#just. wow. really hit it out of the park with this one

[trophyposting]

saw a post on tiktok saying trophy has """pretty privilege""" and then they went on to say that people treat trophy and nickel differently just because trophy is hot,,., which is so???!? like how do you even come up with this?,??@

#SO many things about this #the implication that trophy is objectively hot (he is) #the implication that people ONLY like trophy because he's hot and not the other way around #the implication that NICKEL IS UGLY??! #just. wow. really hit it out of the park with this one #sorry for talking about the clock app i just thought this was annoying and stupid enough to be funny #k talks

[astonmartinii]

peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩

view all comments

user1: excuse me 😀

user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related

alexalbon: erm what is is ?

yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy

alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass

yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital

alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨

yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY

oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really

yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges

georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.

user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?

yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?

oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no

yourusername: ugh boring

user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman

oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines

yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?

georgerussell63: more like e l james

yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK

yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x

user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup

view all comments

user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE

yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”

oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing

yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP

oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did

yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists

oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not

yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(

georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for

yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨

georgerussell63: well yes but needs must

oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong

landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs

georgerussell63: okay i get it damn

yourusername: SMASH

alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?

yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too

alexalbon: excuse me?

yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl

lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳

alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life

user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos

georgerussell63: do not encourage her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.

view all comments

user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands

user9: she did NAWT hold back omg

oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour

yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone

oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me

user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?

yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.

georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.

yourusername: thank you georgie

oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here

yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸

alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN

user11: alex spill how brutal was it?

alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing

yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement

alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports

yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist

georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(

user12: why are we celebrating violence?

user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL

oscarpiastri

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.

view all comments

user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES

georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you

yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him

georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY

oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george

georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done

oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law

yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE

georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.

user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes

landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?

yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy

danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy

yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel

oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass

yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch

yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go

danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute

logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard

oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two

yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭

landonorris: WHAT ????

oscarpiastri: no comment

logansargeant: no comment

yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍

landonorris: no comment

alexalbon

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe

alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten

view all comments

user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship

yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING

alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated

yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily

alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph

oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n

alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house

yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK

alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you

yourusername: bare minimum

user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????

landonorris: lando norris erasure

charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure

oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town

landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(

yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud

landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63

georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago

yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay

oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real

user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf

yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really

oscarpiastri: and you love it

note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

[simpjaes]

FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 

៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::​​​

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 

You shrug. 

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys. 

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.” 

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 

Offense taken. 

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hallmark christmas movies #hallmark #christmas #joel miller christmas

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #tw: guns #tw: death

[asapeveryday]

Fuck The Freshmen: Say My Name (2/2)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Media girl!reader

Warnings: car sex. Hello.

Read: Part 1: Fuck the freshman BEFORE this!

A/n: yayayaya part 2! This is final btw not tryna make another series so fast. I added another title because the main one only really applies to the first part, not this one. Ok enjoy!

Paige practically scurries out of the change room and takes your hand, leading you out of the gym in a hurry. She looks great in her practice clothes, but when she’s wearing her signature Uconn tracksuit she’s basically the Paige of your dreams. You hate it.

Clambering into the passenger seat of her car, you turn to look at her but she’s already leaning into you. Her kisses are hungry, starved even. Like she’s been meaning for this to happen. Her hands are placed firmly on your hips, yours are caressing her face. You barely breathe and it’s intoxicating, the fact that you’re willing to choke for her lips is almost your worst nightmare.

“Hey.” You manage to utter between kisses. “Buckers, stop. Someone might see.”

Paige pulls away from you and gazes out the window into the gym parking lot. “Practice isn’t over for another 15 minutes.” She shrugs.

“You’re only planning on having me for 15 minutes?” You raise your eyebrow. “Disappointing.”

“Fuck you.” She scoffs, turning on her car and speedily driving out just a little farther, to where the parking lot is deserted.

“Wow, couldn’t even take me somewhere else?” You complain. You don’t really mind, but you’re used to giving Paige a hard time.

Paige’s eyes are glaring at you, burning make-believe holes through your own. “Get in the back.”

Much to your own dismay, you listen to her and she joins you closely, immediately pushing you to lay down on the backseats.

Your mind can barely register that Paige Bueckers, the girl who would ignore you during freshman+sophomore year and make snide comments during junior+senior year, is on top of you.

Her knee in between your legs, pushing up into your heat just right. Her tongue darting out between her lips as she eyes you, then that same tongue entering your mouth as she kisses you. Her chain dangling, hitting your chest as her head moves with yours.

She’s so fine it’s infuriating. You’ve never made out with someone so good in your life.

You hurriedly take off your ‘uconn media’ crewneck, leaving you just in your bra and pants. Paige just stares for a moment, hands ghosting the straps of your bra. You realize she’s waiting for your permission.

“Use your words, Bueckers.” You say, relishing the fact that despite her being on top of you, you could still try to have the upper hand.

“Lemme see you.”

You stare at her.

“..please.” Paige grumbles out

You slightly arch your back so she can reach to undo your bra. She tosses it to the ground and lets out a whistle at the sight of you, topless and hair askew on the leather seats of her car.

“Fuck.” She says, immediately going back in to kiss you, her hands busy groping your tits. Her lips start to trail from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck, pausing there and sucking perfectly into the sensitive skin.

From your neck she trails down to your collarbone, then just over your breasts and finally she attaches her mouth to your nipple, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.

Her mouth is all over your chest, and when you look down you’re surprised to see hickeys all over you. Paige is marking you up.

As she focuses on your tits, her hands find their way to the waistband of your pants, abruptly pulling them down and revealing how wet you are through your underwear.

Paige audibly chuckles and you wish you could hit her.

She places soft kitten kisses from your chest trailing to just above your underwear line, before licking a neat stripe to your folds through your panties.

The barrier between her tongue and your pussy is overstimulating. She’s soaking you more by wetting your underwear with her saliva, your legs try to close on her but she holds them open.

“Cmon..” you moan out. “Stop teasing me Bueckers.”

Paige looks up at you, eyes electrifying yours. “Wanna use your words?”

“Please. Please eat me out.” You whine, not caring about superiority anymore.

“Say my name.”

“What?”

She looks at you darkly. “Say my fucking name. My first name. Stop calling me Bueckers. I wanna hear you call out for me.”

Before you can respond she pulls your panties to the side and attaches her mouth to your folds. Immediately you’re thrusted into pure ecstasy. Her tongue laps at your entrance and circles at your clit with pure force and aggression. Your legs start to twitch and she feverishly holds them down and devotes herself to you.

“Shit.” You groan. “Oh shit, Paige..” you finally utter, your hand reaching out for her and grabbing her ponytail. Tender headed as ever, she lets out a noise against you and you can feel her bite her lip against your skin. There’s no way. You think to yourself. Paige likes having her hair pulled.

She continues to make a mess of you, and you relish at her little noises when you tug at her hair, or use it to push her further towards you.

“Look at you, fucking up my car seats.” She murmurs against your legs.

“Oh.” You moan out. “I know you’ve fuckin’ dreamt of this. Teasing me all the time, trying to make my job harder for me. You just, ah, wanted my attention.” You manage to grumble.

When she sucks on your clit you swear you can see stars, back arching and hands gripping her head.

“Should’ve seen your face when I’d talk to them freshman.” She scoffs in response. “Looked pretty bothered to me. I just wanted to see how much you could take.”

“P..” you whimper.

“You think I never noticed how you couldn’t hold eye contact with me? How you’d watch me on the court? Fuck, even though you acted tough, most of your pictures were of me.”

She’s gripping your legs so tight. Her hands are slender, nails short. Her arms are covered by her tracksuit, but you’ve seen how veiny they are firsthand. You’ve thought of it all too often.

“Don’t get quiet now, baby.” She says with another swift lick to your pussy. “Did you ever look at those pictures? All alone in your room, wishing I was there to give you what you can’t get on your own, hm?”

You’re trying to suppress your whines, hating how she’s getting the best of you. It’s becoming too much, you can feel a knot forming in your stomach with every word that vibrates against you.

“Do you know how many times I wanted to take you, right then and there? Every dinner, every practice. Every time I could see you focusing so hard on getting the perfect shot. God, I just wanted to see how your face would change if I touched you like this. I wanted to see how much I could distract you.”

“Fuuuck, Paige. Paigey, please.”

At the mention of her name, it seems a switch flicks in her brain. She’s engulfing herself in you, the noises are embarrassing yet hot. Your thighs are wet with slick and her saliva.

“Tell me what you want, mama. I’ll do it for you.” She whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

“Paige, P-uhm..” You struggle to get the words out, the knot in your stomach is only tightening. “Make me cum. Please, Paige. Lemme cum for you.” You manage to utter.

You feel yourself almost burst, and as you cum she takes it all in her mouth without hesitation. It’s disgusting, but it’s a scene that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Finally she brings herself back to your face, kissing you smoothly. Her tongue dancing with yours, letting you taste yourself on her.

“Paige.” You croak out.

“I know baby. God, I love how you say my name.”

You look into her eyes, unsure what to do or feel. She looks right back at you, her hand brushing hair out of your face. When she wipes a tear from your cheek she snickers “Head game so good I had you crying? Damn.”

“I’ll get you back, bitch.” You grumble, eyes pulling away from hers. You feel your face get hot with embarrassment.

She grabs your face and forces you to look at her once more. Her eyes aren’t playful anymore, they’re firm.

“You better.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #smut #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #wlw smut

[dark-fics-4-you]

hi queen 🤍 the way i squealed when i saw ur post PLS

ok but umm what if your tire went flat at night and dark!rafe happens to be driving by, kinda crossed after leaving a party super late but he stops and helps you…. but plans to make you pay him back one way or another right there on the side of the road even tho you thought it was just a nice stranger doing a favor…..aldfjidoendkd

dw im seeking out help rn.

it’s okay i need to seek out help for writing this the way i did. This fic alone is putting feminism back 50 years okay sorryyyyy enjoy

Equal Exchange

Warnings: noncon, smut, reader gets assaulted by a stranger, degradation, rough sex, implied drug use, misogyny, slut shaming

“Fuck!” You hissed, slapping your steering wheel in frustration before flicking your hazard lights on.

Of all the times and places for a tire to pop, of course 1AM on a back road was just your luck.

You opened your door, examining your parking job before checking out your tires. Sure enough, the right hand rear tire had a gash in it, and was now considerably less full than the others.

With a groan, you retreated to your trunk, opening it and locating your spare. However, only then did you remember lending your jack and wrench to a friend and you cursed angrily.

How could you change the tire now?

As if on cue, the back of your car lit up as another car approached. You spun around, only to be momentarily blinded by the truck’s headlights, but you could hear the large vehicle slowing to a stop.

You nervously shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you watched the door of the truck open and a tall, blond man exited and walked closer to you.

“Engine trouble?” He calmly asked, blue eyes looking down at you kindly. The scent of weed hit your nose, and although you silently judged the guy for driving while high, you weren’t one to turn down help when it found you.

“No, my tire popped. I have a spare, but I don’t have the tools to fix it,” you sheepishly explained, crossing your arms around your chest when the cool wind made you shiver.

“Lucky I was in the area then.” He said with a friendly grin. “I’ve got a jack and a whole tool kit in my truck. I’m Rafe, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Thank you so much for the help Rafe, I really appreciate it!”

You watched as the blond got his kit and jack out, and then observed as he masterfully changed your tire. You didn’t miss the way he glanced over the stickers you had on the window there, a couple band ones and then a few feminist stickers that he stared at for just a little bit longer than you were comfortable with.

However, he was helping you out, and by the time your spare tire was on, you had almost forgotten about the way he looked at your stickers.

“Wow, I can’t thank you enough Rafe, you really saved my skin. I’m glad you were driving around here tonight when you were,” you politely smiled up at him, genuinely grateful for him coming to your aid.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His eyes lingered on yours but he made no movements to go back to his truck, instead taking a step towards you.

You backed up nervously, why was he coming closer to you rather than going back to his car? It was well past midnight and maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you, but you suddenly really wanted to leave.

“Well, it’s late so I better get home,” you started to turn away from him, but his hand flew out and clamped down on your wrist.

You whipped around to face him, crying out and wincing at the painful way his fingers were digging into your skin.

“What are you-?”

“You just said I saved your skin, didn’t you?” There was an icy edge in his voice, and Rafe pulled you closer to him, chin ticking as he looked down at you in disapproval. “I mean, if it weren’t for me you’d be stranded all alone out here for god knows how long.”

“I-I know, I said thank you, Rafe, now please just let me go!”

“What if I didn’t want to, hm? Are you going to make me?” He chuckled when your face dropped, enjoying watching the severity of the situation he had placed you in dawn on you.

“I mean, don’t you think you could repay me for sticking my neck out for a dumb bitch like you?” He held you in place with one hand, allowing the other to snake around your throat.

Your eyes widened and you thrashed against him when he clamped down around the tender skin, choking you hard.

With all of your power, you aimed your knee in between his legs, missing his crotch, but still catching him off guard enough to get him to release you.

You screamed as you pulled away from him, hoping that someone else might hear you and come to your rescue.

Stretching your fingers out to reach for the handle of the door, you had almost grabbed it when Rafe’s large arms encircled your waist, tearing you away from the door.

You were no match against his strength and he easily pushed you back before getting behind you and shoving you as he bent you over the hood of your car.

You yelped when your hips painfully dug into the metal in a way you were sure would leave bruises.

His large hands pawed at your clothes, and you hopelessly struggled in his arms. When he ripped your shorts and panties down in one movement, dread gripped your heart. You felt dizzy with fear.

Before you could even register the chill of the night air, Rafe roughly slammed your head against the hood of your car, holding it there and chuckling at your terror before hissing into your ear as he undid his shorts with one hand, “I’ve never understood girls like you. I mean, you have those dumbass girl power stickers all over your car but you can’t even change a tire by yourself. And I bet you learned that little move after mommy signed you up for a self defense course, huh? You can take all the classes in the world, but you never really stood a chance against me, sweetheart. I mean, you are so fucking stupid it’s actually adorable.”

His cruel words brought a burning pink tinge of shame to your cheeks, tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

When you felt the tip of his cock brush against your slit, you tried to move again to get away, but you were pinned down by his rough hold on your skull.

