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leahswife · 2 months

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the beach episode

summary: beach day with leah. fluff, lazy kisses and sudoku.

"what if someone steals our stuff?" you ask leah, as you're laying your beach towels on the lounges. leah had immediately challenged you to a race to see who would get in the water first but you were worried about leaving your stuff behind.

"no one's gonna touch it, baby, there are people everywhere." she said, putting your bags next to the beach umbrella. "just hide it under our clothes." you suggested. "oh because that's a real cover, that's what's gonna keep the thieves away." leah yelped as you swatted at her with the beach towel. that should teach her for her sarcasm.

"leah, pleeease?" you whined. leah sighed, knowing how you could get worried over those things and proceeded to grab your clothes and put it over your belongings. you smacked her butt as she bent over and shouted, "ha! sucker!". you couldn't help but laugh as you sprinted in the direction of the ocean, leaving a bewildered leah behind.

the shock immediately subsided as she realized how you tricked her and began running after you. due to her athletic abilities, it didn't take long for her to catch up with you and grab you by the waist, tickling your sides, "you sneaky little rat!".

"leah! no, no!" you squealed at the touch of her fingers on your waist, grabbing her hands and wrapping them around your front. "truce, truce!" you pleaded, your head on leah's shoulder as you looked up at her with an innocent smile.

she narrowed her eyes, "oh, now you want truce, you cheater." you puckered your lips and she rolled her eyes with a smile, leaning down to give you multiple pecks.

"i shouldn't have ran, i'm sorry." you untangled yourself from leah's hold to stand in front of her. "well, i was still able to catch you so." leah smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "no, i mean i shouldn't have ran because i'm the one who's still going to get in the water first." you put your hands on your waist and eyed her defiantly, provoking her.

"ha! funny, babe. i don't know if you remember who's the professional athlete here is and who is used to ice cold baths. so if you'll excuse me, i have some humbling to do." she gave you a smug smile and headed towards the water. when a bigger wave came and splashed against her, droplets hitting her back, she winced at the sudden cold, "fuck!"

you let out a laugh, "oh i'm so humbled! thank you, leah." you ran more into the water when her cold hands grabbed you once again to prevent you from going any further. you squirmed in her hold, "off, williamson!" you were trying to move forward but with leah's strong arms holding you back, you both lost your balance when a bigger wave came by and both of you fell into the water.

you gasped for air as you came up and splashed leah's face, "now we both lost, idiot."

"umm, i'm almost certain i was the first to fall over." leah sent you a wink as she swam away on her back.

"you were so not!" you rushed to swim after her. once you reached her, only your head was out of water and your feet couldn't reach the ground. leah wrapped her arms around your waist and smashed her salted lips against yours. you smiled into the kiss, your arms reaching behind her neck when you felt leah's hands meddling with your bikini's knot and untie your bikini top.

you quickly pulled away and grabbed at your loosening top, "leah!" you scolded her as she laughed. "you are insufferable!"

–

"put on sunscreen." you told leah, who was laying on her stomach by the sun as you were chilling on your towel in the shade.

"it's not that hot, y/n, i'm fine." leah mumbled, her face pressed into the chair lounge, eyes closed, trying to take a nap. "the sun is still the sun, put on sunscreen." you warned her once again.

"i'm fine."

"no, you're british."

leah grumbled but just turned her head to the other side, ignoring you.

you groaned at her stubbornness and grabbed the sunscreen. "i swear you're going to be the death of me." you huffed under your breath as you started spreading sunscreen across her back, arms and legs. of course when you reached her ass, leah had the nerve to giggle and say "you just wanted an excuse to touch me, didn't you?" you rolled your eyes and grabbed her bikini bottom to pull it up, giving her somewhat of a wedgie to shut her up. leah yelped, surprised and slapped your hands away.

when you finished, you gave her a smack on the ass and laid back down on your towel by the shade where it was not too hot but not cold either, perfect for a nap. "thank you babyyy, i love you." leah turned her head to you with a sleepy smile. "i love you too, you stubborn brit."

–

after a little while, you feel a body scooch over on your lounger. you opened your eyes to see a sunburnt leah on her front. she gave you a guilty smile, "i forgot?"

–

"babe." leah poked your cheek, waking you up from your nap.

"hm?" you asked, opening your eyes groggily.

"let me sit between your legs, we're playing sudoku." she was quick to spread your legs a bit and sitting in front of you, back pressed against your front. you accepted the new position, too comfortable to argue. you repositioned the sun loungers back to sit up more straight. you wrapped your arms around leah's waist but she handed you a pencil.

you frowned in confusion, "you want me to help you?" she scoffed, "as if, love. no. i'm doing a sudoku on this page and you're doing one on this page." she pointed at the next one. "it's a competition." she stated. "no shit, sherlock." you mocked and grabbed the pencil from her, starting your sudoku.

