Four going out with Reader and maybe getting a shy first kiss in. I tried my best to oblige. <3

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Four took in a deep breath and tried to straighten his hair out once more. He was nervous but excited.

You had finally agreed to spend some time with him. He really wanted it to be a date but he wasn’t about to push his luck when it took him more than the usual amount of courage he could muster just to ask to get you alone.

He also pulled down and straightened his tunic and tried to be as presentable as possible.

He left his house with high hopes and a picnic basket.

Walking through Castle Town only serves to heighten his anxiety. What if he messes up? What if he makes a fool out of himself? What if he ruins any chance he might have had with you? What if he makes himself look like such an idiot that you laugh at him and then the whole town knows just how much of a loser he is?

Four finds himself at your front door.

His thoughts make him think that this is a dumb idea. It halts his hand right as he’s about to knock on the door. He should leave. He should just call it off. He can send a message later saying that he didn’t feel good and if you both can reschedule.

The doors opens

“Oh!” It’s your mother. She smiles brightly before he can say anything, and calls back into the house. “Honey! Link is here!”

“Thanks mom!” You call back from the beyond.

Four gulps quietly and smiles back at your mother, wanting to make a good impression despite the fact his name is a household name at this point. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing her for a little bit. I’ll have her back before sun down.”

Your mother’s smile seems to widen and she steps back. “It might be a while before they come out. Do you want to come inside?”

“No! No! I’m ready, I’m here!” You cry out before he can respond. You kiss your mother on the cheek before ushering her back inside. “We’ll be safe and make good choices and come back before you know it. Ok, goodbye!”

Your mother laughs but closes the door behind her.

Four feels a little dumbfounded. He had prepared to answer her but he wasn’t prepared for the way you sent yourself flying out of the house just to see him. He didn’t think you’d be this excited about a small picnic by the lake.

Unable to process the very abrupt cut to the social interaction he was having, he glances over your apparel while you straighten yourself out as well. You’ve put more conscious effort than usual into your hair, and he doesn’t think he’s seen that shirt before. Is that new?

There’s a slight floral scent in the air now. Did you put on new perfume too?

Four feels himself blush a bit. At least he wasn’t the only one who wanted to look nice for this. “I like this.” He gestures to you. “I could get used to more of this.”

You cough and get a delightful shade of pink dusted over your features. You even bless his ears with a small giggle, albeit a confused one. “You just gestured to all of me.”

“Yes.”

You gulp, brightening into a scarlet red over your features.

Four feels like a total dork as he holds out his free arm. “Ready?”

You bite your lip deliciously and slip your arm in his. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Four grins and begins to lead the way to the lake, ignoring all the stares that come his way. He hopes that you’re not too bothered by it. He didn’t stop to think about the gossip that will no doubt sprout from this.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He says in the lull of silence, wanting to distract from the fact that the people are no doubt watching. Four wiggles the basket in his arm to bring your attention to it. “I think I packed enough food to feed a small army. So feel free to eat as much as you want.”

You snort and shake your head. “You always do this. I promise you, I get fed enough at home as it is.”

Four bites his lip and tilts his head away from you, trying (and failing) to play innocent. “Let me do this. I don’t cook enough as it is.”

“Oh, so I’m your guinea pig?” You tease. He finds it in himself to relax as he answers you. “Of course! Dad won’t let me in the kitchen otherwise. Something about how blacksmiths only work with one type of stove and are a risk to burning down the house.”

You laugh a little more. “I’ve always liked your dad. But isn’t your grandpa a blacksmith as well?”

“Guess who’s not allowed in the kitchen either.”

You laugh louder, more carefree and Four forgets his anxieties just for a little bit. He smiles with you, taking in your radiance and brilliance. Beautiful. You’re beautiful. There’s no other word for it. Four can feel his breath get stuck in his throat, feeling content to simply watch you.

Before he realizes it, you’ve both reached the lake in the nick of time. He’s quick to set up the blanket and  get the food ready while you’re busy admiring the scenery as the light becomes more moody. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here at this time of day. It’s beautiful.”

Four pauses and looks back towards you, no doubt with a love stricken look on his face. “I’ll try to bring you out more often then. The world is beautiful no matter where we find ourselves… We just have to look at it.”

You hum and look back down at him, sitting down without much thought to your movement.

You kiss cheek and he stills.

Four can feel you grow a bit nervous from his reaction, or lack of one if he had to be more honest with himself. His heart begins to shoot in a rapid fire in his chest and he forces himself to look up.

You seem to regret your actions fairly quickly. That just won’t do. “Sorry! That was a little uncalled for, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. I should have at least asked.”

“You missed.” Four blurts. 

“What?”

What, indeed! What on earth possessed him to say that?

Four meets your gaze head on, willing the blush off of his face so he can keep it straight. “I said you missed.”

You seem to fluster even more and lean closer, even as you struggle to meet his eyes. “Did I?”

Four leans closer as well, not entirely sure where he plans for this to go. “I’m sure you did.”

You gulp a little, mirroring him subconsciously. “And where was I supposed to kiss you then?”

Four bites his lip once more and he notices that your eyes dart to the small movement. His confidence begins to grow more by the second. “I can show you.”

You lean even more and he can feel the way your nose brushes against his. “Show me?”

“Will you let me?” His voice drops to a whisper.

“Always.”

Four closes the distance. He’s not sure what to do, but he’s quickly aware that you don’t either. He doesn’t try to think much about it and simply lets his emotions and desires guide him, hoping that it’s at least a nice experience for you.

Your lips are soft against his and it makes him smile. A hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other rests at the back of your neck, pulling you deliciously closer.

The food has all been forgotten at this point.

Four can feel your hand come up and snake their way into his hair as well. He can feel the slight tug and follows the direction you give him to deepen the kiss as it is.

He has to pull back a little to take a breath. While he was aware that a kiss could be breathtaking, he didn’t think he would literally forget to breathe during said kiss.

“Link.” You’re just as breathless and Four finds himself tucking away the way your voice sounds for a future experiment. But for now- “Much better.”

He kisses you again because he still can, and pulls back to reach over for some of the food he brought. He refuses for it to go to waste. “Here. Try this. It’s your favorite cake. Or at least an attempt at your favorite cake.”

Your breath catches and he hears your voice squeak, but doesn’t comment on it. “You mAde all of this?!”

“Of course.” Four sends you his most charming smile, handing you the plate of cake anyway. “I gave it my best shot but don’t be afraid to tell me if you hate it.”

“...Link, I don’t think I can eat all of this.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do this again.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu four

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 9/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: reconciliation isn’t as easy as it seems

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

1 WEEK LATER

When Paige woke up, her first thought was Azzi. Not about the fight, or the fact that they haven’t spoken to each other since.

Instead, the first image that popped into her mind was when they’d first touched intimately, when their dynamic had become for themselves instead of for the public. Paige had been complaining about something stupid, rambling on and on, missing how Azzi was fondly looking at her. She’d flopped down on the couch in exasperation, aiming for her head to hit the pillow next to Azzi’s leg, but had ended up falling on her lap. Paige had laughed and gotten up to move, but Azzi had stopped her, had gently held her chin in her hand. They’d looked at each other, and Azzi had gently, hesitantly, snaked her hand in Paige’s hair, lightly running her fingers through her soft strands. They stared wordlessly at each other, Azzi’s eyes holding a silent question of Is this okay? In response, Paige had nestled her chin into Azzi’s shirt and her eyes had fluttered close. And that was Paige and Azzi started to feel like Paige and Azzi.

Paige relived the memory in her head, and she swore that she could almost feel the sensation of Azzi’s soothing touch grazing her hair. But when she opened her eyes, Azzi wasn’t there, and her heart broke into a million pieces yet again.