“Uh uh, Y/N,” your name sounded all wrong on his tongue, and the smug overfamiliarity from this stranger who was now assaulting you made your stomach turn in disgust. You froze when he pressed the head against your slit again, this time you were slick enough for him to slowly press the tip past your lips and into your warm cunt.

“You’re gonna stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” his sick laugh barely reached your ears, as your focus was locked on the building pressure between your legs as Rafe pushed himself into you, painfully stretching you out inch by inch.

You whimpered as he sheathed himself inside you, trembling with adrenaline and fear underneath him. He was big, too big, and you clenched around him when he tilted his hips back before snapping them against your ass.

“Fuck, Y/N, I thought I wasn’t gonna get any tonight after that party turned out to be so lame but shit-” he groaned before slowly starting to push his cock in and out of your heat.

“I guess I got lucky after all,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and your tears only made you feel worse. Each stroke of his length was agonizing.

You could barely adjust to the feel of his thick cock dragging along your walls, it felt like he was going to split you open. The pressure between your legs had you gasping and crying out in a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure.

“God you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he groaned. “I knew you’d be worth stopping for.”

Rafe was rutting into you faster now, enjoying the way you fearfully looked up at him through teary eyes as he took advantage of you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this, Y/N.” His taunting voice was punctuated by his sharp thrusts, each one rocking your body. “Why else would you be moaning like such a fucking slut?”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron smut #equal exchange #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader

[geekforhorror]

giving ani road head 🏃🏼‍♀️

sweet like candy

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), switch!anakin, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, orgasm, slight cum play (?), bossy anakin, fluff at end.

Never in a million years would you have thought you would be in this situation. In a speeder giving Anakin a blowjob. Sure, you guys had done plenty of other stuff together, but not this. This was completely new territory for you. The night had started off with the two of you going to a gala, but over time, you guys had gotten bored and… desperate. The invite was a nice gesture of the Order, but both of you couldn’t really care when all you guys could think about was feeling the warmth of each others body. And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

Anakin had parked his speeder in a rather secluded area, which had come in handy for this very moment. Here you were, sucking away at his cock for the past few minutes, both of you reduced to a sweaty mess.

“Fuck angel, just like that…” he pants as you hollow your cheeks around the base of his cock that was already coated with precum. You continue what you do best, but this time, you swirl your skilled tongue on his aching tip, which only provides a stronger sensation for him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says while looking down at your fucked out state. You looked angelic in this moment. Your pupils were currently blown out in a sense that they had a doe look to them and your chin was covered in drool and his precum. You’ve never looked better to him. Anakin can’t help but wonder what you would look like while your hair was being tugged that way your mouth could sink lower onto his dick. Only one way to find out.

Anakin finally grabs a fistful of your hair before shoving your head lower, now taking all of him. Your gag reflex kicks in and he notices your throat threatening to choke on his fat cock.

“Come on baby, I know you can take more. Be a good girl and give me what I want,” he orders. You nod your head at his demand and behave. Your mouth is now the fullest it’s ever been and you fucking love it. You purse your lips around him before placing your hands on knees for support while sucking away at him.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos.

Fuck. That voice of his is going to be the death of you.

You take that as an opportunity to show him just how much of a good girl you can be for him. You hastily start to bob your head back and forth while he’s still in the back of your uvula. This makes Anakin hit his head on the plush leather of his seat, now moaning louder than ever. You made him lose his self control and you took pride in it. Both of you know someone could walk by any instant, but that’s what provided the thrill.

Anakin starts to feel the hot coil form in his abdomen and he knew what was about to happen. And so did you when you felt him twitch in your sore mouth. All you wanted was to make him feel good.

“Kriff…I’m going to cum…” he trails off. You finally suction him even rougher with all your might and before either of you know it, he comes undone in your trained mouth, shooting hot ropes of his salty seed down your throat. You graciously swallow all of it without being asked, which stings for him since he was still so sensitive. With your hand, you wipe off the excess fluids that were plastered on the crevices of your lips and chin.

“That was fucking…wow…” he says while pulling his boxers and pants up.

“I could say the same,” you say before kissing him passionately straight on the lips. His lips are molded to yours in an instant and it’s the best feeling in the world. After a few seconds, he brings his fingers to your chin before pulling your face away.

“Missed a spot… tastes so sweet,” he says, before wiping away the drop of cum you had missed.

“I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight--raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin imagine #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Dedicated To New Lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~5.5k

TW: Murder, Angst, Character Death, guns, violence, blood, swearing, depression, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of insomnia, self-deprecating thoughts, loneliness, heartbreak, Mentions of Emily's death, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure

A/N: This is based on s8 ep12, Zugzwang. It deviates slightly but still makes Spencer sob so it could basically be canon. Obviously, or maybe not to some people, this fic is based off of Night Shift by Lucy Dacus. It's been my obsession for the past couple weeks and I simply just had to write something for it. Now my one issue is, besides me ignoring editing it, is that I hate when things don't end happily, but I'm breaking out of the mold of everything ending with a nice neat little bow, so please enjoy! (well as much as you can for such a depressing fic lmao).

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone ---We find it with another." ~Thomas Merton.

“Thank you for such a wonderful night.” You murmured, pulling away from the kiss, hands on their chest. “I really enjoyed it Spe—”, you coughed and blinked a couple of times, catching yourself. “Especially,” You clutched your chest, smiling up at them, “Sorry I don’t know where that just came from.” 

The lips you had just kissed had shifted into a concerned smile, but was none the wiser. 

“Especially dessert. I loved the pie place, you were so right! The apple was just perfectly seasoned, and the crust was still crumbly.” You leaned up and kissed their cheek again. 

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You whispered, before turning around and heading into your apartment building, not waiting for a response, smile falling the second you weren’t looking at them. You buzzed yourself in and quickly walked up the four flights of stairs towards your door.

You fucking hated pie. Well that wasn’t true, but you didn’t really want to spend your evening going and getting pie with someone you really weren’t that into. 

You couldn’t help but wonder why everything was wrong. They were kind, and sweet, and cared so much for you, but it just wasn’t the same. Your heart was just not in the place, and not a single butterfly fluttered around in your stomach, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you.

Well that was a lie too. You knew exactly what was wrong. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” You mumbled, getting your keys out and unlocking your front door, grabbing the mail off of the mat, and closing the door behind you. 

The boxes stacked precariously around your place just left you feeling more and more destitute on this island of loneliness. God you were so fucking dramatic. You dumped the roses they had given you, and your purse onto the kitchen counter, and went straight for the fridge, grabbing the bottle of Prosecco. The cork popped, and you took a swig straight from the bottle. 

Your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket, sighing and answering it. 

“Hey Em.” 

“Wow, was it that bad of a date?” Emily laughed a little. She had been concerned about you, the whole team had been concerned about you. Her death had hit you and Spencer the hardest. You had become fast friends with Emily, regardless of the fact that when she joined, you were the youngest, and newest on the team as well. The two of you had become fast friends, and even faster sisters. She was your everything. She was there for your father’s death, the start of your relationship with Spencer, the harder cases, the bitching, the girls nights, the everything. But you had run into the warehouse, and saw Derek cradling her hand, screaming for a medic, and you just lost it. Your brain went into overdrive, rendering you useless. When JJ walked into the waiting room and told all of you the news, you sat there, shocked. Spencer had tried to go see her, but you had just excused yourself and walked out to the parking lot. It was devastating. You were allowed back from leave a week later than everyone else because Hotch knew you needed more time. So when she walked back into the round room, alive and well, your barely pieced together mind completely shattered all over again. 

You watched for seven months as Spencer let you grieve alone while running off to JJ’s house for comfort. You had sat alone in your shared apartment becoming more and more of a shell of a person, not really eating, sleeping, or even drinking water; you were barely existing. Five years of a relationship washed away because that first night, instead of comforting each other, Spencer had abandoned you at the hospital, forgetting to even drive you home. Then, when his headaches got, he pulled even further away, only hearing snippets of how he was doing from those on the team who didn’t even live with him. 

The team could only watch as you slowly became a ghost of yourself, while Spencer couldn’t even give a shit to notice. 

The first time he mentioned Maeve to you, it was like a stake in your chest. You had caught him talking to her when you had come back early from the therapy Hotch had almost threatened you at gunpoint to go to. He quickly hung up the phone and mentioned that she was his doctor, helping him with his headaches. But you knew better. You had heard him laughing before you walked into the apartment. You hadn’t heard him laugh since before Emily had “died”. 

Then, one night, he told you it was over.  I don’t love you anymore. 

You just sat there, chest caving in on yourself. 

Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…

His words bounced around in your head before Emily said your name. “You disappeared on me.” 

“Shit-uh, shit. Sorry Em.” You shook your head, and pinched your brow. “They were really lovely Em, just the best. But I’m just not ready.” 

Emily sighed, “I know it’s only been four months but I’m proud of you, I really am. For even going out in the first place. Want me to come over, bring a new bottle of prosecco.” 

You laughed, but it had no substance. “How’d you know I was almost out of Prosecco.” 

Emily sighed. “I know you’re a grown woman who can handle living alone, but Sergio and I wouldn’t have minded if you stayed with us for a couple more weeks.”  

“And I know that, and I love you so much for it, but the only way I’m ever going to be able to…” the words got stuck in your throat. “I, um. I had to.” 

Emily sighed, but understood. “Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m a phone call away, or a block away, whichever is faster for you.” 

“Thanks Emily. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that you hung up the phone, not wanting to prolong the conversation any more than it had. 

“Fucking Maeve.” You grumbled to the living room before taking another swig from the bottle. You barely slept these days. Your date this past night? The first time you had eaten a full meal in over two weeks. Your skin was a little more gaunt, and the concealer you were using was working overtime to hide the bags under your eyes. You were once someone filled with so much joy, and so much love to give. Everyone knew you were a touchy person, always giving hugs, touching people’s arms, squeezing their hands; if someone tried to touch you now, your whole body would tense up, your stomach would flip. Eventually, after finishing off the bottle, you fell into a restless sleep on the couch of your apartment, since you didn’t want to sleep alone in your own mattress, dreaming about the fact that someone else was probably in the one you bought with Spencer all those years ago when he asked you to live with him.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The office went silent as you walked into work the next morning. You were always one to arrive early, make your coffee, visit Penelope in the Bat Cave, stop by Hotch and Rossi’s offices and wish them a good morning. But these days you walked through those glass doors exactly at 9 am, unless you were called in. 

It was masochistic to still work at the BAU, but it was one dream you weren’t going to let Spencer take away from you. But as you walked into the bullpen, and all heads turned towards you with such pitiful looks, you doubted whether you belonged here anymore. 

Before you could place your bag down, Aaron walked over to you and quietly asked if you would come into his office. You obliged, a sinking feeling in your gut, as you followed Hotch, while the eyes of everyone else followed you. 

As Hotch opened the door, you froze. Spencer was sitting on the couch, trying to wipe away the tears in his eyes. He clearly also hadn’t been sleeping, but you knew those tears weren’t for you. You stayed in the doorway until Hotch gestured to one of the chairs along the side of his office. You moved away from the door, but stayed standing, refusing to sit down. Hotch closed the door, trapping you in his office with someone you hadn’t spoken more than necessary to in over four months.

“Do you want to tell me why I'm here.” You asked calmly, trying to ignore the desperate man on the couch, who was just staring down at his feet. 

“I am going to ask you to sit out this case.” Hotch looked at you, not sitting down either, ready to calm down whatever fight you’re about to put up. 

Your eyes narrowed at your section chief and you scoffed. “You better have a seriously good explanation Hotch because as I’ve told you many times before, I’m doing fine. I don’t know what has been said, but I’m perfectly capable at—”

“I asked him if you could sit out.” Spencer’s voice was hoarse, but solid as he looked at you. 

You closed your eyes and flexed one of your hands, resisting the urge to punch him in the teeth.

“Since when do you know what’s best for me, Doctor Reid.” It took all of your control to stay civil and not curse him out in front of your boss. 

“That’s not it.” Spencer licked his lips but he quickly averted his gaze. “T-The case. It’s um. It’s about Maeve and I–” 

Your heart dropped. Bile started to rise in your throat. “oh.” You had never felt so small in your life. Tears were forming in your eyes. “I’ll be right…I—” 

You barely even finished the thought before you opened the door, and quickly walked out of Hotch’s office. No one even tried to pretend that they weren’t watching Hotch’s office. Emily and Derek shot up off of their desks and immediately went to follow you as you sped down the stairs and through the bullpen. Hotch just looked down at his feet while Reid just rubbed his hands over his eyes. 

You shoved through the doors, accidentally bumping into Penelope on the way out, causing her to drop the files and coffee mug in her hand. It shattered on the ground, but you couldn’t stop to apologize. You needed to be in the bathroom before you became the agent who threw up all over the halls because of some stupid broken heart. 

Emily had quickly helped Penelope pick things up, the two exchanging hushed whispers and looks. Derek had apologized to Penelope while he ran past, catching up to you with every stride. You shoved open the door to one of the woman’s rooms, Derek right behind you. 

Luckily for you, it was empty, so you could continue running to the biggest stall, before dropping to your knees and throwing up. It burned your throat and your eyes, stinging every inch of skin as it rose up your throat and into the toilet in front of you. 

Derek had pulled back your hair, and was now sitting down next to you as you dry heaved into the toilet. You only threw up actual substance one more time, but it was just that stupid fucking apple pie and the Prosecco from the night before. There was nothing else in your stomach to throw up, so your body settled for making you gag continuously. 

“Fuck.” You cried into the toilet, letting yourself fully devolve into the mess you were destined to become this morning. 

Derek just rubbed your back, “It’s okay pretty girl, let it all out.” 

“Derek Morgan I think I am the ugliest son of a bitch right now.” You mumbled, reaching up and flushing the contents down the drain, tears still racing down your face. “I can’t fucking—” You tried to breathe in but your body was shutting down. That’s all it seemed to do these days. It felt like the only way to protect yourself anymore. “He–”

“I know.” He whispered softly, offering you some toilet paper to let you wipe off your face, as you leaned back, away from the toilet. 

That’s when the first sob wracked your body. Maybe you weren’t meant to be on this team anymore. Spencer had been here longer. You were only an asset to the team because of your positive attitude which left your body the second Emily Prentiss was pronounced dead in that waiting room. You were the definition of useless. I mean, Derek and Emily were partners, Hotch and Rossi had everything down pat, and Spencer, even when you were dating, was truly partnered with JJ most of the time. You were the odd man out, and you were fucking useless. 