–

"i'm sorry, babe. i am just really really good. i guess you could say it was an unfair competition. after all, you were playing with world class sudoku player." leah grabbed the sudoku book and threw it next to your other belongings, turning to you with a smirk.

you fake laughed at her and pushed her out of your lounger, making her fall in the sand.

–

now it was you who scooched over leah's lounger in the sun, "baby, i'm cold."

the sun was starting to set and you decided to move to leah's side where the sun still hit and you could warm up a bit. leah sat up and wrapped her arms around you and you leaned back on her chest. she started placing lazy kisses on your cheek, moving down towards your neck. you couldn't help but close your eyes and smile, being in leah's arms, warm, and feeling her lips press into your skin. this was peace.

leah moved her lips to you ear and whispered, "i'm sorry for being annoying, love." you opened your eyes to look up at her and frowned, "heyy. i love that you're an insufferable-" you kiss her, "annoying-" you kiss her again, "competitive-" and again, "brat." you give her one final hard kiss and smile up at her.

she has a bashful smile on her face now, "and i'll continue being your brat, for as long as you want me." she pulled you closer to her and pressed her lips softly against yours. you smiled and rested your head back on her shoulder, lazily kissing her back. these were the moments you treasured the most, the no pressure from outsider factors in your life, the relaxing feeling of your girlfriend against you, her soft lips carefully kissing yours, as if there was no rush in the world, and she could kiss you forever and ever.

you stayed like that for a few more minutes, just bashing in the warm sunset and kissing each other slowly before leah's hands start to roam your back and lay on your ass. you adjusted yourself a bit to give her more access and kissed her a bit harder. she knew what you liked, but you had to remember yourself this was not the place. you reluctantly pulled away and warned her, "leah…"

"hmm?" she smiled smugly. "you either stop or we go home." "but it's so nice out here." she said, her eyes wandering to your chest and leaned closer to your ear, "and so much emptier now." you looked around and most families and groups of people were gone, probably getting ready to shower and go out to dinner.

"we're still not doing it at the beach." you giggled at her pout. "but it would be so spontaneous and fun." she wiggled her eyebrows.

you stared at her, giving her a knowing look, "so you wouldn't mind if i was exposed like that?" leah shrugged, "no." you raised your eyebrows, "oh really?" you asked, challenge in your tone. your hands reached behind your back and leah sat up more straight, giving you a hesitant look. "so it's fine if other people look at what only you look?" you start untying your top with a smirk. you knew leah too well and with her possessiveness, she wasn't gonna let you show others what only she could see when you were at your most intimate.

leah knew the moment earlier back in the ocean was harmless as no one was close enough to you two and your whole bodies were underwater except for your heads. but now? her hands quickly reached for top and tied it back, making sure it was tight enough and gave you a glare.

"hotel. now."

#leah williamson #woso #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson fic

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erwinsvow · 1 month

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i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!

oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch

your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.

you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.

the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.

you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.

when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.

rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.

"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.

"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"

"i forgot my hair stuff at home."

"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.

"what am i supposed to do with this?"

"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."

"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"

he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.

"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.

"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"

"huh?"

"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.

"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"

"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"

"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."

you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.

"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"

"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"

you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.

"but i wanna look nice for the club."

"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."

"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.

"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."

"sure. whatever you say."

"that's right."

#btw is this the same anon who sent another ask in the pink font? my pink anon?#also im so sorry if this wasnt what you wanted its just what came to mind !#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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judasgot-it · 5 months

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i would like to request what hunting dogs would do when their s/o has insomnia, a lot of hugs and kisses please🥰

Sorry for the inactivity, I apologize everytime and I feel horrible about it :,(

I have horrible insomnia right now (I can't sleep well no matter what I try, it's hopeless) so I'm 100% using this to cope a bit. Also sorry about how messy reader is in Tecchou's part, I just love messy crying. I'm so weak for it.

Scenario: They help you fall asleep (Jouno, Tecchou)

Jouno

893 words

Jouno couldn't tell the time.

Whatever time it was, his body didn't care - it was screaming at him to go back to bed, making his bones feel sluggish with their weight.

Unfortunately, his ears kept pestering him, since no matter how quiet you tried to be, he could still hear you in the kitchen. Doing what? Jesus Christ, who knew.

Whatever it was, it was too damn loud.

It felt nearly impossible for Jouno to make his body move, but by some feat, he managed. He found his feet both on the ground, walking towards the bedroom, out the too-long hallway, and into the kitchen to see what in god's name you could think was worth losing sleep over.