Paige didn’t know why she’d let her hopes up. Despite having told Azzi herself not to bother coming to her surgery, some small part of her had hoped and prayed that Azzi had actually loved her, loved her enough to disregard her words and come running as soon as Paige woke up. That she’d be here, with a bouquet of silly little flowers with her silly little stuffed animals, begging for forgiveness and asking Paige to be her girlfriend, for real this time.

But she wasn’t, and Paige bitterly thought about how ironic it was that she’d just gotten surgery but still felt so broken.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Seemingly out of nowhere, a very excited KK came sprinting in through the door.

Paige pressed her hand to her head. “What? What are you doing here?”

“To visit you, duh,” KK beamed.

“You do know I just woke up?”

“And we just got here! Perfect timing. The rest of the team is on their way, but I got way too excited so I ran up the stairs.” Paige took a hard look at KK, just now observing how hard the girl was panting and the light sheen of sweat gleaming on her skin. Despite the ache in her heart, she couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet KK was.

“You didn’t have to run all the way here,” Paige sat up, pulling the younger girl in for a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, if you couldn’t already tell.”

The rest of the girls came filing in, all holding get well cards and bright pink balloons. Paige looked among the faces, trying not to make it obvious that she was searching for a specific one, but the disappointment from not seeing the one person she wanted most must’ve shown clear on her face, because Nika nudged her and said, “Relax, lover girl. She said she’s running a bit late, but she’s coming.”

At that, Paige’s heart rate increased by ten fold. Her mind raced - what would Azzi say? What would she say? There was no way the other girls wouldn’t be able to pick up on the tension between them. But before she could figure something out, Azzi came walking in the door, chatting and laughing with Geno.

“Paige!” Geno walked over to her, thumping her on the shoulder. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“It’s alright. I just woke up, so I’m still feeling the painkillers,” Paige responded. She was looking at Geno, but every cell in her body buzzed as she felt Azzi’s eyes burning into the side of her face.

“Hey, P, we heard the hospital gowns are kinda uncomfy, so we brought you a change of clothes.” Aaliyah raised up a duffel bag.

Paige sent them an appreciative smile. Her gown had been getting kind of itchy. “You guys are two sweet. Can one of you come help me change?” She said without thinking, starting to get off the bed. When the room fell silent, her heart sunk when she looked up and saw everyone staring at Azzi. She kicked herself. Of course everyone would expect Azzi to help her; after all, they were technically still “dating.” She should’ve just waited to change until they’d all left.

Azzi, who’d been purposefully looking at everything and everyone except Paige, startled. “Oh yeah,” she muttered. She rushed over to Paige, grabbing her elbow.

Once inside the bathroom, the tension between them was palpable, pricking them like a knife. They stared at each other for a moment, before Paige gestured to the duffel bag. “I should probably…”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Azzi stammered, turning around to give Paige some privacy. She heard shuffling as Paige changed, until there was a pause.

“I need help with my pants.”

Azzi exhaled shakily. During her past few weeks of visiting Paige almost every day they’d made out and cuddled, but they’d never gone further. She’d imagined seeing Paige naked before, and something in her throbbed at the idea, but this was not the way she wanted it to happen. Sitting in a stark hospital bathroom that smelled like bleach, with Paige staring daggers into her.

She turned around, and the blonde was sitting on the chair, in a sports bra and in her underwear. Seriously? She couldn’t have put on a shirt? Azzi thought. But when Paige leaned forward and her abs flexed, she realized she didn’t mind that much after all.

Azzi bent down, grabbing the sweatpants and slowly sliding them over Paige’s feet, up her calves. She tried to ignore how good Paige looked, sitting there, her legs all long and tan and slightly spread apart. Azzi made sure to be extra gentle around the bandaged part of Paige’s left knee. But when her hand brushed Paige’s thigh, momentarily feeling the smooth muscle, the blonde let out a little breath, and Azzi looked up. Paige’s eyes were hooded, and her tongue slowly ran over her bottom lip. Azzi flushed.

“Up.” Paige lifted herself at Azzi’s command, and the younger girl brought the sweatpants up over Paige’s hips. She immediately went to tie the drawstrings, despite knowing that Paige’s hands worked perfectly fine.

“Paige.” The blonde stiffened at hearing her name come out of Azzi’s mouth, but Azzi continued working on the drawstrings without looking up.

“Can we talk?”

“Our whole team is outside, waiting for us. I don’t think now’s a good time,” Paige replied bluntly, but her tone implied that there would never be a good time.

“Last week, you misunderstood me-”

“Azzi.” Paige’s voice was sharp, and she inwardly winced at how harsh she sounded. “I said I don’t wanna talk about it.” She pushed Azzi’s hands away from her pants and undid the knot the younger girl had just tied. “It’s too tight.”

Azzi’s hands retreated to her side. She bit her lip. “I know you’re hurting, but-,”

“I just got out of my ACL surgery and you won’t stop fucking nagging me,” Paige sniped. “Besides, you don’t have to come here and pretend like you care about me.” She looked away. “I know Geno made all of you come.”

“I’m not pretending.” Paige could almost cry at how soft Azzi’s voice came out. “I do care about you.”

Paige tried to move past Azzi to the door, but Azzi shifted. The blonde huffed, anger clawing at her throat. “Please just move, Fudd.”

“No.” Azzi crossed her arms. “You wanna hear the truth, Paige?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’re trapping me in here, so I don’t really have a choice.”

Ignoring her comment, Azzi forged on. “It’s so unfair for you to say that I don’t care about you. I took your stupid grocery lists and went to Target almost every goddamn day just so I could come by your apartment and see you again. I made you cookies and hot chocolate on days you were struggling especially hard. I took notes on my phone during practice so I could give you as detailed updates about the team as possible, because I knew you felt left out and that was the closest thing that you would get to feeling normal again. I did all of that for you, and you have the audacity to assume that this was all for show?” With every word she’d said, Azzi had stepped closer to Paige, until their chests touched and they’d stood, eye to eye, snarls on both of their faces.

“You said you were straight.” Paige jabbed a finger in her chest. “You. Said. You. Were. Straight.” Azzi finally took a hesitant step back, but Paige followed. “Do you know how confusing it is for me for you to say we’re fake dating, and for you to say you’re straight, but for you to come in my apartment every day and kiss me until my head spun?”

“You’re acting like you didn’t kiss me back. You’re acting like you didn’t kiss me first half the time!” Azzi accused.

“That doesn’t fucking matter!” Paige whisper yelled, hoping the team wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation from outside. The pain inside her head was piercing now, and she felt like her skull was splitting. “Are you straight or are you not? Because right now it feels like you’re leading me on, and you coming in here and telling me that you care about me isn’t helping me try and get my hopes down.”

Azzi’s arms fell to her side in defeat. “I don’t know, Paige. It’s as confusing for me as it is for you. I’ve been trying to figure myself out lately, but it’s not as easy as you’re making it sound like.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay, so you’re fighting with me to try and make me see that you care about me. But you don’t even know if you actually like me?”

“No!” Azzi stuttered, trying to find the right words to say. “I do like being around you, Paige. You’re funny and you’re sweet and even though I try not to, I think about you all the time. But you have to understand that my whole life I’ve thought I’ve been into men, and suddenly you come along. We weren’t even supposed to actually start liking each other, for god’s sake. We were supposed to stay enemies.”

But Paige was too hurt. All she could understand was that Azzi couldn’t say that she wanted her in the same way she wanted Azzi, and if her heart ached before, it was shattered now. “I’m not your play toy for figuring out your sexuality,” she said, her voice broken. “I don’t get it. It’s simple. You want to actually date me, or you don’t. Why can’t you just listen to what your feelings are telling you?”

“I’m not like you, Paige.” Azzi’s eyes flared, fire burning in her pupils. “I can’t just disregard everything else and focus on my emotions. I’m logical. I’m a thinker.”