Derek had pulled you into his chest, hugging you as the sobs continued. His heart was breaking for you. No one on the team really knew what had happened that night, all they knew was that you didn’t come in one day, and then when you did the next, you looked like shit. All while Spencer seemed fine. Then, when your desk was moved to the opposite side of the bullpen, it confirmed any and all guesses the profilers had been making. You were never paired with him on cases anymore, and if you were, there was always a third person. You barely looked at one another. Spencer’s scarf had reappeared on his desk one morning, and suddenly you were no longer staying in the same hotel rooms. Derek just kissed your head as you let your body give up. 

He wasn’t stupid. Like everyone else, he had noticed the way you had been losing weight. He had noticed the amount of makeup you had started to wear. He even realized that he hadn’t seen you eat any meals with them in the past couple months while they were out on cases. But what he hadn’t fully realized was the fact that you were dead, inside and out. There was nothing left of you but the barely alive body he was holding. 

Spencer had really gotten a good look at you for the first time in a very long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve, and that you had broken up he had broken your heart. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore, he hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation was going to go any better than that.” 

Reid just nodded, and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him, as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” and with that, Hotch walked past Reid, and down the stairs, out towards where he had assumed you had run off too. 

Spencer just stood on the stairs, watching Hotch walk to you, wishing it could be him to hold you in his arms.

Hotch opened the door to the women’s bathroom, and saw Derek cradling you. As you heard the door open, your body had tensed up and all of your tears had stopped. Derek and Hotch shared a look before Hotch kneeled down. 

“Sorry Aaron.” You mumbled, trying to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. 

“Don't apologize. Take the next couple of days off. Penelope might call and ask you a question or two, if she manages to forgive you for breaking her third favorite coffee mug…” 

You laughed slightly at his joke, trying not to let it cause you to cry even more, wiping away more tears. 

“But I expect you don’t need me to tell you this is an order.” 

You nodded at Hotch while you stood up, Derek quickly following suit. “We’re meeting in ten.” He nodded at Derek, who took the hint. He squeezed your arm, and kissed your head, whispering to call him if you needed anything, before leaving just you and Hotch alone in the bathroom. He held up your purse and gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I am only a phone call away Y/n. If anything happens, I want to be the first to know.” He nodded at you, only for you to pull him into a hug. Hotch smiled slightly, because you hadn’t really hugged anyone for a while, so he quickly reciprocated before pulling away. “Hotch, can I ask you one more favor?” 

“Anything,” He said softly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once he had left, You grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and tried to wipe as much of the mascara track marks off. You eventually just wiped off your whole face of makeup. You stared at yourself, realizing just how fucked you were. Eventually, you had made your way out of the bathroom, and past the bullpen. Everyone was piling into the conference room, but Spencer had stopped to watch you enter the elevator, really looking at you. You made eye contact right as the doors started to close. Spencer’s gut twisted at the forlorn look on your face. But before he could do anything, the doors were closed, you were gone, and his name was called by Hotch. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

According to the updates from Emily and Derek, the case was not going well. You knew very little about it, and you wanted to keep it this way, but you knew this case wasn’t going to end well. You could just tell. 

You had been existing in your own apartment, making frequent trips to Emily’s to keep your favorite cat company. You would go on long walks as the sun set, nowhere truly in mind, just wandering around trying to think about anything else. You would listen to your music, trying to take your mind off of the man who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you first joined the team. It could have been yesterday based on how well you remembered it. 

But instead of wallowing, you tried to at least wallow in public, resolving to minimize the sheer amount of pity parties you had been throwing yourself.

Three days later, you had been walking around aimlessly, just trying to hit your new goal of 10,000 steps a day to start being active again, when your phone rang. You had answered it without a thought in the world since usually it was Derek, Hotch, and Emily on the other end. 

But this time, it was none of them. 

“Hello?” Spencer’s entire body froze once he heard your voice, once he knew that Diane knew who you were. 

“I just want her to see one more thing.” 

“Hello?” You asked again, just about to hang up, thinking it was some sort of prank call when a woman spoke to you. 

“Is this Doctor Y/N Y/L/N?” Maeve looked over at Spencer, confusion and horror in her eyes, while Spencer just stared at the phone, willing for you to hang up. 

“Um, yes? May I ask who this is…” 

“My name is Diane.” 

“Um, okay, Diane. Can I ask why you’re calling me.” You had just walked into your apartment, Spencer could hear the unfamiliar creek of the door as it slammed shut. 

“What do you know about Doctor Maeve Donovan.” 

Your whole body froze. “What?” barely even whispering out your response. 

“What do you know about Maeve.” Her temper exploded, and you just sat there trying to breathe. 

“Wh-what do you want to know about her?” You had taken several courses in negotiation, taught by David Rossi himself, so your training started to kick in, but your panic was fighting strongly against it. You just couldn't bring yourself to say her name.

The team was outside of the building, when Garcia had called and tapped them into the phone call Diane was making. When they heard your voice, all of them froze. This was not what she was supposed to do. How the hell did she even know about you? 

“I want you to tell me about how she ruined your life.”

Spencer tried to speak but Diane pointed the gun at Maeve, making him go silent. Maeve had started silently crying, unable to believe this is what her life had become. 

“I–, You want me to tell you about some woman I have never met?”

“Yes yes yes. Why won’t any of you fucking listen.” You recieved a text on your watch, from Hotch, briefing you on the fact that Diane had both Spencer and Maeve hostage in the warehouse she was calling from.

You took a shaky inhale before biting your lips. “I want to know that they’re both okay Diane. I need to hear both Spencer and M..Maeve speak.” God this was so fucking hard, it hurt so fucking badly.

Diane rolled her eyes before nodding at Maeve. “H-hi.” She whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—” she was cut off but the barrel of the gun pushed against her head. 

All you could do was clutch your fist while she spoke, because you realized you couldn’t be angry at her for falling in love with Spencer, because you had too. 

“And Spencer?” Your voice cracked out, desperate to hear his voice. 

“Go on Spencer. Tell her you’ve been okay without her.” 

Spencer winced and spoke up, dying for you to just hang up the phone. “I’m here Y/N.” 

The way he said your name made you want to curl up into a ball and die, but it wasn’t good enough for Diane. 

“Not good enough Spencer. Tell her how you ruined her life. She deserves to hear it from you since you broke her just like you broke me for loving the ONE WOMAN I DESERVED TO BE LOVED BY.” 

Spencer heard the sharp intake of your breath. He could hear you trying not to cry. After everything, he never wanted to hurt you, but clearly he had fucked himself over and over with every single decision he made. He knew you knew he was playing along with her fantasy, but he knew that you hearing these words would ruin your life more than any gunshot would. 

“Tell me Spencer.” You breathed out, knowing if he continued to play along, maybe he could make it out of this alive, regardless of everything that had gone on between the two of you. 

“Please.” Spencer turned to Diane. “She has nothing to do with this, let her hang up the ph–”

“If she hangs up, I shoot Maeve and let you watch as she dies.” 

And there it was. There was a small, awful part of you that wanted to hang up the phone right then and there. Let him suffer and feel the pain you had been feeling for months and months. Your silence was enough to let Spencer know you were struggling, which hurt him even more because that same small part of him knew he deserved it, forgiveness for you and all. 

The team listened to the silence, some of them waiting for the dial tone, others grieving the shit you put yourself through just for someone who didn't love you anymore.

“Would you rather I tell you how he ruined my life, just like he did yours?” You breathed out, finally saying something. The entire SWAT team, along with your team was listening in, everyone was waiting with bated breath to hear--everyone wanted to know.

Prentiss looked over at Hotch. “Hotch we can’t let her do this. It…”

But Hotch just shook his head. “If we hang up the phone, Maeve dies, and if nobody complies with Diana, both Spencer and Maeve die.”

Rossi spoke up. “You have to trust her, she’s negotiating. She’s buying us time. Whether or not we should be listening to this is the real question.” 

All of them went silent after that, a decision had been made. 

Diane’s face twisted into a smile. “I’d love too.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “D-Do you know what it’s like, Diane, to walk into work every morning and have every single person who promises you they care about you over and over and over again just stare at you like you're some sort of wounded puppy? Watching as they handle you like a glass figurine that they all feel responsible for breaking, and yet the one person who threw you against the wall doesn’t even notice.” 

Diane huffed, but she nodded. ”Keep going.”

“Do you know how long we were together?” 

Spencer couldn’t decide who the question was for. 

“Tell me Spencer. Tell me how many days of her life you threw away just to love someone who you’ve never met before..”

He couldn’t look at Maeve. He couldn’t look at Diane. Your heart had given out right then and there, they had never even met in person. He had fallen in love with a woman he'd never seen before.

“Tell her Spencer.” You voice came out harsher than intended, your resolve was gone, but it made Diane smile even more, becoming comfortable with the taste of venom in your mouth. 

His voice wavered. “Five years, two months, nine days, and three hours.” 

You let out something resembling a controlled sob, which had Diane’s smile growing by the second. Maeve just stared at him, and Spencer couldn’t tell if she was horrified or upset or just sad. 

“You threw away over five years worth of love, to ruin my relationship?” 

“Diane.” You said suddenly, trying to get her attention back off of the two people she was holding hostage. 

“What.” She was starting to become irritated, ancy, waving the gun around more. 

“Want to know the worst part about it.” 

“If you tell it to me quickly because I’m running out of patience Y/N.”

“He’s making me transfer departments.” 

Your big secret was out. 

“What.” Spencer breathed out, the shock spread across his face. He couldn’t imagine the bullpen without you, and when he wasn't on the phone with Maeve, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The days where you weren’t near him went by torturously slow, and all he could do was hope that you might look at him again, let him apologize, let him fix this. Diane watched as the pain flashed across Spencer's face, enjoying it.

The team all turned to Hotch, hoping that she was bluffing. But Hotch just looked down at the ground, confirming the awful truth. 

“I just finished putting in my transfer today.” You didn't know who you were explaining it to–the team, to Diane, or to Spencer, maybe all of them. 

“Being around him, knowing he doesn’t lo—” You went silent for a second before switching gears. “This was my dream.” Your lips started talking, and everyone listened intensely. “I trained specifically for the BAU. I got three Bachelors in worthless shit so that the FBI would spike its interest in me so that I could get into the academy and prove myself to Agent Hotchner. Prove myself to Jason Gideon. Then I went and got a PhD in Psychology with focuses in Trauma and Forensic Sciences. And I fucking loved it. I had finally proven to myself that maybe, just maybe, I was good enough. I finally found a place I belonged, with the people I belonged with. And I was so fucking good at my job Diane. You wouldn’t even comprehend it. But he took all of it from me. Every last bit of joy was sucked out of my body the minute he told me he didn’t love me anymore. The minute he didn’t even apologize for breaking my heart and ruining everything I worked so hard for. And then he still expected me to be at my best, getting pissed when I would be distracted, disrespecting me and my intelligence in front of our peers, our friends. He neglected our relationship, abandoning me when I needed him the most, and then expected me to love him all the same. The audacity is through the fucking roof.” 

Spencer was just staring at the phone, heart beating loudly in his chest. “And the honest to god truth Diane, the worst part of it all, I would forgive him in a heartbeat. I don’t even know why I would, I feel no fucking reason to forgive him, but I might as well. If he asked me to greet him on the tarmac and kiss him once this case is over and he survives, I might, just so I can remember how it felt to be loved. He barely noticed that I had stopped eating, or didn’t care enough to say anything. He didn't do shit when I would show up half an hour late to the jet because I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at my desk, because I haven’t slept in months. He just doesn’t care anymore and I’d rather die than step foot into Quantico again because losing him was already too much to fucking bare. I’d rather never see him ever again, if I can help it.” 

You exhaled, feeling the slightest weight off of your chest, but your words were calculated. The end of your rant held some truth to it, both you and Spencer knew that, but something about the last line of what you had said was bugging Emily. 

She turned to Hotch. “Rossi is right, she’s stalling.” 

“But?” JJ asked her, looking at the building, before looking back at Emily. 

“She’s trying to get Diane to shoot Spencer to save Maeve.” 

Just as the entire team realized this, they heard Spencer’s voice, steady and unwavering. “I told her not to come on this case because I knew she would have slowed us down.” 

Your brain shortcircuited as a hand came up to cover up your sob. Not because what he said was the truth but because Spencer knew what you were doing, and he was trying to do the same thing.

“She’s been useless ever since our friend was killed during a case almost two years ago. She’s barely intelligent, and all she does for this team, truly, is parade around with a positive attitude that gets on on everyone else's nerves because she could never put as much effort into anything as you clearly have.” 

Diane walked over to him, squatting down in front of him. “I want to hear you say it to her Spencer.”

Your mouth betrayed you as a soft whimper came through the phone. Spencer didn't mean all of this, he couldn't have, but hearing the words still burned you alive.

“I-I…You slow this team down, and I have always thought you were a waste of space. I never loved you…” And if it wasn't for the slight change in pitch right as he said never, Diane would have believed him, but she pulled away glaring at Spencer. 

“Liar.” She hissed at him. “Liar, Liar, LIAR.” 

All you could hear through the phone was a muffled struggle before a shot rang out. You heard a second one and heard Spencer land near the phone. You couldn’t make a single sound, conjuring up the worst scenarios in your head. You could hear him trying to negotiate with Diane. You could hear Maeve struggling to breathe. You heard him begging to take her place, you heard Diane screaming about Thomas Merton. 

You heard Spencer scream out wait before a gun shot rang out through the warehouse. Everyone was silent, for all you knew Spencer was dead. He had been shot agasin and killed, and the last thing you would have ever said to him was that you never wanted to see him again. But then, you heard Spencer start sobbing. The small twisted part of you came back and was so relieved that he was okay, that he was alive. But listening to the man you would die for cry over another woman’s body made your skin turn inside out. You had out your phone on speaker for your rant, leaving it on the counter. You reached for it, ready to hang up. But that’s when you heard your name. 

Spencer had sobbed your name. 

He scrambled over to the phone and frantically repeated your name over and over until you interrupted him. 

“Spencer.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered, sitting against the wall unable to look at the bodies on the floor. "I didn't...I didn't mean any of it, I swear."

“Spencer. I–” You inhaled sharply. “It’s selfish but I’m glad you’re still alive.” You whispered out, causing Spencer to let out another sob. 