“Okay, wow.” Paige’s eyes flashed with hurt. “So now I’m emotional and immature.”

Azzi closed her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“You know what?” Paige quickly wiped her eyes, praying that they would stay dry. “I think we were better off before. When we never agreed to this stupid thing.”

“Paige, what are you saying?” Azzi’s bottom lip trembled, and it took everything in Paige not to take back everything she said and just reach over and hold her.

“Once Leo’s assignment is done, it’s over. And in the meantime, everything we do is only in public. So you won’t be needing my keys any more.” Every word Paige said hurtled through her mind, piercing her chest and violently digging into her heart, calling her a traitor, because god, she didn’t mean any of it. It felt like a hazy blur, Azzi reaching into her pocket and dropping a single key into Paige’s open palm. Paige wrapped her fingers around the cold metal, wishing things wouldn’t have to be so complicated. That Azzi could just see what they had and give all of herself to Paige like Paige was willing to do for Azzi.

Paige stuffed the key into her pocket and sidestepped Azzi. In her eagerness to leave the increasingly claustrophobic bathroom, she stumbled, forgetting that she couldn’t put weight on her left leg. Azzi reached for her but Paige recoiled. “I don’t need your help,” she snapped. “Not now, not ever.”

The injured look in Azzi’s eyes after would haunt her dreams for weeks.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconnwbb #wbb #wcbb #enemies to lovers #angst

[calaisreno]

Save John Watson

1098 words / Prompt: Chaos

“Go to Hell, Sherlock.” 

The DVD shuts off. He remains fixed, staring at the screen. 

Miss me? He’d thought it had to do with Moriarty. Definitely an attention-getter. He’d needed a diversion. But this…

Mrs Hudson sighs. “Sherlock…”

Her voice startles him, reminds him where he is and that she’s been watching too.

“What are you thinking, dear?”

“Hm?” He looks up at her, standing above him, arms crossed, a frown on her face.

“I’m thinking… how to save John.” 

How to go to Hell…

She takes John’s chair, opposite him. He remembers putting it away, then bringing it back. He never can make up his mind about John. What to do about John getting married, what to do about his own vow, now that he’s failed to protect Mary. 

You promised. You made a vow.

He never could make up his mind about Mary, either, even before he knew what she was. He’d chosen a dramatic way to let John see for himself, hear her confess what she’d done, and then hoped he was right. John was stubborn, but eventually yielded. But then she died, the thing he hadn’t foreseen. 

Days have already been wasted, trying to solve this. Even in death, she presents him with puzzles.

But what she means here is obvious. John is the person they love most. Both of them understand that it’s not in John’s character to allow himself to be saved. He will stubbornly go to hell, insisting that he’s fine. Sherlock must get there first.

Once, Sherlock saved him. He got in a cab with a murderer—and John came to life, followed the cab, and saved Sherlock. The cane was forgotten and never reappeared. 

There’s no murderous cabbie this time, no Moriarty threatening to burn his heart out. But there are other ways to go to hell. 

Another sigh, a hard look in his direction. “Sherlock, I know you think I’m just a dotty old woman, but I need to say this: going to hell is not good advice. I have no doubt that she loved John, in her own way, and considered you a friend, but she is wrong.”

“In what way?”

“You and John— well, you’re both lovely people— but you have a terribly dysfunctional relationship. Coming from me, a person who’s had her share of relationship disasters, this may not sound like good advice, but who better to recognise a disaster in the making? Mary thinks that if you get yourself in trouble again, lose your mind, risk your life, John will rescue you. That’s his role in your relationship, to save you. Yours is to be brilliant and to need saving from your recklessness. But it’s not healthy. What Mary said is wrong, Sherlock.”

“But she knows John.”

She shakes her head. “Mary was one of those people who needed things to be chaotic. How else would she have become what she was? Assassins aren’t exactly homebodies, you know. She wouldn’t have lasted as a stay-at-home mum. Chaos was her first love, and she married John because he loves danger. And because of you.”

“Me?”

“Because she saw the potential of being a chaos agent between you two, disrupting the partnership you’ve always had. Look what she did to the two of you! Making you both jealous, putting herself between the two of you all the time. Shooting you, then getting John to forgive her because of the baby. And here she is, reaching her hand up from the grave to stir that pot again. She couldn’t help herself. You two have done nothing but abuse one another since you returned.”

“I’ve never hit John. And at the restaurant, he did hit me, but he had reason to be angry. I don’t blame him for his reaction.”

“I’m talking about emotional abuse. Bruises and cuts heal, but when you let people think you’re dead for two years, that’s abuse as well. Yes, Sherlock, it is. When you make him believe things about himself, that he’s not good enough, not loved— that’s abuse that doesn’t easily heal.”

“You think I gaslighted John?”

“It doesn’t matter that your intent was to keep him safe. She encouraged it, always teasing him about you, making herself out to be the smart one. He believes you didn’t trust him, that he wasn’t good enough. He believes you don’t love him.”

“He doesn’t—”

“Yes, he does. It’s as plain as day.”

“I killed his wife.”

She huffs, crosses her arms. “You did not shoot her. It was her choice.”

“No, but I goaded Vivian Norwood into shooting me, and Mary took that bullet.”

“And why do you suppose she did that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it constantly, and it doesn’t make sense. John loved her—”

“John loves you. She was no idiot, and she knew whose death would destroy him. Remember, she knew him when you were dead and understood what it would do to him if you took that bullet. She put herself in its path out of love for him. And he’s angry, of course. He’s lost his wife, and has a daughter to raise alone. But he loves you, and his anger is really guilt: when he saw you alive, and his wife dying, he felt relieved that it wasn’t you. That made him feel guilty.”

Sherlock is shaking his head. “Mrs Hudson, I know you’ve always seen us together romantically, but John isn’t gay. He—”

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter,” she replies, leaning forward. “We love who we love, and he loves you. Now, I’m not saying you meant to harm each other. Things have been out of kilter, and neither of you has dealt with it. He’s angry, and your feelings are hurt. Making it worse it not the answer. The only way to escape this is to step out of it.”

Sherlock stands and walks to the window. He stares into the street for a long time, thinking. 

They were broken when they met. He’d been out of rehab for a few months, and was trying to learn sobriety. A junkie is always a junkie, and substituting cases for cocaine was healthier, but not a cure. Every day, he’d struggled to distract himself, and felt himself weakening. The case of the pink lady was an excellent distraction, but John— 

He’d seen it that day in the path lab. A man with a cane for a psychosomatic limp. A doctor whose heart was still on the battlefield. 

He turns to her. “What should I do?”

--

Another chapter of "Things Somebody Should Have Said in Canon." Sherlock's question will be answered (eventually) in another story.

@keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @raina-at @friday411

#mayprompts2024 #chaos

[gothcsz]

Dusk | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become a park ranger at a national park in California after breaking up with your ex. You meet Joel Miller, the chief ranger there, and find yourself absolutely smitten over him.

Tags: smut, attempted assault (not by joel), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), no use of Y/N, reader is a professor, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i wrote this during a long car ride in my notes app so i’m NAWT liable for any mistakes xoxo this is also my first attempt at writing joel so i hope i did our man justice 😋

You’ve always been an outdoorsy person. Girl scout as a child, camp counselor in your teens, camp manager in your twenties— and not to mention the plenty of solo camping trips you’ve taken and the amount of hikes you’ve trekked.

Then there’s your full time job as wildlife biology professor in New York.

Being out in nature is the only time you ever feel true, serene peace. Who would have thought? It keeps you healthy and entertained. Most of the hobbies you indulge in and skills you have revolve around being outdoors.

Becoming a park ranger had never been part of your plans, per se, but after a really messy engagement that ended with the wedding being postponed indefinitely and then being overwhelmed by your friends and family afterwards; you needed an out.

The offer to become a ranger at a national park in California came at the perfect time. You didn’t hesitate to sign on to the job, especially since it was being offered to you by a long-time close friend you had met online through a Hiking Tips & More! Facebook group.

So you packed as much as you needed and booked your flight from upstate New York to California.

You’d be stationed there for the summer and the pay was decent. Whatever, you weren’t too hung up on that detail since you are financially stable enough to take the pay cut for the next few months.

After going through the motions of getting registered and settling in at the local lodge themed motel, you use an afternoon to just take everything in. You’ve never had the pleasure to visit any of the parks on the west coast so this experience is extra exciting for you.

You’re already prepared yourself to do some birdwatching and to brush up on your botany knowledge.

Before you are assigned a location and station, it’s required for you to attend an orientation of sorts for the new cohort of rangers working for the summer.

The intent is to go over routines and day-to-day tasks. Most of the job you already know from when you got your certification before going to graduate school. You thought you would have the time to become a ranger then, but life had humbled you quickly so the certification was never put to use.

Until now.

It’s around 7 in the morning when you arrive to the meeting room at the national park. Others linger around but you make a beeline towards the coffee machine; absolutely needing your caffeine fix for the morning.

Definitely don’t forget to bring that with you. You went quite feral without caffeine— god forbid any man, or bear, come across you before you’ve had your cup of coffee.

You fix the drink as you always take it, realizing you’ve just emptied what was left in the glass container.

Not wanting to be the asshole that left everyone else with no coffee, you rummage through the cupboards until you find the container with the grounds and you brew more, doing your good deed for the day.

Blowing against the mug before bringing it up to your lips, you savor the taste and let out a content hum.

“Was that the last of it?”

Your attention immediately flits up at the sound of the deep, southern drawl that’s like honey to your ears.

Before you stands a unit of a man: tall, broad— rugged. He’s obviously older, the salt and pepper colors of his hair and beard complimenting both smile lines and frown wrinkles on his face.

Oh, he’s handsome as hell.

“U-Uh no— yes… Well I just put more in. Should be ready soon.” You flash him a small smile, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering like a fool. Suddenly, you’re aware of how unflattering the park ranger uniform looks on you.

He can’t say the same, clearly, since the collared shirt hugs him snugly across his triceps and shoulders, stretching across the broadness of his chest. There’s a few pins attached to his front, and that’s when you catch the golden glint of his metallic name tag.

J. Miller

He just nods in response, his gaze fixated on you, “I recognize most people here.… but not you. This your first rodeo as a ranger?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, “Yes, but not my first rodeo in the field. I got my certification a few years back but never got the chance to use it.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the smell of the fresh brewing coffee hitting your senses. “Ah— I see. Figured you were new. I woulda definitely remembered a pretty face like yours.”

This has you blushing, hard, and biting down softly on your bottom lip. You can’t remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with you like this.

Your asshole of an ex-fiance quit complimenting you shortly after getting engaged. Come to think of it, most of the problems and red flags started happening after you got the ring on your finger.

Ugh, focus! You scold yourself. You have an attractive, out of your league man flirting with you and you’re here thinking of your shitty ex.

“Thank you. I think I would have remembered a face like mine, too.” You’ve never been good at receiving compliments, so you do what you do best and use humor to navigate the conversation.

He chuckles and immediately you’re wanting to hear more of that sound. It’s deep yet comforting and now you’re wondering if you’re being a weirdo for being attracted to a man’s laugh (amongst other things) like this.

You make small talk standing by the coffee machine as more people begin to trickle in. He tells you his name is Joel and that he’s been a park ranger for twenty years and a chief ranger for ten. He has a daughter named Sarah who’s in college further down in the state and you can tell just how much he cares about her by the way he dotes on her.

No mention of a wife or girlfriend, though. You don’t see a band on his finger… there’s no way this man is just walking around single like this.

In return, you tell him your name and some of your background (sans the trainwreck engagement) and he’s fascinated by the fact that you’re a professor.

His interest in you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach and it doesn’t help that he’s got the sexiest little Texan accent you’ve ever heard. Each word sending you deeper and deeper into this crush that has blossomed seemingly out of nowhere for a man you’ve just met.

Amidst the conversation that flows naturally between the two of you, there’s an aura of flirtation and attraction that the both of you seem to be reciprocating. Or at least you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this wrong.

Please don’t let me be reading this wrong.

It’s not until you both have finished your coffee that everyone arrives and he has to excuse himself.

Apparently he’s leading the orientation.

The entire time he’s giving his presentations and demonstrating safety procedures, you can’t help but ogle him.

He fits this career so well with how carries himself. Confident, steadfast, knowledgeable, fucking sexy. You just want to run your fingers through his curly, thick hair and tug on it while you ride the daylights out of him.

This sudden intrusive thought has you clenching your thighs together and that’s enough to get your focus back on the meeting and not how you want him to demolish you.

His forearm flexes, the veins protruding, as he demonstrates how to tie a tight and secure knot; his fingers moving dexterously against the rope.

Damn your dry spell and this attractive ass man.

The orientation concludes with everyone getting their assigned areas and tasks. Your folder is labeled 125.

“We’re on a two week on two week off schedule. You’ll spend two weeks manning your station before there’s a shift change. Daily tasks will be given during mornin’ check-ins along with any other pivotal information. Each camp has a binder with any additional information you will need alongside a long list of phone numbers and radio codes in case somethin’ goes awry. First shift report back here at 6 sharp tomorrow mornin’. Any further questions can be directed towards me or my partner Tommy.”

“Brother,” Tommy, who has been leaning against the wall this entire time, interjects with a playful grin and this has your brows quirking in both amusement and intrigue. He works with his younger brother. How cute.

“Yeah, yeah. That too.” Though it’s gruff, you can clearly pick up the lighthearted tone in Joel’s reply.

You want to stick around and talk with him some more, but you don’t want to come off as annoying so the second you’re all dismissed— you’re the first to be out of the room.

It’s not till you’re further down the hall that you hear your name being called out and turn to see Joel lightly jogging to catch up.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” You ask teasingly and you catch the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Not at all. Just wanted to make sure you were okay with your assignment.” You hadn’t even looked at the folder that he had passed to you during the meeting. It had all the information about your post.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You open the file and see a small map with your area circled in red sharpie. You see the surnames of all the other park rangers littered about on the page; and then you see Miller written by the fire lookout closest to yours.

“I gave you a smaller area since it’s your first time out here and all,” He scratches at his jaw, as if he’s almost nervous to be telling you this, “Once you get the hang of it, which ‘m sure will be in no time, I’ll put ya somewhere more… challengin’.”

It’s sweet, this gesture of his. Easing you into the job. If it had been anyone else, you would have defended your skillset and wit and demanded to be put somewhere ‘challenging’, but since it’s Joel you don’t think twice about it.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for this.” You smile up at him as you close the folder and he matches the expression, making him look boyish as his sweet brown eyes catch yours.

“No problem, darlin’. See you tomorrow mornin’?”

Or we can go back to my motel room, get to know each other a little bit better?

“See you tomorrow morning.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

You finish packing the rest of your things before heading out for your first shift on the job.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straighten out your uniform and fix your neatly braided hair before exiting the stuffy motel room.

You wouldn’t be so hung up on your appearance had it not been for the attractive DILF that’s suddenly overtaken every inch of your mind.

You haven’t stopped thinking about him since meeting him yesterday. He seems so sweet and kind; but also with a ruggedness that makes you wonder what kind of lover he is.

Is he a giver or does he only focus on getting himself off? Does he bite and leave marks? Does he prefer his women being bent over or on top of him?

Yeah, you definitely need to go outside and touch some grass.

This entire experience feels like a new beginning, a chance to reinvent yourself before flying back home and starting the new semester.