"Y/N I-I'm so sorry. I-Can you..."

“I-I can’t do this Spence. I’m so sorry.” You whispered, your heart shattering all over again. “I can’t….I’m sorry.” And with that, you hung up, leaving Spencer on the floor, heartbroken and sobbing, truly losing both women he had ever loved in the matter of seconds. 

"You will never know true pain until you look into the eyes of someone you love, and they look away." ~ Anonymous

Next Part

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #Spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid angst #Spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds #Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

[ddejavvu]

another idea!

hotch has one heck of a crush on r. but he’s trying to be super chill about it bc the only person he knows she’s dated was a woman and he’s Not gonna be that guy.

but man oh man is she cute.

so he pines quietly hoping no one notices.

but of course they do! and the team keeps trying to get them together.

something something with the line “hotch, i’m bi”

this actually melted my soul it's the bare minimum but when it comes from him i'm on my knees... hotch x bi!reader representation!!!!!

--

Aaron's fairly certain Reid didn't actually forget something at his desk. Nor that he truly needed Prentiss to walk back there with him, 'in case he got lost'. And Penelope definitely did not want to talk to Strauss. He has a sneaking suspicion they all only ducked out of the elevator to leave you two alone on the ride down, which is frustrating because he's trying to respect you.

"Any weekend plans?" He turns to you with raised brows, trying to keep conversation going and void of awkwardness.

"Uh, not really," You shake your head, smiling at him. It's hard for him to tamp down the cartwheel that his stomach does, but he knows he needs to.

"Me either," He admits, "I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow."

"Oh, what," You scoff, lightheartedly teasing, "All the way until eight in the morning? Hotch, you went for a six A.M run on your birthday, you're incapable of sleeping in."

"That's not true!" He laughs, more genuinely than he ever would for your other teammates, "I'll make at least nine."

"Oh, wow." You nod, grin permanently etched onto your face, "And you'll still be at the coffee shop before they open."

The one by his apartment opens at ten. He briefly considers asking if you go to the same one based on the info you've given him, and then decides that there's nothing better to do with your remaining time in the elevator.

"You don't happen to go to Morning Roast, do you?"

"I do!" You turn to him with eyes lit up, "You go there too?"

"Every morning before work," He chuckles, "I guess I go too early for you."

"Oh," You huff, elbowing him gently, "Shut up. I'm not up that late."

"You came in almost half an hour late today!" He gawps at you, but where there'd typically be frustration present, there's only amusement.

"That's because some guy was flirting with me this morning and I barely escaped," You sigh, watching the numbers on the elevator screen tick down closer to G for Ground, "I swear, if one more creep tries hitting on me I'm just gonna tell him I'm gay."

Hotch stops dead.

You're not?

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Are you- you're not? I thought you mentioned an ex-girlfriend."

"Oh! Well, yeah," You nod, "But I'm bi, Hotch."

"Oh," He keeps his expression in check, even though he feels like grinning so hard his face splits in two, "I didn't know that."

"Well neither did I, for a while," You snort, and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open to showcase the lobby.

"I hope no one bothers you tomorrow," Hotch lets you exit first, following after you to the entrance of the parking garage, "Hey, if I do sleep in, maybe I'll catch you there."

"Oh, you can be my bodyguard!" You exclaim, eyes lighting up once more, "Thanks, Hotch. Okay, say, nine?"

"Eight," He grins, and revels in your groan-turned-laugh, "Fine, nine."

"See you then, bodyguard!" You click the unlock button on your car and duck inside, leaving him standing in the middle of the parking garage and smiling like a fool as you pull away.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[marlynnofmany]

Monkey Chase

I stepped off the loading ramp and got a good view of the reason why we’d landed in the wrong part of the spaceport. A giant cargo hauler lay on its side, broken and bent — had a ship crashed into it, or had the engine exploded? I couldn’t tell from here — and large slabs of spaceship insulation gel sprawled everywhere. The hauler’s cargo, clearly. As I watched, three people with a hovercart tried to shove one aside to no effect, and another slab as big as a cross-section from my old apartment on Earth slowly peeled off from inside the remains of the hauler. It hit the ground with the squishiest thud I’d ever heard - the thing was the color of smoke, but dense enough to make the ground vibrate from here.

I whistled, then regretted it when the tentacle alien on the ramp beside me scrunched up at the sound. “Sorry,” I told Mur.

“Ow,” he said, uncurling his blue-black tentacles. “Was that a human swear? It’s sharp.”

“More of a ‘wow-look-at-that’ kind of noise,” I said. “But swearing would sure be appropriate. What a mess.”

“You said it. Glad it’s not our problem.”

Captain Sunlight came down the ramp to join us, regal as ever in the bright yellow scales that had given her the name. “Our client isn’t answering,” she said. “I’ve put in a request at the local medcenter to see if they’ve been injured in this crisis, but haven’t heard back yet. Anyone interested is welcome to join me in walking over to where their ship was meant to be parked.”

Three other crewmates followed her out of the ship: Blip and Blop in their flowiest silks that both matched their fin colors and also showed off their biceps, and Zhee with his purple exoskeleton as shiny as always. They all made quiet noises of dismay at the state of the spaceport.

(Well, Blip and Blop seemed dismayed. Zhee was looking down his nonexistent nose at whoever had been careless enough to cause such a mess.)

Mur waved a tentacle. “Lead the way,” he said to the captain. “Here’s hoping the ship isn’t buried under all that.”

“Yeah, it looks heavy,” I said as we moved out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a little ship could be crushed under that, especially if it also took damage from whatever kaboom happened in the first place.”

As we got closer, I made several observations in a range of importance. A medical shuttle was zipping off toward the city center while another appeared to be waiting around just in case; the medics were standing there chatting instead of tending to anyone. The gel slabs couldn’t be pushed, though they could be lifted with a big enough gravity platform. There was only one of those here. Cleanup was going to take a while. The slabs covered a large area of ground as well as a couple ship-sized lumps, turning the spaceport into a sea of smoky gray translucent rubber.

A small creature bounced around on it. People were shouting about that.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked.

Captain Sunlight sighed deeply and sped up. “I really hope that’s not our cargo.”

“Our cargo’s an animal?”

“Yes, among other things. I thought I told you, but I guess not; it was a last-minute addition to our load. Someone’s exotic pet.” She looked up at me with concern on her lizardy face. “How are your animal-catching skills?”

“Depends on the animal,” I said, squinting at the fast-moving thing. I was the critter expert on the ship, but I didn’t want to promise anything. “What species is it?”

“I’ll bring up the description in a moment,” Captain Sunlight said. “I think I see our client over there.”

She was right. The slender Frillian with a leash and an exasperated expression did turn out to be the person we’d come to meet, and the various spaceport officials on the scene had no any easy answers about how to catch his pet.

“Normally he comes running for food!” the client exclaimed. “But he’s got plenty to pick from here!” He pointed accusingly at the spill of fruit from a truck smashed open by a slab of gel.

“Oh, like that’s my fault?” said a Heatseeker who was busy gathering fruit. “Half my stock is ruined! Go catch your little menace and stop complaining.”

This led to a rant about how impossible the menace in question was to catch when he didn’t want to be — giving him a bath had to be done by trickery — and he was never going to come down from this playground full of food, and oh the man should have just paid for a transit that allowed him to bring pets.

Zhee muttered agreement at that last, but I don’t think the guy heard him. Spaceport officials offered calming words and a reminder that nets had been sent for.

Captain Sunlight asked one of them, “Is there an animal-handling service anywhere nearby?”

“Nowhere close,” was the answer.

She looked back up at me. “Any bright ideas? Here, I’ll show you the description.”

While she unfolded a screen and brought up the information from this particular courier gig, I watched the jumpy creature carefully. He was close enough for a good look now, since he’d come back to snatch another alien citrus off the ground, making the owner yell after him.

My first thought was “monkey,” followed by “frog.” The animal was long-limbed and green, though with velvety fur instead of an amphibian’s shine, and had a tail that could hold fruit just as well as his hands could. Pointy nose, round ears, and the biggest eyes of anyone here except for Zhee. He could probably see a person sneaking up from behind. He was fast. And he was clearly having a great time jumping from one bouncy surface to another, making chattering noises and spitting citrus peel everywhere.

“It’s called a treeleaper,” Captain Sunlight told me. “Warmblooded, diurnal, omnivorous, and ‘a bit of a troublemaker.’”

Mur snorted. “Sounds like your species,” he told me.

“Just with a tail,” Zhee added.

“I wanted a tail as a kid,” I said absently, thinking hard. I’d just caught sight of a shipful of humans disembarking nearby, on the other side of the biggest pile of gel. They looked like they were in pretty good shape. One was already walking on the gel and laughing about the bounce.

I had an idea. “Excuse me, Captain. I think I see reinforcements,” I said, then ran off toward my unsuspecting kinfolk. When I got close, I took great pleasure in yelling, “Hey humans! Who wants to help me chase a monkey across a trampoline??”

They were all smiles and questions, then when I led the way to where they could see the monkey-frog jumping around with stolen fruit, they volunteered immediately.

“I’ll get the small cargo net!”

“Do you think the big gravity wands will slow it down?”

“Bet you a cleaning shift that I can grab it in a towel.”

“You’re on!”

I told Captain Sunlight that I had successfully recruited some animal-catchers, and she didn’t bat an eye, just suggesting that our crew gather similar tools from our own ship. Zhee and the twins rushed off while Mur stayed to yell suggestions.

The other humans were already venturing into the bounce zone. I hurried to follow, grabbing a fist-sized lime thing from the ground as I did. We made a wide circle before closing in.

The treeleaper saw us coming, of course. Threw a half-eaten fruit at one person and made a rude noise at another, then sprang up to ricochet between surfaces like an unholy pinball.

Thus began a merry chase.

It brought back memories of bouncy houses and birthday parties at the trampoline gym. The gel was tough enough to take an impact without doing more than denting briefly and launching a person hooting into the air, to rebound off another surface and hopefully not smack into anyone else in midair. There were a couple close calls. But that just made everything funnier somehow.

I jumped off one gel wall with and hit another with my shoulder, making the monkey-frog turn a 180 back towards a pair of guys with gravity wands. He tried to spring away to the side, but I threw my lime to bounce off a surface nearby, spooking him enough to change direction yet again. Somebody slid down a gel slab like a rubbery playground slide, yelping as that turned into a wild tumble. The animal didn’t know what to make of all the flailing and laughter. His hesitation was enough for the gravity wands to lift him partway off the gel, then when he stuck a leg out far enough to jump free, he was immediately bagged by a grinning lady with a cargo net.

Everybody cheered.

The treeleaper growled and tried to scramble free, but no luck. Somebody else caught up and helped tie the net off with a scarf. Everyone settled down to minimal bouncing, and many hands worked together to carry the bundle of ropes and disgruntled animal back to solid ground.

“You got him! Is he okay? He didn’t sprain anything in that net, did he? I hope he didn’t eat too much fruit. He’ll do that if given the chance, you know.” The owner was grateful and worried and relieved and talkative.

Eggskin had arrived from our ship with a medical scanner, and thankfully they could put everyone’s mind at ease about the state of our animal cargo. The treeleaper was fine. It had a stomach full of fruit and a bloodstream full of adrenaline, but all it needed was a nice nap in its carrying cage.

I considered asking why it hadn’t been in the carrier before, when the rented shuttle got its windows smashed, but I didn’t.

A small hand patted my back, as far up as it could reach. “Earning your keep once again,” said Captain Sunlight.

I laughed. “That was my pleasure.”

Another human lingering nearby asked, “Is there anything else that needs catching? That was great.”

“Yeah, you should sell tickets to this!” agreed another.

A Frillian in a port uniform said, “No, but thank you.” She paused, then added, “Hm. I wonder if that’s worth suggesting to the owner of all this insulation. It’s useless for its intended purpose now that it’s breached the sanitation shielding.”

I smiled. “It still makes an excellent trampoline even with footprints all over it. Lay those out in an empty field and charge people entrance, and they could make back a decent amount of money. You get plenty humans through this port, right?”

The woman who’d caught the treeleaper said, “We’re here early for a family reunion before the big festival, then there are three or four sporting events in a row. Let us know if that does happen, because we can get you a lot of humans interested in jumping on this stuff.”

I had to leave with the animal cargo back to our courier ship, so I didn’t hear how the rest of the conversation went, but I saw the official bring the representative of the hauling group over to meet the humans. He looked very interested in what the spokesperson had to say.

I grinned at the scene as I walked away: the intense conversation in front of the vast playground of bouncy surfaces. I wondered if we’d get a chance to come back for a visit when they got it set up properly.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #and today #humans are space monkeys #who enjoy certain things just as much as the next primate-adjacent entity #add another one to the list of things I've made up that I'd love to do in real life

[dragoneye01]

Confessionals

Tangerine x Reader

Word Count: 1,438

Summary: After saving your ass on a job, you end up on a long car ride with Tangerine and Lemon. Some things can’t stay hidden forever. 

A/N: Yes, I did spend more time than necessary on the Thomas and Friends wiki page. 

“Ok, can I be honest with you?” You leaned forward. 

“Of course.” Lemon leaned forward, too. Being the driver, Tangerine tried his best not to pay attention to this weirdly philosophical discussion. 

“I feel like I’m an Arthur. I’m too paranoid about failing and I’m too obsessed with being perfect. I think being an Arthur is my downfall, though, because if I never fail, I’ll never grow as a person.” You said. Lemon snorted and shook his head. 

“Mind you, I believe you’re wrong. You may think you’re an Arthur because you’re only focusing on your negative qualities, but I think you’re an Edward. Wanna know why?” Lemon held up his finger as if this was a teaching moment. 

“Why?” You asked, eyes wide. 

“For fucks sake.” Tangerine sighed. 

“Because everyone can count on Edward. Just like Tangerine and I count on you all the time if we ever get in trouble. Edward is kind and reliable, just like you.” Lemon went on. 

“Aww, do you really mean that?” You beamed. 

“Cross my heart.” 

“Well, if you’re calling me an Edward, then I’m calling you an Oliver because you learn from your mistakes and are reliable and hard-working. You let it go to your head sometimes, but you take care of others, like that time you helped Tangerine when he had a hangover.” You said. 

“I thought we all agreed not to fucking bring that episode up again, you shit.” Tangerine gripped the steering wheel hard. 