Your cab takes longer than expected to arrive at the motel, which in turn makes you late to showing up at the meeting spot.

When you burst through the doors, breathing heavily, your heart sinks at the sight of an empty room and you berate yourself for not allotting extra time for mishaps.

“Thought you got cold feet.”

You jump in your spot and whip around to face the handsome jump scare.

Joel is leaning against the counter on the back wall, arms crossed over his chest making the fabric of his button up shirt stretch obscenely over his toned upper body.

“Can’t be too jumpy out in the woods, darlin’. ‘S how you get got.”

“Fuck— sorry. My cab ran late, which isn’t an excuse for my tardiness but—”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and that has the rest of your words hitching in your throat.

“Relax, s’okay. All is right. Everyone else is already situated out there. Figured I’d hang back in case you showed. Didn’t really think you’d bail. Don’t seem like the type.”

You’re relieved, to say the least, that he’s taking mercy on you despite not liking the fact that he has to.

You’re a professional, running late is out of character for you. Even if it was due to a circumstance you couldn’t control.

You let your shoulders drop, pairing the action with a soft sigh. “Thank you. It won’t happen again. I’m more than ready to start the day.”

He studies you for a brief moment with an unreadable expression and it makes you self conscious. Is there something on my face? Is my hair sticking out somewhere?

“Okay. C’mon, let me drive you to your station.” He pushes himself off the counter and you follow him out of the cabin-styled building and to his ranger truck that has the park’s name printed on it in bold letters.

“Nice ride.” You say as you slide into the cab of the truck, setting your large backpack in the back seat.

He mutters out a brief thanks before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the rocky terrain of the park.

You can’t help the look of awe on your face as you stick your head out of the rolled down window to take in the view.

The picturesque peak of the mountain ranges surrounded by lush greenery is breathtaking and it only makes you more excited to have some alone time in the midst of it all.

What you don’t see, though, is the way Joel keeps stealing glances at you. He thinks you’re so beautiful, especially with how entranced you are by the natural setting.

You finally make it to the small area of your camp and he helps you settle in to the small structure that’ll be your home for the next two weeks.

It consists of a twin bed, bedside table, a small desk with your equipment on it and a lamp.

Very home-y. You really only got the place for the view.

“Thanks for the ride… and for waiting for me back there.” You tell him, adjusting the backpack strap against your shoulder.

“S’not a problem at all. I’m posted up a few miles north so that makes us neighbors.”

“Well, if I need some sugar or something— I’ll make sure to stop by.” You tease and this gets a chuckle out of him which has your heart soaring.

“Alright, sugar, you radio me or anyone else if you need anythin’’.”

“I will.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

The first week goes by like a breeze. You spend most of your days hiking around your assigned area to make sure everything is as normal as it can be out here.

You tend to your daily tasks, listening along to your audiobooks. Taking in the scenery. You even find the time to explore some of the various native flowers and plants that bloom here.

It’s peaceful and exactly what you needed.

You come to discover that while you were already attracted to the sound of Joel’s deep, honeyed southern voice; you were even more attracted to it over the distortion of the radio.

Every morning you’re greeted by it during task assignments and when he gives the weather forecast for the day.

Every afternoon you hear it when he checks-in through the walkie talkie.

Every night you hear it when he does roll call to make sure everyone is alright and present.

Those are the only times you’re able to really communicate with him. You’re both so busy dealing with the job during the day then bone tired by night to really make anything out of the attraction that lingers.

And boy does it linger. You’ve never been this worked up over a man… like ever. Even with your ex the infatuation had never been this intense.

The sex with him was fine. Normal. Vanilla. The lovers you had before him were all a variation of the same thing.

So the bar was in hell— literally. That’s probably why you’re so obsessed with wanting Joel Miller to fucking destroy you.

You’re on the way back to your camp for the day when you come across a clearing, four men camping out of various tents.

“Park ranger here. Just making my rounds. Are you guys well?”

You smile politely at them, watching as they eye you up and down then suddenly— you’re feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

“Better now. You out here all alone, sweetheart?”

You clock the pervy tone in his voice immediately, clenching your jaw but trying to keep an aura of professionalism.

You’re required to carry a gun and a taser, for obvious reasons, but not once did you ever think you would actually have to use it.

Yet with the way these men are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat— you’re really resisting the urge to let your hand hover over the weapon.

“Heading back to my partner now. You guys have a good night.” You lie with a forced smile that pains your lips as you turn from them, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as you can.

No way are you revealing that you are, in fact, alone with the nearest help being miles away.

“Oh c’mon, baby, stay a while.” A different man calls out and you can hear them following after you.

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of them actually following you all the way back to your camp. Your location is marked on most of the maps that are posted around the area, in case of emergencies, but now you’re hyperaware that they could just go look for it and find you in no time.

Swallowing thickly, you trek forward and continue to ignore their catcalls until suddenly one of them has got a tight hold on your forearm and yanks you back against his chest.

You let out a squeal of surprise mixed with fear. Your only saving grace right now is your giant backpack since it keeps you from being flush against him.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggle against his iron grip, trying to use your free hand to reach for your weapon but he twists the arm he does have in his hold, and it renders you immobile.

You wince at the pain, adrenaline coursing through you as you hear his three other friends join and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what demise you’re about to meet.

You’re so fucking afraid so you channel that fear to kickstart your flight or fight— choosing both as you lift your foot then slam it down harshly against your captors foot.

Thank god for these heavy ass hiking boots.

The hit does enough to loosen his grip on you just enough for you to shimmy out; using the fleeting seconds you have to knee him in the balls before you take off running.

You hear them screaming profanities at you, calling you a “cunt” “bitch” “whore” amongst many other things. They’re relentless as you hear twigs snapping and leaves crushing beneath their running footsteps.

Your backpack is hindering you at this point so you unbuckle the straps that run across your chest and discard of it quickly, changing course to try and throw them off your trail.

You don’t know how long you run or where you run to, now completely lost as the last hint of sunlight disappears behind the mountains.

You don’t hear anyone chasing after you anymore but you’re not stupid enough to stop and check, so you do the next best thing which is to change your route again before finding solace behind a Giant sequoia tree.

Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you slowly peek around the hefty trunk to see if they were still chasing after you.

They’re not.

Allowing yourself to feel relief, you lean back against the tree and close your eyes to keep the tears away.

Don’t cry— not now. You’re not completely out of the woods yet… ha!

You shake your head at your conscience, hands shaking as they reach for your walkie talkie to seek the help of the only man you want around you right now.

“Call to 121 from 125. Over.”

“121 to 125 on frequency 9. Over.”

You switch frequencies and immediately break procedure once you know it’s just you and Joel on the call.

“J-Joel? Do you copy? Over.”

Immediately he responds, worry evident in his voice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Over.”

You take a second to calm down so you can concisely explain your situation.

“I was chased through the forest by a group of campers. I got disoriented, lost my bag, and now I-I’m lost and it’s so dark out. I need you to come find me. Or lead me to you… Over.”

“What do you see around you? Any distinctive characteristics? A trail? Over.”

He’s on high alert, getting methodical and procedural to suppress the rage he feels as your voice garbles through his walkie talkie.

You look around in desperation, flashlight in hand as you try to find anything that’ll pinpoint your location.

Nothing.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you weigh your options. You can walk around until you find something useful or stay put and wait who knows how long for Joel or those band of heathens to get to you.

He urgently calls your name through the walkie talkie when you don’t respond in a timely manner and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.

“N-No. Nothing. I’m going to keep walking until I find something. Over.”

“No. You have to stay put. ‘S dangerous out here at night. I’ll come to you. Over.”

“It’s dangerous during the day, too. I’m going. I’ll reach out to you when I find something… over and out.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you turn your walkie off, the batteries were already running low earlier in the day so you have to limit your use on it before you’re left stranded and walkie talkie-less.

There were extra batteries in your backpack… fuck men and their ability to ruin everything.

You walk through the pitch black forest with your chin held high, faking bravery to avoid succumbing to the fear that’s rattling in your bones.

The mosquitos bite at you, insects chirping about, and in the distance you can hear a coyote howl.

If you don’t survive tonight because of men then you won’t survive because of mother nature.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, your exhaustion slowly catching up to you.

However, your ears perk at a low rumbling noise and your flashlight snaps in the direction in which you think you hear it coming from, your feet carrying you towards the source.

You damn near burst out in tears of joy once you see the large and beautiful waterfall that flows into the river below.

You radio Joel again, skipping the pleasantries and telling him your location.

You plop down on a bench that’s on the trail, overlooking the astounding scenery and finally you let out a sigh of actual relief. What a way to end your first official week as a park ranger.

About twenty minutes later you see his large silhouette booking it towards you, taking in your disheveled appearance once he’s close enough.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sugar, what the hell happened to you?”

He envelops you in his arms and you finally allow yourself to let a few tears seep out of your eyes and they land on the fabric of his shirt.

His smell, his touch are comforting as all hell and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

You feel safe. Protected.

“Just assholes being assholes. I ditched them, though. Barely. I should’ve been smarter and ran—“

He shushes you as you begin to victim blame yourself, pulling you from his chest so he can get a better look at your figure, trying to see if you were physically hurt.

Thank god you weren’t.

“All that matters now s’that you’re safe and with me, alright? ‘M west of here. ‘Bout a twenty minute hike. Can you make it?”

You can’t help but snort, blushing as his concerned expression flashes with frustration.

You’ve hiked through the Appalachian mountains— you can definitely do a mere twenty minutes. But you understand that he’s just trying to gauge how shaken up you are and is genuinely concerned about you.

“Yeah, I can make it.”

He pulls you into his chest once more and you inhale deeply, taking in his natural musk and how deliciously it pairs with the faintness of his cologne.

“Alright— let’s go.”

His chest rumbles as he speaks and you don’t want to leave the confines of his strong hold but you must. You’re ready to get this day over with.

You spill the details of your hectic predicament on the hike back to the fire tower he is stationed at. You can feel the energy radiating from his broad figure, his anger palpable as you describe the four men who had ganged up on you.

His strong jaw clenches, fists balling at his sides but he remains silent until you’ve finished.

You can only imagine what’s going on through his head… you can’t help but find his irritation alluring.

“If I had to ballpark it, I’d say they were roughly ten minutes north from my station. I know exactly where that clearing is.”

“You’ll stay with me tonight ‘n tomorrow after mornin’ announcements we’ll get back to your neck of the woods ‘n I’ll deal with those assholes myself.”

Your teeth sink in to your lower lip, his statement holding so much conviction that it makes your clit throb.

Then it sinks in: you’re staying the night with him… and you’re all sweaty and gross from the long fucking day you’ve had.

This would have been a much more enticing, ripe, and overall erotic scenario had today’s event not transpired.

“Not trying to sound pampered or anything but do you mind if I shower?”

“How on earth does that make you pampered? ‘S a shower, darlin’, and after the day you had today you need one.”

“You saying that I stink?”

“If the shoe fits…”

You elbow him softly as you both chuckle, not even realizing that you’ve gravitated closer towards one another.

Unlike your station, the fire lookout tower is much bigger and it sits higher up on the mountain. Large windows run all around the structure giving whoever’s inside a full 360° view of this side of the forest.

It’s absolutely stunning. You can only imagine how it looks during the day.

You look out from your spot on the wraparound porch as he unlocks the door then beckons you inside.

Yeah, this place is much nicer than yours. Probably because fire lookout shifts are usually more long term than normal park ranger ones.

There’s a small bathroom— with a shower—- in the far corner, along with a bed and some other miscellaneous furnishings.

Maybe you can sell your old place and move up here. The view is much nicer, anyways.

You laugh to yourself, lost in your own inner monologue and Joel looks at you funny.

“You good?”

Embarrassed slightly, you just nod. “Yeah, just a long day.”

His warm eyes convey the message ‘I understand’ and you instinctively smile.

“Sooo about that shower…”

“Uh, yeah, help yourself. Everythin’ you need should be in there. We get hot water up here so that shouldn’t be an issue. Holler if you need anythin’. Imma try ‘n find you somethin’ to wear.”

You thank him softly, trying not to look too desperate for a hot shower as you cross the room and close the bathroom door behind you.

Letting the shower run, you begin to strip from your clothes, cringing at how grossly and sticky you feel from sweating your ass off all day.

You feel all the tension leaving your body as you step beneath the shower head and the hot droplets of water hit your skin.

You swear this is the best shower you’ve ever taken. Why? Because you peeped Joel’s toiletries in there and decided to use his body wash and shampoo so now you smell like him.

There’s three rhythmic knocks at the door followed by his deep voice.

“Found some clothes. Can I come in ‘n put ‘em by the sink?”

You swallow thickly. Despite there being a shower curtain separating the two of you, you feel nervous about him coming in while you’re naked.

Not because of him but because of you. He’s got you all riled up without even knowing it.

“Or I can leave ‘em out here?”

“It’s fine, Joel, you can come in.”

There’s a hesitant pause before you hear the door opening, then his large shadow passing through and setting the small pile of clothes by the sink.

His eyes fall to the floor where you’ve left your heap of dirty clothes, seeing the feminine printing of your pink underwear peeking from below the khaki material of the shorts you’d been wearing. The matching bra not too far away.

He’s fucked— unbelievably fucked.

Joel hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you first met. Your smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before, your eyes a shade that makes him want to get lost in them forever, your voice a tune he wants stuck in his head all the time.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that’s quite the statement considering he’s surrounded by breathtaking sights all the time.

He’s crushing hard despite only barely knowing you for a week.

Then there’s that underlying, primal tension that simmers when you get too close. So it doesn’t help that’s he’s getting an eyeful of your discarded garments then is aware that you’re fully naked, smelling like him, on the other side of the shower curtain.

He stands in front of the shower, half tempted to just yank back the material and join you, fully clothed, just to fuck you against the wall.

No, he can’t think like this. Especially after the day you’ve had.

So he pushes those salacious thoughts away before leaving without saying a word.

You held your breath during the entirety of that silent and brief moment there.

You could feel his hesitation, really, and mentally yelled at him to give in to the temptation and have his way with you right here in the shower.

But he doesn’t hear you, obviously, and you begrudgingly finish your shower after he leaves.

You re-enter the main room dressed in an oversized national park tee and a pair of his boxers.

His cock stirs at the sight of you in his clothes and the smell of him on your skin. He has to look away before you catch him staring and label him as a creep.

“S’not much but I made you somethin’ to eat.” He’s at the kitchenette, all the fixings to make a grilled cheese strewn about the tiny area as he holds up a paper plate with your dinner on it.

Your stomach grumbles on cue, as if remembering that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

And just like that shower— the grilled cheese is the best grilled cheese you’ve ever eaten. Not because you were starving; but because Joel had made it for you out of the kindness of his heart.

Your standards are way too low if you think a man making you a grilled cheese sandwich is the most thoughtful thing in the world.

You two finish up quickly and begin getting situated for bed.

He’s being a gentlemen by giving up his bed to you while he takes refuge in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room.

You tried to fight him on it (to no avail) and now you’re both wide awake, laying in silence as the night passes by.

You toss and turn on the small bed, all of the sudden not exhausted like you had been on the walk up here. You can hear Joel shuffling around too and you let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice cuts through the darkness and you shake your head before remembering he can’t see you.

“No. I guess I’m still on go mode after everything.”

“Need anythin’ to help you sleep?”