“He’s acting like such a Gordon right now.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, Tangerine can act like a Gordon, but that’s only sometimes. I mean, he did pull you out of that job just now.” Lemon reminded you. He didn’t need to tell you twice. You had been sitting in the back of their car for the last hour with your arm in a makeshift sling since it got broken while you were in the middle of a high-stakes job. You were in over your head and had to call backup, enlisting the Twins since they owed you a favor. 

“I’m not a fucking Gordon.” Tangerine looked back at you through the rearview mirror. “You take it back right the fuck now.” 

“I will the fuck not.” You snorted. 

“I’ll kick you out of this car right now if you don’t take it back.” 

“Wow, you’d throw out an injured friend just because you don’t agree with your Thomas the Tank Engine character analysis?” You put your hand over your mouth in fake shock. 

“That’s cold, man.” Lemon shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you two. Like a bunch of children.” Tangerine shook his head. 

“Hey, you’re the one getting upset because you’re a Gordon.” You shrugged. 

“Stop calling me a Gordon, you twit.” 

“Wow, nice insult. Did your mom pick it out for you?” You shot back. 

“Don’t talk about our mom.” They both chimed. 

“Ok, my bad.” You raised your good arm. “How far away is this safe house?” 

“We’re almost there.” Tangerine grunted. You continued to chat with Lemon in the back seat, the sky darkening until it was pitch black out. The safe house you’d be staying at with them was out in the middle of nowhere. Lemon had fallen asleep by the time you arrived. You were nodding off, leaning on his shoulder for support. 

“C’mon, you two. Get up and get out.” Tangerine put the car in park, shaking his brother until he woke up. Lemon almost hit him out of reflex. Your eyes felt heavy as you pulled yourself out of the car. Lemon took the keys and went to open the house up, while Tangerine held the door for you. The house was small and dingy with only two beds. Lemon took one bed and passed out without even changing his clothes or taking his shoes off. He must’ve been tired after the whole rescuing thing. 

You set your bag down on the floor and looked around, not sure where to sleep. You set your jacket on the small couch when Tangerine grabbed it from you. 

“Bed, now.” He demanded like an authority figure. 

“Where are you gonna sleep, then?” You asked. 

“We’ll share.” He shrugged. “I’ll leave you to change.” He walked out of the house, lighting a cigarette to smoke outside. You changed out of your dirty, bloody clothes in the bathroom and walked over to the door. Lemon was out cold, so you didn’t have to worry about being too quiet. Tangerine was sitting on the steps leading up to the house, smoking. 

“Those will kill you.” You said quietly, sitting down next to him. 

“Your job will kill you first if you keep getting in over your head.” Tangerine scoffed. You were silent and he wondered if he hit a button he wasn’t supposed to touch. 

“Can I ask you something?” He finally said. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re usually so careful. Why’d you take a job you knew you couldn’t handle?” His voice was tense. Not judgmental, but you could feel his jaw tighten with every word he said. It felt like you were being scolded. 

A deep sigh left your mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said I get paranoid about being perfect. I didn’t want word to get out that I rejected a job because of the danger-factor. I just.  .  . I worry what other people will think of me.” You quietly admitted. 

“You’re a fuckin’ assassin, love. What people think about you should be the last thing on your mind.” Tangerine told you, looking up at the dark sky. You couldn’t see any stars or even the moon. Honestly, you could barely see Tangerine in the dark. 

“I know.” You muttered. “I’m an assassin with some anxiety issues. How’d that work?” 

You looked at Tangerine and he looked at you and you both laughed quietly. 

“Did you mean what you said? That I’m a Gordon?” He asked. 

“Wow, my words really hurt you, didn’t they?” You smiled. 

“No fuckin’ way. I just don’t want to be compared to some shitty-”

“Why do you care so much about what I think? You’re a fuckin’ assassin, love.” You laughed, mimicking what he said. Tangerine glanced at you in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette. He raised his hand and cupped your cheek, letting his thumb run over your skin. You froze in place. 

“You know, I could get anything I want. I have the money, the skill, the charm. Yet, things always seem to be just out of reach. Lemon is lemon because our clients like to deal with me instead of him, no one likes lemons.” 

“That’s not true-”

“Let me finish.” He took a breath, waiting to see if you’d stay quiet. When you didn’t make a noise, he continued. 

“Lemon is lemon. You come waltzing in and you two become best fuckin’ friends. You like him more than you like me, it seems. Everytime I get closer to you.  .  .” Tangerine trailed off, pulling his hand from your face. Before he disappeared on you, you reached out and took his hand. You could feel his rings and watch under your fingers. 

“Stop.” You whispered. 

“I’m sorry if I upset you, love. It’s just how I feel.” He moved to get up. But your grip on his hand tightened. 

“I don’t.  .  . I didn’t mean stop like.  .  . just.  .  .” Your mind was moving so fast and your arm throbbed and you were at a loss for words. 

“I fucking like you, too, Tangerine. Look, Lemon is my friend and he’s easy to understand, but you? You’re like a closed book and I’m dying to get my fingers between the pages and open you up.” You admitted, then cringed at your metaphor. 

“You want to open me up? How morbid.” Tangerine suddenly laughed. 

“Yeah,” you said, tension easing away. “I want to dig into you like a bug and hibernate in your chest cavity.” 

“You’re sick.” He snorted. 

“And you love me.” It came out before you could stop it. Love. Love. Love. The air had that sudden tension again and you regretted it so much. You shouldn’t have said it. He was quiet. He was staring at you. Jesus, why did you have to say Love? 

“Yeah, I fuckin’ love you.” Tangerine said, barely audible, yet you heard it. You heard those words and you felt like your world expanded. You let go of his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder. Tangerine wrapped an arm around you, keeping you warm in the cool night air. 

“Hey, Tangerine?” 

“Yeah, love?” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Well, it’s about time you fucking said it.”

#my writing #dragoneye01 #confessionals #bullet train #bullet train imagine #bullet train x reader #tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine bullet train #lemon and tangerine

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: Mission: Spill (pt.9)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: A pleasant night out carries out into the morning as Kyle helps you to address feelings left buried in the shadows of work. But soon, your greatest mission yet, the objective that you have been working toward since your reunion with the military is placed on the horizon. Knives are sharped, blood is spread like bullets, and emotions are raised to new heights- the only question left is, will you be able to overcome this all in the end?

Warnings: 5667 words, slowburn, swearing, depictions of blood, injury, PTSD and hospitals.

A/N: ... well... shit happens hahhahaha and we are almost done, lets see what happens next!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ 24 Hours Until Mission “Spill”

When you woke up in the morning to the sunlight hitting your face, peeking out from between the blinds. You stretched your arms outwards and rolled over to your side, patting gently to hopefully find Garrick laying beside you. The space was still warm where he slept but was ultimately empty. 

Your head dipped before a string of curse words came whispering from the kitchen. A large smile spread across your face as you quickly threw on a sweater overtop your pajamas and made your way to the living space. Kyle stood shirtless at the stove, flipping pancakes as you greeted him with a kiss to his cheek in thanks. 

“It’s nothing love, thank you for letting me crash here with you,” he notes with a subtle blush to his cheeks, “Plate up, I’m going to give these a quick wash before joining you,” the man insists as you argue to wash them later yourself. To win the battle, he flashes you a dazzling smile that has you seated at the dining room table. 

“How did you sleep?” you ask, while wiping your mouth clean, Kyle takes a sip of his coffee, wrapping an arm over the top of your chair as he hums out contently, “Like a dream in all honesty, so much more relaxing here even when waking up to Spoons licking me in the ear.” You let out a horrified gasp, standing to go give Spoons a firm talking too before Kyle pulls you back down, “It’s alright love, truly. I took it as very cute- I like to think we have bonded well.”

Taking his plate, you load the dishwasher as you point him in the direction of your linen closet, the shower soon turns on as you feed Spoons and leave a gift basket on the table for your neighbour this evening for when they come to feed the cat dinner. Taking your turn in the shower soon after, you and Kyle head back to base before answering the long stream of text messages and missed calls from the task force throughout yesterday. 

--

As you go to open your door, Kyle's hand falls from the wheel to your knee, eyes asking you to stay a moment as you go back to seated. “Hey, before we go back to the real world again… I just want you to know that…” his eyes trail away from yours, staring off into the parking garage as you squeeze his hand, offering him a small smile- urging him to continue when your heart races. 

“...that I really enjoy spending time with you, in and out of the field. I know this is a weird place to say it but just before all the gear and armour goes back on, I feel more protected than ever when I am with you- in more ways than one and… what I guess I mean to say is that…” your eyes are gradually widening as your palms begin to sweat, you drop Kyle's hand embarrassed because of it and you watch as his small smile fades immediately, he stops speaking. 

“Kyle-I,” you start, heart beating rapidly as you search his eyes, “shit. I really like spending time with you as well,” you state while your brain short-circuits for the moment. “So I wouldn’t be wrong in saying that I really like you?” Kyle questions softly while tilting his head slightly. 

“Wow, umm! fuck-I-uh. Gods I thought you all hated me and then you say this… fuck, I really like you too Kyle” you speak quickly, your blush now carries its way down your neck and up to your ears as Kyle chuckles affectionately, only making you cover your cheeks as you lean forward, hiding your face between your knees as you shake your head when he asks to see your face again. “Love, please,” he laughs out while stroking your head. 

“I never hated you for a moment, I just was upset that the person I really liked then and now was not paying attention to me,” he states as you pop your head up once more, both of your phones are now blowing up as the team demands your attention back at work. You groan out, wanting to keep this little moment going but you both step out of the car and make your way to the boardroom. 

--

Once entering the office space, Soap pulls you into a large hug as his eyes flash over your neck, looking over to Garrick with a raised eyebrow as he shakes his head no. You roll your eyes, shoving Johnny off with a smirk, “get your head outta the gutter, Soap.” 

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” Laswell claps as you and Kyle take your seats at the table, Simon's knee touches your own as he keeps his attention directed to the screen and you feel John's eyes staring at the back of your head. “Tonight you will all be travelling by plane and jumping to location A, it is a 1km hike till the first objective that you will be scoping out from an elevated position. From there you will need to…”

The mission brief carries though as you all become tested on the various escape and exfil strategies, the targets of interest and of course, the accountants’ oligarch that you have a positive ID on. You all exit the room, folders in hand as you move towards the apartment where Gabby pulls you into your room, demanding details. 

“SO! You little, “oh, it’s not a date, we are not fucking…” and then I see that MAN- looking at you with bedroom eyes and what is everyone else supposed to think- I MEAN DID YOU SEE SOAP? He looked oddly disappointed that you and Kyle did not get up to anything when I know of your history together, you have left. Me. in. the. Dark.” Gabby rants while holding your hands as you blush, “Gabby you need to chill out, we were just hanging out and yes, maybe some feelings were regarded but that's it!” you retort as she screams. 

Simon comes rushing into the room as you stand to let him know nobody was being actively murdered as he walks back out, he throws out a comment that leaves you in silence. “You are part of our team- Kyle just gotta say it before any of us could get the chance after all that shit,” Ghost comments while picking at his gloves. You are wide-eyed, body still as Gabby loses her shit, “OKAY! I am taking that as my cue to leave, have fun before your mission bestie!” she blows you a kiss while making some explicit hand gestures that have you groaning out. 

Your room door slams behind her as you fall back onto your pillows, reaching a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. You listen as Simon and Gabby exit the apartment leaving you in a conflicting moment of silence. You debate getting up, following them towards the gym while your hand drifts to your phone, fingers hovering over your parents number as you blink away tears. 

The fuck, you think to yourself, holding up your wet hand to your eyes with a confusion  struck expression and in that moment, you don’t realise the phone to be already ringing before their bright voice echos throughout the empty apartment. “Hello hun, everything alright… I know you should be back on base by now, did something happen?” 

“mom/dad…” you comment in a small voice, you keep wiping away your tears, crushing out as you look around for a tissue box or spare shirt to wipe them away on. “Hey, hey, hey, what's the matter? Do I need to come over with the spoon and teach the other lads a thing or two over there?”

You laugh between sobs, shaking your head between your hands, “I just don’t know why the fuck im crying right now, I just- sorry for the swearing picked that up again. I just, I don’t know.” 

“Things are just a lot right now?” 

“Yeah…” you let out with a breath, now leaning against your headboard as you inspect your jeans, pulling out the random items in your pockets and observing them. “Do you… want to talk to me about it?” they ask sweetly but you can hear the concern laced in every word as they fumble around the kitchen in the background. 

“I feel so pathetic right now, I fucked up and everything okay now but I still feel guilty but I don’t know what I feel guilty about or even if its for me…” you trail off, not knowing how to continue the sentence as you stand up and begin to pace around your room. “I am a grown adult, sulking here like a baby that has a gun in their closet and is about to fly to kill someone that I have been stalking for the past three months and then in between that all I meet this group of incredible guys that… that make me feel like I can go through with this mission. Gabby consistently reminds me to choose happiness and when I think it arrives, I only get more confused and feel all the more guilty about feeling happy while this is the shit we do for a living, I should have never came back- FUCK!” 

You hear your parent drop the things around them as they speak more clearly down the phone now, “I am not going to tell you anything is wrong in you having these thoughts but what has made you think these things recently?”

“Kyle told me he likes me… and I like him back but that was after I had been an absolute degenerate- going off with my own team jealous-”

“Then why are you guilty?” your parent cuts you off in a strict tone as your shoulders cave in, feeling as if you were back at home, waiting in the corner on a small wooden chair in time-out. “Because we forgave one another too quickly?” your answer coming out more like a question as you pull the phone away to curse out some more as they tisk you on your language. 

“How could you hear me swearing?” you question, trying to move the conversation on, your head and heart overwhelmed now as you pack your bag and begin to iron your clothing that would be a wreck by the end of the mission. “I am not THAT old yet and don’t you go changing topics on me just yet, maybe you did forgive each other too quickly, maybe you didn’t but by the sounds of it. You both made that choice and look what it amounted to-”

“Wait- Gabby told you!” You grip your hair, groaning out as they laugh at you down the line once again. “I must say, I do approve of your two- stunning couple you would make.” Going beet red you cover your face with your thermal shirt just as you hear a knock on your door, “One sec!” you call out towards them as you call your byes to one another. Setting your phone on to charge you twist the handle open as John stands in the hall with a small smile. 

“All your stuff packed by the looks of it?” You mock salute towards your Captain, “Sir-yes-sir!” you report in a teasing tone as his eyes cast back down to meet your own, a smile spreading across his face as he tilts his head down towards you, now speaking in more hushed tones. “Bring your camera, will ya? Less paper work with pictures involved,” he winks before turning back down the hall humming as you watch him disappear into the kitchen. 

--

When you enter the locker rooms various teams nod towards the patches on your uniform as you pull your equipment bag towards your locker and empty out your pockets once more. You strip your shirt off, fighting yourself into your cargo pants as you snake a leather belt around your waist. You hear a whistle as you turn around with a raised eyebrow to whoever made the noise. Gabby stands fully geared in all-black, helmet leaning against her side as she smiles towards you, a few hairs sticking to her forehead as you reach out to fix them back into place. 

“Thanks,” she comments while looking you up and down, focusing on your colour full socks beginning to be hidden away by your matching black boots. “What?” you deadpan, “Nothing… just… really?” she teases out, “you bought me these, Gabs” you comment with a mocking eye roll just as she shoves you into your locker. “Alright you two,” Laswell comments, doing her best to hide a smile just as you flash her a wide one, shuffling over on the bench so that Gabby can sit beside you. 

You feel a pair of hands on your back as you stretch yourself around to face them, Kyle gives you a joking wave as you do the same with extravagant enthusiasm. He tightens the straps to your vest like usual as Gabby hands you your helmet. Locking it into place, you pat your knees and stand up, walking into line beside Simon who flicks your nose, not knowing how to respond. You look towards Gabby for help as she shrugs her shoulders and wipes down her gun. 

John helps Laswell up onto a table as she yells out into the room, “Our primary objective today is to ensure the lives of the public by removing the foreign oligarch found to be visiting us here in London. We have had the hotel cleared in preparation but if any civilians are to be found on site, relocation rooms have been highlighted on your maps. We go in, go dark, and all go home tonight- is that clear?”

The room fills with claps and cheers as a few slam their fists against the lockers. Your camera is strapped to your chest, gun glued to your hands as both words are to collide in this mission. You look up, praying to whoever was listening that all your friends would make it back to the apartment tonight. You feel a hand soon envelope your own, turning your head down you look towards the tattooed arm with a smile. “Keep that smile gorgeous, god knows we’ll need it for tonight.” You nod once just as the line moves towards the group of vehicles idling in wait. 

Simon slams the door shut as your van speeds off into the city streets, you watch as numerous young-people stand freezing waiting outside of nightclubs in shiny dresses or disheveled suits. A few food stalls have people yelling their prices down the street as a biker cuts through an intersection and horns vary into the night sky. John curses out, clutching the steering wheel as he takes a side road, already fuming about the traffic so late at night as Kyle usher's him to save that anger for later. You lean your head against Simon's shoulder as Gabby continues to look out the window beside you, gripping your hand with every breath she takes. 

--

Pulling into the underground car park, you all unload yourselves from the vehicle and load your weapons, using the elevator the first few floors, a countdown in the radio is heard as your team transitions towards the stairs. NODs fall on as your lazers point up the stairs, a hand on your shoulder signifies for you to move from the rear as the 45th floor comes into view. You all station in the hallway, listening for any moment as a muffled scream is heard from within a guest suite, another squad guides a scared-shitless civilian in their night robe out and towards the front of the hotel where police are beginning to arrive on the scene. 

Crushing underneath your breath, reports only followed a few hours later when social media begins chiming in, a clock had been set for the mission and your time was already begging halved by the hotel not actually being cleared like Laswell announced earlier. Splitting up the task force, you all made quick work of the floor before disbursing to accompany various other teams carrying out separate tasks, moving up towards the penthouse suite. “Dice to Watcher, how copy?” Laswell announces through your wires as you peek around the corner and burst into the bathroom, gun raised just before you snap a photo of leftover documents found underneath the sink, muttering a clear before switching comms. “Watcher this is Dice.”

“Fish has been compromised, there are unaccounted for enemy reinforcements heading up to your position, are you alone?” 

“Negative, Ghost is the next room over.”

“I need you to move towards him, now,” beginning to race over, Simon tips his mask to you in confusion, lowering his gun from your face. “What's happened?” he asks in a gruff tone, eyeing out the growing number of cruises below as muffled voices come through both your communications before going dead.

Your eyes widen into one another's, backing away from the window you both turn to exit into the hall just as a bullet whizzes by your head. You try for the radio to only receive static, counting out to three, you both fire down the hall, hearing grunt and a body falls before you, blood soaking into the brown carpet below your boots. Stepping over the body, you lean to inspect the fresh corpse, feeling around their uniforms you unload the hidden gun in their suit pocket and snap a picture of the tattoo on their sleeve that Simon so nicely cut their shirt open for you. 

A fresh set of boots emerge from a room beside you both as you fall to cover behind the corpse. Picking your secondary from your thigh you shoot at their leg as Simon muffles their cries in his glove and makes quick work to their neck with his knife. The body drops beside your growing pile as you both nod at one another and continue down the hall.

It is eerily silent, you had lost connection to where you team had gone, Simon was glued to your side and reportedly Fish was down. You did your best to not allow these thoughts to weigh you down, forcing yourself up several more flights of stairs. You fail to hear a Ghosts footsteps no longer walk in rhythm to your own, turning around you are pulled into a room just as you raise your elbow to slam your attacker in the face. They curse out in a foreign language to you, twisting their arm, you force the knife out of their hand- capturing it in your own as you raise to stab just below their armpit. Uncovered from the gear they wear, forcing them to the wall they drop their body weight, forcing you down to the ground with them as they pull out the knife and stab your foot. 

Kicking them in the face, you race to grab you gun and a singular shot sounds in the room, their body falling on top of yours as you lie there for a moment, listening to your breaths just before radio communications comes back on line. “Dice this is Bravo Six, where is your location?”

“57th floor, east wing,” you report back, groaning to shove the heavy body off your chest as Simon rushes over to you, mask covered in blood as you pick up a towel from a cleaning cart in the hall and wipe him clean. “We are awaiting your arrival at the penthouse, report when you are in range, over.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon radios in, taking your arm he ushers you behind him and moves to clear the stare well as you both navigate your way through the fire exit. Seeing a flash in your laser, you both nod towards a stationary team in the hall as you make your way towards the door. John nods at you, pointing at a spot across from Kyle where you stand in wait. 

A younger member from an assisting squad inspects underneath the door, reporting to John as he nods his head, glaring at the top of their head impatiently. Johnny moves in to disarm the surveillance in the room set on a separate grid through the electrical closet just as Kyle sends in a report that Shadow Company is providing long-ranged support from the opposite building's rooftop. Another lazer flashing through your NODs has all the conformation you need as you rally at the door. A countdown from three is on the Captain's fingers just as you all burst into the room. Taking the right wing you scan each corner and look over reverie hard-cover voicing over a clear just as you all move further into the suite. 

Room after room, the penthouse is deadly quiet, not a single breath or footstep to be heard as the rooms appear unlived in. Not a single cup removed from the cart or a pillow out of place. Johnny curses out, about to make a comment before bullets come flying from the wall you all are stationed on… someone knew of your operations. 

Your head racks your mind for whoever could have reported this information back in time for them to prepare and study for your team in such short notice to only come back with nothing, adrenaline pumping through your every vein- capturing your every thought. Clutching your shoulder, your foot is still sore from the bruising- no picture from the knife to be seen. Warm blood spills from between your fingertips just as you lean against a buffet-table in the hall for support. 

Kyle races over, bandages already torn out from his vest as he quickly secures the wound with ease. Voicing him a strained thanks, another series of shots are carried out as Laswell begins chirping down the radio as John so kindly asks her to, “shut up for a moment- I’m tryin’ to work too.” John catches your eyes for a split second as you raise your weapon up once again. Slamming the door open with his shoulder, Simon fires a flashbang into the room before you all rush inside. Two shots you place, one to the chest and another to the head to ensure your good work and this pattern is repeated tenfold as the seemingly dead penthouse comes alive with bodies spraying out from closets and underneath beds.

You listen as Kyle curses out in the washroom, the shower being turned out as he gets sprayed, wrapping the shower hose around their neck. You look away only hearing the stangled grunts that stop just as you allow your barrel to cool once again. A shot breaks the window behind you as you shutter and a body falls behind you, turning around you cast a thumbs up towards the Shadow as they flicker their lazer in response. 

--

Your team splits once more, the master bedroom and private living quarters now in view. Both sections are connected to one another in a loop- needing to be simultaneously cleared as you get stationed with Soap who inspects your shoulder and changes the wrap before you both move into the small sitting room. Footsteps of the separated task force echo down the halls as you both sidestep over the half-hazardly thrown chairs and broken glass shards against the floor. Apparent stress is found leading up into the kitchen as you and Johnny look to one another, holding eyes as he tilts his head- it was go time. 

Taking action into the room with guns raised you both shout out into the space, a shot rings out from beside your head as you both flip up your NODs to the light of the room. Taking that split second to blink an accented voice calls out to you, “stop or I shoot the maid.” A man in a white dress shirt, the hotel's logo embroidered into the breast pocket holds your eyes. Tears in their eyes as his hands grip the arm around their neck. In raspy tones they beg for their release, “please,” they choke as your finger stills over the trigger.

Johnny drops his gun to the counter as you keep your raised- waiting to take the shot as he tries to deescalate the situation. Hands extended, his fingerless gloves portray friendliness as he addresses the oligarch who’s grip only tightens on the handle of the pistol, pressing into the staff's head as they wince, larger tears extending from their eyes as they whisper about a mother. For a split second Johnny looks towards you and in that moment multiple shots are fired.

Head slamming into the counter behind you, you curse out before quickly looking up to see the maid grasping at themselves before crying out in relief, running out of the room and towards the other squads stationed outside the penthouse entrance. Your vision soon becomes blurry from your sudden movements, time slowing as you watch the oligarch’s yellow teeth smile at you, hand raised with another is strapped to their chest in pain. A wobbled trigger pull has you breathless and looking up into the bright white lights above. I did it… you laugh before starting to choke on your own blood. 

You are frozen, unable to panic yet Johnny does enough of that for you as his hands scramble over your body, feeling for where the shots entered and exit. Kyle, Simon, and John soon come running in from hearing the earlier screams, blood on each of their faces as horror soon accompanies it. You start to whine thanks while Johnny's face covers the light, he holds your face muttering words unheard to you as you reach a hand upwards and smile before cursing out in blinding pain as your eyes soon flutter closed only to be awakened by the shaking of your shoulders expanding your wounds. 

"fuck it hurts, it hurts so bloody much captain" you cry out to Johnny, your vision of him blurring once more as he holds your side. Soap tries not to shutter at the warm heavy liquid seeping through his fingers, staining the floors and the back of your shirt; mixing with your tears, as you choke back another sob to the throbbing pain- seeing white.

John curses lightly underneath his breath, hands slightly shaking as he looks over your half-sitting against the cupboards. Looking up, he makes sure there are no more imminent threats; he opens a pocket on his vest, pulling out his field medical kit as he shouts down the line for an immediate evac.

Hurried hands quickly kill any bacteria on the wound as you wince loudly and the captain covers your mouth with his gloved hand while looking over once more to check that you two would be uninterrupted. He yells out for the remaining task force to secure the room and pull out the oligarchs body to be bagged. 

Laughing to yourself, growing slightly delirious from the blood-loss and excruciating pain, you think that in any other setting- you would find these actions highly romantic. Smiling and shaking your head as your eyes roll at your loopy self.

John grasps your jaw firmly in his hand while holding a sterile cloth to your side with the other. "I need you awake for me love, eyes on me m'kay? eyes on me only Dice!"

Removing his hand from your face he begins to wrap a bandage around your core, trying it snuggly in position, he leans down and wipes the sweat away from your face and replacing it slightly was a smear, a blood that has him wincing. Giving your temple a kiss before placing his forehead against your own. You can feel how anxious ragged his breaths are against your skin as guilt begins to seep its way into your system. Panic soon seeping into your system as hidden thoughts flood your breaking mind, I should've done more, done fucking better, hell dice; can't even roll with the punches you take- utterly useless.

Yet you hear another set of boots rushing over to your side that has your darkening thoughts pausing momentarily as they drop their gun on the floor while reaching into a bag with a red-cross on the front. Memories float through your head at all the horror you had seen while having to use that bag, your breath catching in uneven sets, eyes stinging from no more tears left to cry.

"Shh, shh, it's okay gorgeous, we are gonna get you out of here, real quick- hold me to it" Johnny replies while taking in your state, eyes becoming wet before huffing out another request down the comms line. He moves to hold your hand, squeezing it in his own as the Captain moves so that you two can share this moment; looking out the window, eying the cityscape while waiting for Ghost and Gaz to report back at the scene with news of the vehicle, he checks his watch.

Your hand begins to scratch at the floor, as a gasp finds its way out of your mouth, trying to formulate words- you find yourself voiceless. A loud ringing now finds itself in your ears, blood running cold through your system as you realize what is happening, your legs begin to kick as you cry out into the darkening space.

Soap chokes back a sob, tears freely falling down his cheeks as he shouts out your name, beckoning you to come back down to him. John shouts down the radio once more- panic taking over his body as he walks in circles around the room. He can't bear to look at you- slipping away and not being able to do anything about it; they had used all the supplies relevant.

Your breaths begin to slow as your tears grace your cheeks once more, you feel your eyes growing all too heavy as you smell your blood coating your gear. The world turns black as a scream can be heard echoing out the building. The walls shaking and following around the men as they sit beside you- still. 

Gabby shoves her way into the scene before you, she grabs your hand, forcing it against her cheek. She pays no mind to the various calls of the Shadow Company nor Laswells orders as she places her forehead to your chest, breaths swallowed as panic begins to overtake herself at the lowering quantity of your breaths. “No, no, no” she begins to chant to herself as if begging. 

She feels nauseous as your lifetime together flashes through her mind. Elementary school days in watching shoes playing football during recess while you watched her breath a bone for the first time, shattering her ankle while going in for a  slide-tackle. Middle school, you come out as Bi and cried on the couch in happiness for letting it out, going sick from eating too much ice cream on the couch and throwing up in the toilet hours after. You held back her hair, holding back your own feelings as that memory soon blurs into your first high school house party. 