Yeah, you. Just come over here and fuck me one good time—- I’ll sleep like a fucking rock.

You let out a small whine at the fantasy, your brain pulling cruel tricks on you as images of him tying the rope into a knot flash through your mind… they’re suddenly distorted and now he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost with the same adroitness from before.

“Y’okay sugar?”

Too lost in your wet daydream, you hadn’t realized your prolonged silence. Your thighs rub together, your slickness smearing over your folds.

“Just fine.”

Another pregnant pause before you hear him shuffling then his heavy footsteps nearing the bed.

You sit up straight once he’s near, the moonlight pouring in from the large windows cascading over half of his face and he’s got this look in his eyes that make you want to pounce on him.

“Y’sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to make you feel better?”

His words drip with sensuality, a double entendre that knocks down the last wall of your self control.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

He stands tall over you, your eyes darkened with lust as you look up at him through your lashes.

It’s a ravishing sight, his fingers come down to brush some of your damp hair from your face and his thumb strokes affectionally against your cheek.

“Like what, baby?”

Oh, where do you start? A kiss, right? But you’re eye level with his hardening bulge and taking him down your throat has wetness pooling at your core.

But you really want to kiss him.

“Kiss me, Joel.”

And he does, bending himself over to hungrily smash his lips against yours.

You don’t hold back the whine at the feeling, your lips moving against each others in pure desperation as your tongue swirls around his before licking into his mouth.

You don’t know where this newfound confidence is coming from but you don’t do anything to deter from it.

You continue to make out, hot and heavy, as he crawls into the too small bed with you, pinning your body beneath his as he holds himself up with his strong forearms on either side of you.

Your hands eagerly run all over where you can reach. Squeezing his triceps, tracing down to his chest then digging your nails into his shoulders.

Joel grunts against your lips, breaking away so the two of you can catch your breath. His forehead falls against yours and you smile up at him.

“What you all smiley for?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re something worth smiling over.”

He chases after your lips again and you’re back to making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Your fingers run along his warm skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling how chiseled yet soft he is. You feel some of his chest hair and then you get curious so your hand falls lower until it’s at the band of his sleeping pants.

The hair there is coarser and you salivate at the thought of nuzzling your nose against the patch as you take him fully into your mouth.

Eager to feel his skin pressed up against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling back to discard of it quickly.

You inhale sharply at the sight of his bare torso, much more attractive than the mental image you’d been painting since you met.

“You are so hot.”

He exhales through his nose in a silent laugh before he descend on you again, except this time he doesn’t reconnect your lips.

His hands softly caress your body through his clothes, cupping your breasts and kneading them. This has you canting your head back and arching into his touch, moaning sweetly at how good it feels

“S’all you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

This has you moaning louder as his fingers pinch your pebbles nipples and you begin rocking your hips against nothing just to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up against your core.

“Joel, please…” You whimper out, wanting him to rip these clothes off you and devour you entirely.

He knows what you want and what kind of man would he be to deny such a pretty little thing of feeling good?

He quickly undresses you and you’re so lost in the moment that you aren’t even plagued with self consciousness.

Every touch, every stroke and caress has you feeling flawless as he begins to kiss at your neck, his pouty lips sucking a small mark beneath your jaw and you hiss his name out of excitement.

His lips continue their assault against your neck before trailing down to your chest and between your breasts.

His large, calloused hand runs up and down your sides before he hooks his fingers under the band of his boxers that you’re currently still in, slowly pulling the fabric down.

“Ya sure about this? We can stop if you want to.”

“If you stop right now I might just kill you.”

He smirks against your chest, letting his curved nose run along the swell of your breast before his tongue darts out to kitten lick at your sensitive nipple.

You shudder and then he’s taking the nub into his mouth, sucking on it before letting his tongue flicker over it repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

With your lower half now fully exposed, he massages your thighs and you spread them wider to allow him to rest against you comfortably.

He continues to give your tits attention but now he’s paired it with the sensation of him running his thumb against your obscenely wet slit.

Your hips buck up involuntarily at his touch and he pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

“Be patient, sugar, I promise imma make you feel good.” He husks out, just as turned on as you are, as he turns his head towards your other breast to begin lavishing it in the same attention he’d just given its twin.

His thumb dips between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal before he’s swirling it around your needy clit.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering close as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure of this foreplay. You’ve never been with a man who was this attuned to your body; touching you in all the right places and having you make sounds you’ve never made before.

Your nipple falls from his mouth with a soft and wet pop as his lips trail down your abdomen, kissing the smooth skin along the way.

He reaches your mound, those chocolate brown eyes of his staring up at you as his hands find purchase on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider for him so his broad frame can fit in between them.

“You’re s’wet, darlin’. Bet you taste fuckin’ sweet too.

Your fingers reach down to run through his hair, lust blooming in your stare.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He groans, lowering his head until you can feel his warm breath against your throbbing cunt. With your fingers still intertwined in his hair, you tug him closer to you— dying to feel his touch where you need him most.

Usually, Joel would drag this out more. Tease you until you’re a puddled mess and begging for him to take you however he pleased.

But he’s drunk on you. His mind clouded with nothing but the vision of your naked body sprawled before him and your sheer eagerness to use him to get off.

It’s hot and exhilarating— which is why he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your pussy, groaning as your arousal floods his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arches off the bed, grip on his curls tight as he begins to eat you out like a starved and barbaric man.

His tongue flicks across your clit one, two times before exploring the rest of your cunt. The wet noises coming from his ministrations echo through the room and they only spur you further into your orgasm.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. I could die a happy man right in between these beautiful legs.”

Joel kisses and nips at your inner thighs before diving back in. His tongue flattens against your cunt as he takes long, broad swipes before his lips wrap around your sensitive nub and he sucks on it. Harshly.

A scream of pleasure rips from your throat at the action, hips moving against his face as his nose bumps against your clit when his tongue moves down to plunge into your tight hole.

He licks the inside of you, allowing you to rock your hips as your stomach tightens with your climax not too far away.

Sensing this, Joel brings two of his thick fingers up to your core, lubing them up with your wetness before he slides them in. The slight burn from the stretch is enough to have you seeing fucking stars.

“Just like that Joel please don’t stop.”

You don’t care if you sound needy or desperate— the whole reason you’re here in California is to experience something new and to forget about how shitty your romantic life has been in the past.

Joel’s doing an amazing job making you forget, his rough fingers pumping in and out of you as his mouth kisses your pussy.

“C’mon baby. I can feel how fuckin’ close ya are, sugar. Let go.”

His fingers curl inside you, brushing up against that spot that has you cursing out a litany of expletives as you clench around him tightly and cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, grounding you as your orgasm quite literally has your soul leaving your body.

Your release coats his digits, mouth, and jaw as he eats you out through it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, twitching at the oversensitivity between your thighs.

“Did so good, baby. Look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone like that.” He mutters against your ear, once again hovering over you before your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and it’s enough to spark another flame of arousal in your lower belly. Your legs wrap around his waist as his painfully hard erection presses up against your freshly fucked cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel, please.” Your nose brushes up against his, giving him your best fuck me eyes in which he has no choice but to comply.

He shimmies out of his sweat pants, his swollen cock bouncing slightly as it’s exposed and your eyes widen as you look down to see just how fucking big he is.

Oh fuck, is it even going to fit?

“You okay, babygirl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Better than okay. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

Your hand comes down to stroke him a few times, loving the way he groans out your name before swatting your hand away.

“Fuck— wait. I don’t have a condom.” He mutters and you quickly pull him down to you before he shifts away from between your legs.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in months.”

You have no problem with him going in raw, you actually prefer it since you want to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you.

However; if he’s been giving it out to the masses then maybe you should reconsider letting him fuck you… but he doesn’t seem like the type to whore out like that and you pray that’s the case.