Finding you making out with Scott from maths as she snapped a picture that still sat in your diary back in your apartment with hearts and love notes swirled around like a frame. Gabby held you three weeks later when he cheated on you with the new transfer girl. She remembers you both dancing at prom with one another, your infectious laughter as you both drunkenly sung karaoke into the early morning hours during the after party. 

Months later you both would be separated during college just before you switched and went to study biology at the same campus as her. You both dropped out three months before graduating, your military careers taking off just as Gabby got engaged but never got to see the isle. You held her when a soldier announced that Elijah died while out on deployment you kept her from the edge that night… and now she sits here- guilt stricken for not being able to do the same. 

--

A relentless beeping sound as you whisper at a, “whatever that is needs to be turned off” to yourself just as a gasp can be heard and the hand holding your own falls to cover their mouth in shock. You cannot move, body stationary as they press a series of buttons and you rise to a relaxed sitting position, moving your head comes in a great deal of pain as you meet your parents eyes in surprise. Eyebrows raised, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the fuck did I tell you about language?” They tease back before lightly hugging you, plastering a kiss against your forehead as your face goes beet red and you look around the room for an audience only to find none much to your thankfulness. A clock displays a 3:41 AM on its hands as you curse out, the medication in your system beginning to wear off just as a series of nurses comes running in a few other staff members behind they shout, bodies unseen as they lock the door closed behind them, the blinds falling as the new injection has you in peace. 

“So… how long was I out for this time?” you laugh into a cry- your brain overstimulated after being dormant for the period. “Only a week, you pulled through- I think that it was Gabby’s threats that got to you. I swear that woman could animate a corpse with the sentences she strings together,” your parents smile while brushing the hair out of your face, you murmur a thanks before sleep finds you once more. They circle the back of your hand with their thumb as you lay unknowing to the passive-aggressive conversation that is being carried out from behind your room’s door.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @ashy-kit @lilliumrorum @kaoyamamegami @brokenpieces-72

#Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader #Poly!task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader #cod fandom #cod fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 #x reader #simp-ly-writes #simp-ly

[johnsgunbelt]

Hello hello perhaps!!!

141 gang (or whoever you’d like) with a gender neutral reader who owns a motorcycle.

And not only that, but they are low key a pretty cool and pretty silly motorcycle rider. Who wears their helmet all the time like it’s their face

🏍️ 💨💨

Like if you’ve seen little videos like these https://www.instagram.com/reel/CytvzeMvcH9/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvKx0u5pSme/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CuePZmJuw6p/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

And let me say, they are just this silly and outrageously confident cause their helmet grants them this anonymity to keep their identity a secret. And tucking away their social anxiety cause NOBODy knows who’s under there 😌😌😌

Motorcycles - 141

pairing: 141 x fem! reader SFW

warnings: none, just pure fluff

John 'Soap' MacTavish:

When he first met you, you were wearing a bunny helmet and doing wheelies on the highway and at the next red light he stopped with you and got your instagram.

Definitely notices how you don’t ever show your face at ALL under any circumstances which makes him more intrigued with you

He messaged you as soon as he got home and scheduled for you guys to go riding the next night and he got your # and address (Score for him:p)

He notices that even when you’ve known him for at least 4 months you never showed him your face and maybe it's because of the stunts you do publicly.

Like that one time you fell off your bike while stopped and he had to help you off the ground

Or the time you started singing extremely loudly with people in there cars

But he loves that you’re not afraid to be yourself, at least with your helmet on

And then finally one day while he went to come pick you up he asked to see your face, after 20 minutes you finally caved and took off your helmet for him

Jaw. DROPPED.

He always knew you were pretty but when he saw you for real, he could have sworn he fell in love right there.

“Wow-I mean uhm wow-I mean uhm shit.” He was struggling to find words about how pretty you were but just know after a month or two he asked you out and now he can compliment you all the time.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now He met you when you went to a car show and showed up on your very cute pink motorcycle that complimented your pink helmet. He came over to you and he made small talk with you until he got your number

When he went home he noticed you actually texted him first, he IMMEDIATELY replied.

“Hey! It’s ____ from the car meet <3 just felt like texting you!! It was really nice meeting you tonight.”

“Hey, it was nice meeting you as well. We should definitely go riding sometime.”

“Oh definitely just let me know a time and place!!:)”

Kyle wouldn’t show it directly of course but he was so excited. As soon as he told you to meet him at a local parking lot he was so excited to see you pull up

When you pulled up in front of him he took off his helmet expecting you to do the same but when you didn’t he looked at you confused as you tilted your head

“You don’t take your helmet off huh?” He said softly to you and you just nodded your head as he put on his helmet and invited you to follow him as you rode all night

Eventually the night came to an end and he drove back with you to your place as you parked your bike you said something you’d probably later regret.

“Wanna stay the night..? Youdonthavetoifyoudontwann-" “Alright Alright calm down love of course I wanna spend the night.”

And that’s exactly when he saw your beautiful face.

He looked at you for 10 minutes not saying a word as he admired you 

And to this day while you're laying on his chest 4 months later, he still thinks about that night.

Simon 'Ghost" Riley:

Now the way you two met was at a bar, when he pulled up not on a bike, but a car instead.

He hit on you so fast he got your number in 5 minutes tops.

Now in my mind I think after about 2-6 months you guys became official and he started just spending every night at your house no matter if you went out or not on your bike

But what he didn’t tell you is that he KNEW how to drive a motorcycle matter a fact he had one for about 6 years before selling it 

He always tells you he worries about your safety on your bike but you reassure him you’ll be fine but one particular night you said something you’d later find out to be false 

“You’ve never even driven a motorcycle, what do you know silly?”

“Oh? Is that what you think lovie?”

And then he opened the door to the garage and hopped on your bike as he started it and looked at you as he put on one of your spare black helmets

“You just gonna sit there n stare or ya gonna hop on?”

You then quickly hopped on the back wrapping your arms around his broad body

He then backed out of the driveway and sped down many many roads.

“OH MY GOD SIMON JESUS CHRIST-SLOW DOWN!!!”

“JUST HANG ON WE’LL BE FINE.”

And then he brought you to an abandoned little parking garage as he parked the bike all the way at the top for a nice view

“I had a bike for…I wanna say 6 years. I know how to drive a bike lovie s’not that hard.”

You were absolutely shell shocked

“You never told me!! Why?”

“Wasn’t important to me.”

And then from there on out you were his backpack most nights.

'Captain' John Price:

Now you and price have known each other for about 6 months he’s seen your face and he like ghost spends most nights at your house

Only difference is he knows how to ride a bike and told you prior to him driving you on your bike

He has a truck but had a bike for about 8 years prior to his truck

He ended up buying another bike just so he could ride with you on some nights.

He loved watching you do your little silly activities like wheelies and when you stopped at red lights and little kids would admire your bike and you would fist bump them his heart would melt

Now because he's a male biker I like to believe he’s had his fair share of girls hitting on them

Usually they back off when you pull up next to him

But sometimes they don’t get the message so if they don’t he’ll say something

“Already married.” “I’ve got a wife.” “That's my wife next to me.”

And the best part is you’re not married he just likes to call you his wife because it makes you all giddy.

Now when you do backpack him he tries to go slow for you but if you tell him to speed up he will 

He lets you basically control the speed and he loves when you’re his backpack regardless of the speed.

THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT SO WORTH IT AHHHHH!! I loved writing this :p.

#call of duty #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #smut prompts #cod x reader #cod smut #cod #cod mw2 #captain price #john soap mctavish #john price #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #mw2 #simon ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost headcanons #kyle garrick #kyle gaz smut #kyle gaz x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #smut #fluff #fem reader #x reader

[xetswan]

Youngest Shadow- First Day

One | two | three | four | five | six |

“You two good to go on your own?” Charlie questions us as we’re almost out of the door. “I’m not showing up in a cop car on my first day.” I straight up say causing the two to snicker.

“Yeah I agree with [Name] here.” She shrugs and we go outside. I tug my helmet on, purposefully forgetting my jacket in the house. Lugging myself over my bike I tiredly turn it on.

I wait for Bella to get her truck started and I drive behind her.

Getting to the school with her loud truck and my motorcycles rev going, heads turn our way. I park right by her and I take my helmet off, throwing it into her truck bed. I go up beside her once she was out of the vehicle. All eyes were on us and I knew Bella was mortified.

She still has her earbuds in, listening to music even though that wouldn’t help her anxiety that she’s experiencing right now.

A few people said hi to us, the majority talking about us. It was annoying to put it simply.

I saw this kid with glasses come up to us, he tried speaking to me as well but I walked away leaving him to flirt with only Bella.

Of course I have to deal with something more agitating.

“You’re one of the new sisters, right?” A girl with some ponytail questions me. I raise an eyebrow at her. “What? I’ve literally been going to schools here since we were little. Wow.” I act offended, watching her eyes widen and I start laughing.

“My names [Name]. I’m the younger sister.” I tell her, her shoulders fall and she forces out a laugh too. “I’m Jessica,” reaching a hand out. I guess I can try to be more friendly.

I take her hand, “nice to meet you.” I smile, “do you guys have a good Volleyball team? Softball team?” I take my hand back once I ask the question.

“Volleyball team, yes. Softball, I guess. I don’t really pay attention. I’m the captain of the volleyball team.” She proudly states and I smirk.

“When’s tryouts? Next year.” I ask,

“Oh due to something that happened earlier in the year we’re doing it now. Last day to tryout is today.” She explains.

“I guess I’ll see you there?”

“Well there’s so many forms you have to fill out, it’s unfortunate but you always have next year.” She seems to be intimidated and I didn’t even tell her about the fact I was the captain in Arizona. And that I have scholarships already for colleges who want me to play for them.

“I already have the forms, doctor wise. And I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind signing anything.” I wink, walking ahead of her to find a seat in our classroom.

I wish I could’ve seen her face after that.

Oh well.

Day 14 after my first day, I was on the Volleyball team. Co-Captain. Something Jessica was secretly but not secretly upset about.

Practically yelling it into the universe without realizing it.

Luckily out of everything I have a class with my sister, unfortunate to her it was P.E. And believe it or not we’re playing Volleyball and Basketball. Bella was treating the Volleyball as if it was poison or something that could kill her.

“Block it Chloe! Good attack!” There’s Jessica, of course I have two classes with her. She’s treating this game as if it was a real one. In reality no body could give a rats ass about any of this. It’s just so they don’t get a bad grade.

I wasn’t putting in my all, kind of standing next to my sister, hitting it for her whenever it came our way. This time I wasn’t so lucky and the ball came flying toward her. I tried to get it beforehand but I ended up bumping into her causing the ball to go right for one of the basketball players head.

I cover my mouth trying my best not to laugh, failing. My sister gasps, both of us run over to him.

“Ow,” he rubs the back of his head.

“Are you alright? I warned them not to let me play.” She tells him in an embarrassed tone.

“It’s only a flesh wound.” He grins, pretty sure he doesn’t realize I’m there too. She physically looks relieved she didn’t do much damage.

The bell rings announcing class is over.

“You’re Isabella right?” He asks before she gets the chance to walk away. “Just Bella.” She corrects him.

“And you’re her sister, um..”

“[Name].” I tell him in a dry tone. Clearly not as welcoming as my beautiful sister beside me.

“I’m Mike Newton.” He goes back to staring at my sister like she’s a statue in a museum.

Right as I go to leave, because clearly I’m not in this conversation, Jessica puts her arm over my shoulder. Dragging me to be in between Mike and my sister once again.

“She’s got a great spike, doesn’t she? Almost better than her co-captain of a sister.” She jokes and we all kinda force out a chuckle. I get second hand embarrassment from her try to jabs at me for becoming the co-captain and not taking her spot.

“So, you guys are from Arizona right? Aren’t people supposed to be tan down there?” She takes her hit at Bella. I went to step closer to her, going to say something back but Bella spoke before I could get a word out.

“That’s why they kicked me out. And she just couldn’t let me leave without her.”

Mike laughs, and Jessica looks at him from the corner of her eye, forcing herself to do the same.

I feel my sister tense up from the attention so I finally get us out of the situation. By just straight up walking away and dragging her with me. That didn’t do too much because they ended up following us after we left the changing room. All the way to the cafeteria.

Normally we would go to Bella’s truck to eat, but due to being followed Bella thought we could join them. Make some friends I’m guessing.

Eric from earlier this morning sat between Bella and Mike. “Mike you met my home girl and her badass sister?”

That’s the nickname I get? I was trying to get away from him away not seem cool to him.

“Your home girl?”

“It’s first grade all over again and you two are the shiny new toys.” Jessica tells us, Bella smiles awkwardly and I press my lips tightly together.

Suddenly a flash goes off, blinding my sister and I. We look up at the photographer. “Sorry, needed a candid for the feature.” The girl sweetly smiles.

She wore glasses, brunette hair pulled into a low ponytail.

“Features dead, Angela. Don’t bring it up again.”

I make a face at Eric who just said that. No reason to be mean to the girl.

“I got your back, baby. You too sweetheart.” He winks in my direction making me gag internally.

“Guess we’ll just run another editorial on teen drinking.” She says clearly disappointed.

“Sorry. There’s always eating disorders or Speedo padding on the swim team.” My sister says and I choke on my saliva after trying to stop myself from laughing. “Wait that’s a good one.” Angela says obviously not getting that it was kind of a joke.

Then the doors open to the cafeteria. Everyone’s attention going to these gorgeous people who look older than I guess they are.

Two girls and two guys walk through together. “Who are they?” Bella leans to the two girls at our table.

I watched the couple behind the first one that walked through the doors. A tinier girl with short hair, her boyfriend with honey-blond hair who’s taller. My eyes met with the girl but I didn’t look away. She smiles a tiny bit.

They sat down at the table that’s furthest from everyone else’s.

“The Cullen’s.” Angela says, Jessica leans in towards us even more.

“Doctor and Mrs. Cullens foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago.” Jessica gossips.

“They kinda keep to themselves.” Angela adds in.

“Because they’re all together. Like together together. The blonde girl, Rosalie. The big dark haired guy, Emmett.” Bella was paying attention like her life depended on it. Rosalie looked exactly like a model. Her man looking like a pro wrestler, less serious than his girl.

“They’re a thing, I’m not even sure that’s legal.” Jessica judges them but of course she still finds them attractive.

“Jess, they’re not related.” Angela stands up for them even though I’m sure they could careless what Jessica thinks of them.

“But they live together.” She rebutted before continuing on.

“The little dark-haired girl is Alice. She’s really weird.” Alice was a part of the couple I was staring at. She seemed light on her feet too.

“She’s with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he’s in pain. I mean, Dr.Cullens like the foster dad slash match maker.” Jessica slightly jokes towards the end. I will admit the situation is a little weird but we don’t know their story. She shouldn’t be so quick to judge.

“Maybe he’ll adopt me.” Angela sighs, Bella and I laugh. I like her. Then the door swings open again, the last Cullen with no foster match beside him.

I guess he looks like a model too.

“Who’s he?” Bella seemed intrigued, not taking her eyes off of him. “Edward Cullen.” Suddenly he looks over as if he heard his name from so far away. His eyes met with my sisters.

He seems confused and Bella looks away but I stare him down trying to get a read off of him. “He’s totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care.”

She obviously cared.

I watched the boy hide a smirk and I raised an eyebrow. We made eye contact and I don’t waver down.

“Anyway don’t waste your time.” She tells Bella.

His face was like a rock. Barely any emotion showed.

Weird.

I finally looked away. “I wasn’t planning on it.” Bella says but she takes a peek at Edward who was now out right staring. His expression seemed frustrated. I watched her become unnerved, now hiding behind her hair.

I roll my eyes at the whole situation, the lunch bell finally rang and I separated from the group. Angela was kind of behind me. Like she wanted to say something but was too scared. I took a deep breath. At least this wasn’t Jessica.

“Hey.” I smiled, slowing myself down to look at her. She jumps a tiny bit. “Oh, hey.” She smiles in return. “What’s your next class?” I asked, she seemed shocked that I was talking to her. Again Bella’s more welcoming than I am. So this is understandable.

Bella has that resting sad face, the one that makes people gravitate towards her, make sure she’s okay. As for I have a resting angry face. My eyebrows downturned, also it seems like these people have problems with piercings for some reason.

“Uhm, Algebra 2. You?”

“Oh same, twins.” I add little jazz hands making her warm up to me a little more.

“Aren’t you a sophomore though?” She quizzes, trying to remember if she was correct.

“I’m a Junior. I skipped a grade or so. When I was younger I needed to be with Bella for everything.” I laughed at the memory of little me, taking tests to be in classes with my older sister.

She chuckles too, “that’s cute.” She says, both of us entering our classroom. “There’s an empty seat next to me, c’mon.” She lead the way.

The class was basically just taking notes.

At the end of the day, I go straight to my bike, grabbing my helmet from Bella’s truck bed. I didn’t notice two specific states as I put my helmet on, getting on the bike.

I then watch Bella get to her truck, visibly upset about something as she slams the door shut after getting in.

I wonder what that’s about.

I already told Charlie I was going to the Reservation to see Jacob and the other guys. Charlie and Bella are gonna go out to eat together at his favorite coffee shop. Once getting there, Jacob comes out with Quil.

“[Name]!” They both shout, sprinting my way we aim kicking down the kick stand then taking off my helmet.

“Nice hair.” Quil teases and I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I left my brush at home today.” I frown giving them both hugs. “Where’s Bella?” Jacob looks around and I place a hand on my heart. “You too?”

“Am I not good enough anymore?” I pretend to be sad, I nudge Quil, Jacob furrows his brows confused by what I mean.

“Everyone at school is enchanted by Bella.” I inform him, we start walking. “I’m not hurt by it. But it’s super noticeable being next to her.” I laugh mainly to myself because I’m sure they wouldn’t find it funny.

“Well we notice you.” Quil pushes me. Jacob doing the same thing.

“I’m glad I have you Quil because Jacob totally still has a puppy crush on my sister.” I make fake kisses towards him, Quil roars into laughter, Jacobs face warming up in response.

Everyone knew about it, seemingly except my sister. It was no secret.

“That’s when I was like 9. Can’t we move past that?” He whines, but he was partially serious. I sat there quietly for a moment. “No.” I giggle with the other boy next to me as Jake was offended.

“So when’s your next game? Can we go, see you in action?” Quil questions me, he was excited to ask though he definitely just wanted to see the hot girls on the team. I smile, shrugging.

“We have one in two days. You guys are welcome to come. I know Charlie wants to bring Billy.” I nudge Jacob. “Well I’d be happy to come with them.” He says.

“I’ll write my schedule down for you guys. Billy can talk to my dad to see what’s best.” I try to hide my excitement from them. My mom usually forgot about my games from how much she runs around. Either being 30 minutes late or not coming at all. She always felt guilty once she realized. Apologizing over and over, ending in her getting my ice cream or some weird craft she made.

Dad always called me before and after my games. Even watching the tournaments on YouTube that our school put on.

I’m a middle blocker, normally doing the spikes, or obviously blocks. My serves were also known for being powerful.

“We’ll be there for every single one.” Quil tells me and I grin.

“I’ll count on it then:” I smirk.

“Want to put your talent to the beach? Everyone’s down there.” Jacob asks.

“Hell yeah, I’ll even race you fuckers to the car.” I laugh, all three of us racing to the vehicle that Jacob ends up driving.

Chapter two😚

Edited🤟

#bella swan #carlisle cullen #jacob black #jasper whitlock #twilight #alice cullen x reader #alice cullen #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #jasper #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen

[sugrhigh]

HOTBOX - ( m.s )

part two

summary- matt finally decides to smoke with his best friends for the first time, and he finds that it’s impossible to keep his eyes off of you

warnings- drug use, swearing, tiny bit suggestive

bff!matt x fem!reader

a/n: WOOOO finally a real piece of writing! i hope u guys enjoy. will possibly do a part two but idk, so if you have requests just ask!

he can’t stop drumming his fingers against the wheel as he steers the car along, desperately trying to relax a little bit and focus on the music that’s blaring through the speakers.

chris sits beside him in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard as you guys speed toward your destination. he can hear you and nate conversing in the back, practically shouting at each other over the song.

the waterfront comes into view through his windshield a moment later, moonlight shimmering against the glassy surface. matt takes the next left, swerving across both lanes of traffic to pull into the deserted lot.

there’s nobody on the beach of course, considering it’s almost midnight in the middle of november. he throws the car into park and lowers the volume, shifting in his seat so he can actually see everyone.

“i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever seen you drive, grandpa.” you tease him, unbuckling so you can lean forward in your seat.

he rolls his eyes, though he never actually minds it when you’re the one chirping at him.

“you’re gonna wish it was me once nate gets behind the wheel, i promise.”

“wow, so i volunteer to stay sober and this is the thanks i get?” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“thank you nate.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

matt watches as you claw through your bag, finally digging out a small blue pouch after a few more seconds of searching.

the moment you unzip it, the all-too familiar smell of weed fills the interior of the car. chris cheers when he sees you pull out a perfectly packed joint, holding it in between your middle and pointer finger with precision.

“you know, it’s really upsetting that you can roll better than me.” nate shakes his head with a sigh.

“aw, you gonna cry about it?” you puff your bottom lip out at him.

“i swear i’ll fucking walk home and leave you guys stranded.”

“sure you will. hold this.” you pass the joint to him before retrieving the lighter.

matt tries to play down the smile that’s beginning to take over his face as you hold it in your palm. he got that one for you on your last birthday. it’s a silver zippo lighter with a big winding dragon engraved on the side.

it was kind of a gag gift just because he knows how much you smoke, but you ended up genuinely loving it way more than he had ever expected.

chris smacks him in the arm gently, and he finally tears his eyes away from you.

“you sure you want to?” his brother double checks, though he doesn’t do a very good job of containing his obvious excitement.

“yup.” matt replies simply, his gaze darting in your direction again.

he’s never once felt pressured to smoke before, but he’s always been a little curious. he’s hung out with the three of you while you’re all stoned enough times to realize that he at least wants to try it.

and sure, maybe a tiny part of him is doing this because he wants to impress you. but what’s the harm in that?

“i’ll start her off, but then it’s coming your way matty b.” you nod at him with a smile, taking the joint back from nate.

his heart is already pounding and all you did was look at him.

you put the filter between your lips and spark his lighter, holding the flame to the end. he watches it burn as you inhale, trying to figure out exactly how he’s supposed to do this when it’s his turn.

you blow the smoke over your shoulder, careful not to do it in anyone’s face. no cough. matt doesn’t even see you flinch.

you take one more quick drag, and he’s already entranced by your fluid movements.

then you stretch your hand out, offering him the next hit as you silently exhale once again. it’s impossible for him to ignore the way he fumbles with your hand before he finally pinches it between his fingers.

it feels awkward, like he’s somehow already doing it wrong.

“just put your lips on it, suck in, not for long though because that’s real shit. then hold it in your throat, inhale it, exhale it.” you instruct him, and his mouth is already dry from the way you’re talking.

there’s something about the commanding edge to your voice that’s driving him crazy. he kind of likes that you’re the know-it-all, the one in control.

“sounds dirty, but you get the point.” chris states with a shrug.

yeah, sounds fucking dirty.

“you got this, don’t even think about it too much.” nate adds encouragingly.

matt bites the bullet, curling his lips around the end and inhaling. he definitely feels the smoke fill his lungs, so he pulls the joint away quickly and practically tosses it to chris.

“exhale, exhale.” you instruct, and he does so all at once.

it fogs up the car, smoke flying back up in his face instantly. then he feels it. the burning in his throat. the desperate need to cough.

he sputters, and chris is already motioning to one of the waters in the cup holder.

“keep holding your breath and drink that.”

he tries to do as he’s told, but it’s impossible to hold it in. he lets out a loud hacking cough. then another, and another. matt tries to sip on the water in between them, though it’s hard.

you rub his arm gently as the cough attack begins to die down, and the feeling of your fingernails scratching him lightly through his sweatshirt almost makes him shiver.

“i personally like a good cough everyone once in a while. humbles me.” you joke, removing your hand and sitting back in your seat once you’re sure he’s alright.

he misses your touch immediately, and it’s embarrassing.

chris has been keeping it lit, so he passes it back to you once you’re ready. matt is left out for a moment, and he doesn’t mind the brief break.

the music stays on in the background, a curated playlist of stuff that you all like. he sees you bopping your head along to baby keem, and you turn to him with the joint still burning between your lips.

“you want more?” you say as the smoke curls around your face.

in many ways.

matt nods and reaches to grab it from you, trying to be careful where he positions his fingers. he repeats his actions from earlier, breathing out slowly this time.

he still coughs quite a bit, but it’s not nearly as bad. the high is definitely rushing straight to his head, and it makes him feel like a balloon full of helium.

his brother guides the joint out of his hand gently. even he wheezes a bit as he takes his fair share, which makes matt feel better.

“how do you feel bro?” nathan asks him through the haze that’s filled the car.

“good. i feel good.” that’s all he can think to say.

and it is nice. everything seems just a little bit lighter. his body feels…loose. matt blinks, and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids.

you reach up to open the sunroof, letting some fresh air into the car. there’s not a cloud in the sky tonight, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calms him.

“one more baby hit, then you’re done.” you pass it to him for the last rotation.

“so bossy.” matt smirks at you, and there’s a humorous glint in your eyes as you watch him take a drag.

he tries impossibly hard to make it look cool, despite almost hacking up a lung and choking on his water. you laugh, but matt somehow understands that you’re not making fun of him by doing so.

chris snatches it from of his hand. “gimme that, it’s almost out.”

it’s like a game of ping pong as matt watches the two of you bounce back and forth, hit after hit. the joint dwindles and finally dies a minute later. you toss the burnt remains into a dunkin bag from god knows how long ago before slipping the lighter back into the pouch.

“alright, matt. time for you to switch with me big boy.” nathan reminds him, turning to open his car door.

matt follows his lead. his body feels like it’s three feet behind his brain, like his consciousness is just a few seconds faster. his legs wobble as his feet hit the ground, but he manages to steady himself, hand against the car as he moves.

nate walks him to the door just in case, and matt stumbles into his new home in the back, laughing at himself under his breath. you help him sit upright in the middle seat, reaching across his body to get to the belt.

“lift your arm.” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t want to, he listens.

you pull the buckle around and click it into place so he’s properly strapped in, doing it for him like he’s a toddler or something.

this is an action he’d normally protest, but he’s solely focused on how close together you are. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as your shoulder presses against his, knees knocking together as he gets comfortable.

“how are you doing? everything okay?” you ask lowly, looking up at him through those long lashes.

he can see the red tinging your eyes, and his own feel droopy as he continues to stare. matt just can’t help it. you look so gorgeous, somehow even more so when you’re both faded.

“cat got your tongue?” you joke, head tilted back to rest against the seat as nate puts the car in reverse.

“you’re pretty.” it slips out before he can stop it, and yet he’s too high to care.

your eyes go a little wide, and your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. he wants to kiss you so bad, to get rid of the centimeters of space between you and just press his mouth to yours.

“and you’re stoned.” you smile a bit and look away, trying to play it off.

“but i’m serious.” he doubles down, and you glance at him once more with those fucking bambi eyes.

you shake your head and place your hand on his thigh. “i promise you’re not.”

it ignites a fire in his stomach, one that won’t die down. he wants to move his hips, to feel some sort of friction against your palm. but he holds still, even despite how much he needs you.

“you don't know me.” matt hears his words slur together slightly as he speaks.

“i definitely do.” you argue.

“fine, but you can’t possibly guess what’s going on in my head.”

matt’s still not sure where any of this is coming from, or why he’s saying it to you now, but the word vomit won’t stop.

you shrug, squeezing his thigh lightly. he shifts a little bit, trying not to get too worked up over the pressure.

“i guess that’s true. so what are you thinking?”

matt glances up front at his brother and his best friend, and he knows neither of them are paying attention to the two of you. they’re too busy singing piña colada by yung pinch to care.

he hears you hum a little bit of the chorus under your breath as you wait for his response.

“i’m thinking about you.” he finally admits, leaning over so he can say it directly into your ear.

he can smell your rose shampoo, the fading hints of flowery perfume on your skin. it’s intoxicating, being near you like this.

you move your hand off his leg to shove his chest playfully. “shut up.”

the city blurs by as nate continues to drive, and matt admires the way the light from the street lamps dance across your face.

“why don’t you believe me?” he mumbles, barely audible over the combination of the breeze and the music.

“because you’re high as a kite, i can see it written all over your face.”

“doesn’t mean i’m lying.”

you study his face like you’re trying to find the truth in it. he can’t help but grin, because you’re so fucking clueless, and it makes you smile right back.

“touché.”

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #youtube