“Me either. ‘M clean ‘n I don’t get much action out here.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughs, actually laughs in your face and you can’t help but find this moment endearing.

“M’gonna have to instill some patience into ya, sweetheart. You’re a needy little thing.”

There’s a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as he sinks into you, the bulbous head of his cock stretching you out deliciously as your fleshy walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” You both groan out in unison, relishing in how good it feels to be lost in each other like this.

He hasn’t bottomed out yet and you already feel so full.

“So big, Joel.” You purr out, feeling him twitch inside of you at the praise.

He rocks his hips into yours, finally burying himself fully inside of your cunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He stills, letting you adjust to his ginormous fucking cock, whispering sweet words into your ear as he peppers soft kisses against your neck and shoulder.

“You can move now. Please.” You roll your hips, crying out like a pornstar when the head just barely brushes against your cervix.

“Oh sugar you’re gonna have to keep those noises to yourself if you want to enjoy this for longer than two strokes.”

It makes you giddy knowing you have such an effect on him.

“Can’t help but express how good it feels.”

His hips cant back, cock sliding through your wet walls as he begins to thrust back into you. His movements start slow and patient, but once there’s enough of yours wetness coating the both of you; he readjusts you on the small bed and begins to set a ruthless pace.

“Yesyesyes, oh my god just like that.”

He sits back on his haunches, meaty hands gripping onto your hips for dear life as he fucks you harshly, the rusted springs of the bed crying out at the harsh movements.

“Play with your tits, baby, show me how much you like bein’ fucked like this.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands come down to do as instructed; twisting and pulling at your nipples which heightens your arousal even more.

They bounce against your hold as he screws you with all the passion in the world. You’re hoping his rough touch against your hips leaves bruises. It’d be a lovely memory of this moment and how it’s not just a dream you’re having.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with your respective sighs and moans of pleasure swirl around in the air, both of your bodies glistening with sweat from your coital activities.

He looks so sexy over you like this, the curls at the base of his neck sticking to his skin with sweat, eyes focused on your folds as your pussy stretches each time he fucks into you, tongue just barely peeking out between his lips in concentration.

You want to feel his lips on you as you cum for the second time tonight, so you reach for him and whine out his name and he happily complies, leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues intertwine and you nibble on his lower lip as his hands move your legs to rest over his shoulders.

The change of angle is enough to topple you over the edge, and you cum with an aggressive shout of his name followed by your nails raking down the taut skin of his back.

His thrusts don’t relent as he continues to fuck you, and you’re too disoriented and caught up in pure bliss to do anything about it.

“Mmm baby cum inside me. I want you to fill me up and paint my walls with your cum, Joel, pretty please.”

You use that tone again, the porny one that had him almost coming prematurely. You pair it with a tight squeeze of your walls and that does it.

His thrusts stutter and he grunts huskily against your neck as he fills you up with his spend. You play with his hair as he comes down from his own climax, placing kisses against the crown of his head.

You both lay in a comfortable silence, him still buried inside of you while he holds himself up on his forearms.

“That was amazing.” You’re the first one to breach the quiet, “But I’m gonna need you to let my legs down. I don’t want to cramp folded up like a lawn chair like this.”

He chuckles against your sweaty skin, placing a kiss to your jaw before he pulls back and tentatively moves your legs off of his broad shoulders.

Joel pulls his cock out of you and you shudder at the loss, feeling his cum slowly dripping out and down your slit.

“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbles, bringing his fingers down to collect some of your mixed release before pumping it back inside of you.

You whine in protest, “Joel she’s sensitive. She just took one hell of a pounding.”

Though you clench around his fingers, your body contradicts your words.

“S’okay, sugar, I’ll take good care of her.”

And he does, god does he take good care of her and you for the remainder of the night.

#joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #the last of us fic #joel miller #tlou fic

[snixkers]

Crushed Walnuts

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader

Angst

For: Anonymous Request

Content Warnings: Character death, gunshot wound, loss of blood, grief, funeral, NO HAPPY ENDING

Summary: You fade in and out while Spencer tries to keep you alive.

Author's Note: Tissues at the ready. I'm experimenting with writing style and trying to improve how I write grief so enjoy!!!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You rolled onto your side, vaguely aware of your team's muffled yells around you. The shot rang in your ears, rattling around your brain and causing your vision to wobble.

As you started to regain consciousness, you saw Spencer crouch down beside you, pressing on your chest.

Spencer.

Your breath hitched when you saw him. He was always so nice to you, telling you random things he’d learned and filling up your coffee for you.

(He did that for everyone because that’s the kind of person he was, but you liked to imagine that he took as much pleasure in your morning routine as you did.)

The best part of work was walking into the bullpen and seeing his smile.

Where was his smile?

He was panicked now, and his hands were shaking as he pressed on the red-hot spot.

“Hey, stay with…”

★★★★★

“...me personally, I think Gattaca is one of the most accurate sci-fi movies.”

You tilted your head, giving up on your paperwork to listen to his voice.

“I’ve never seen it. I’m not much of a sci-fi person.”

His smile widened, and he quickly leaned forward.

“Oh, you’re missing out! Sci-fi is one of the most interesting genres of film and literature there is. Some advancements in technology were directly influenced by fiction.”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, I’m more of a rom-com person.”

He took a sip of his vile coffee.

“Did you know the first romantic comedy was released in 1924?”

You shook your head again. He always knew things you never even considered.

“I prefer to watch things that have been released within the past few decades.”

He sighed again, wiping a smudge of coffee ground off the bottom of his mug.

“You’re missing…”

★★★★☆

“...out. They’re going in and out!”

You blinked again, groaning at the pinching pain in your ribs. You could see the panic in his eyes, tears forming as he called for backup. You went to sit up, but he pushed you back down.

“Stay where you are. You’re losing a lot of blood.”

His voice cracked slightly at the end, something that usually happened when he was happy. But there was no joy in his expression as you both stared down at the bloody wound in your chest.

“When did I get hit?”

He frowned, elevating your head to keep you conscious.

“A few minutes ago. Don’t worry, an ambulance is on the…”

★★★☆☆

“...way back in 10,000 BC, the first ancestors of the modern walnut started growing.”

You paused, your hand halfway to your mouth.

“That long?”

He nodded, eager to share his never-ending flow of information.

“Mhm. They were brought over by Chinese merchants.”

You popped a few in your mouth, chewing slowly.

“Well, they’re really good. I could eat them for hours and never get…"

★★☆☆☆

“...tired.”

You heard your voice from far away, watching the panic in his eyes increase.

“No, I need you to stay awake. Don’t die on me, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”

His voice grew fainter, and you could hear your thready heartbeat in your ears.

“Stay with me. Do you…”

★☆☆☆☆

“...understand Korean? There's a film festival in town this weekend.”

You smiled gratefully, watching him stumble over his words.

“I wouldn’t get any of it.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t need to. I can translate everything for you in real-time.”

You blushed at the thought of him whispering in your ear, hoping he didn’t notice anything.

“Yeah, sure.”

The nerves quickly left his body and he sighed in relief.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

Realizing his words, he quickly headed toward the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. You hesitated before stepping after him.

“When you said date, you meant as friends, right?”

He turned around, flashing you a more subdued smile.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know why I said that. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm...”

☆☆☆☆☆

“...thinking of you all the time. And I miss the way that you listened, and how you used to make me feel. And every time I do a crossword, I look for things you like. Liked. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over you. Um, that’s all.”

He stepped down from the podium, making his way back to his seat in the front row. The shadows under his eyes were darker than usual, his hair was greasy and unwashed, and he hadn't eaten in days.

He knew if you saw him, you’d worry and tell him to take care of himself. But sitting in front of your fresh grave as another team member came to say some more remarks, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reqs open #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #character death