By his guess, it was most probably around 2 in the morning. How horrible.

"Hi."

There was a loud clatter as he heard you drop the dishes in the sneak rather unquietly. Also, you screamed, but that was to be expected.

"Oh my god!"

Is there a God at this forsaken time of night?

Jouno sighed as he leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes out of habit.

"Yeah. I'm right here."

He gave you a moment to collect yourself, your heartbeat still skyrocketing through the roof. He yawned, nearly deafened by the sound of his jaw pulling at his muscles.

"So."

As patient as he could, he waited. There was noise on your end - a clattering of dishes, and he was sure you threw a towel somewhere, but that was of lesser importance.

"So. Jouno."

"Yeah?"

You patted your bare thighs, popping your lips together. Nervous.

"Why are you up?"

You tried to play your words off with a giggle. He knew he probably looked the least bit pleased, but nothing was going to convince him to go easy on you right now.

"Y/n. You know why I'm up. I'm the one asking the questions here, if I recall."

"Oh, right. Because you're 'the greatest hunting dog' and all, right?"

Jouno sighed, covering his eyes. He took a deep breath in, holding it in. It was calming, feeling his lungs slowly fill with air. His head cleared, helping him realize that the headache he had was I'm part due to the tension he was keeping in his body. In that time, he heard your heart beat skyrocket, your breath slowing as you stared.

He tried not to smile as he let go of his breath slowly. If Jouno wasn't exhausted he would have teased you about it.

"'Don't do this to me. It's 2 in the morning, go to bed."

Your laughter was a nice noise to hear. Just not now. God, not now. His body was dragging him to the ground and your laughter was reminding him that he was standing, awake - as if he were in hell.

Your laughter shouldn't be in a place as torturous as this. Like the hell between staying awake and crawling back to bed, because someone thought baking at two in rhe morning was a good idea.

"Sorry princess, but I need to put these brownies in the fridge. I'm trying out this recipe I saw online and I think-"

You didn't get to finish that sentence, as you were instead kidnapped in Jouno's arms. The man didn't care to hear the end of it - he only wanted it to end.

"No." He sighed, pressing his cold nose against your neck. "You're insane, honestly."

He muffled his words into your shirt collar, still restraining you as you struggled against his hold. There was no point, as no matter what way you fought, you couldn't fight against a super-enhanced human - even a tired one.

"This is so ..."

You paused for a bit, looking for the right words. Your brain was tired, although it hadn't registered to you just yet. Your heart still beat fast enough for you to convince yourself that you were awake, even if your eyes and mind were exhausted.

"So ...fun police of you."

The words that came out of your mouth came out sloppy at best, but they got a lame chuckle out of Jouno.

With care, he took you back to the bedroom - dropping you onto the bed like a pile of unfolded laundry. You practically laid there as if you were dead anyway.

"I have no problem arresting and cuffing you to bed if it means sleep is involved."

You giggled, as much as your tired brain could push from your throat. The bed shifted as Jouno dropped himself on the mattress, pulling up the still warm blanket over the two of you.

"What if that meant something else was involved too?"

Jouno groaned, turning back towards you. He could imagine the stupid smile on your face right now.

"Y/n."

"Yeah?"

Jouno took his hand and slowly, carefully, dragged it across your face. He felt as your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your eyelids fluttered before he finally set his fingertips on your lips.

"Shush."

He felt you nod against his hand, before finally relaxing. Tiredly, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair as he slowly pressed his lips against your forehead.

"Goodnight, sleepyhead."

Jouno felt a smile pull on his face at those words. Like an idiot, he let you roam your hands around his body - when really he should have smothered you to death.

Tecchou

739 words

Waking up before you were supposed to was like a coin toss - depending on the mood it's either a great early start, or the worst feeling in the world. Sometimes the body had gotten it's full rest, or it was forced awake by something talked about in horror stories.

Tecchou decided he was indeed not well rested, and that waking up at what could well be 2 in the morning was equivalent to a horror story. Why would he want to wake up to one of the worst sounds a man could hear - his own partner, crying?

Maybe if he was Jouno, but he didn't want to think about that.

He sat up, listening as he tried to decipher what you were doing.

You were rather quiet, trying your hardest to hide your cries behind your blanket (gross, but he appreciated the effort). Opening his eyes, he glanced over to see that you were enraptured by some sort of video on your phone, the blue light illuminating your face (and probably burning your retinas, from Tecchou's guess).

He shuffled closer, trying to peak at the screen while not disturbing you. Whatever you were staring at on your phone had distracted you well enough to not even notice his presence, was slightly concerning to Tecchou - you were very spatially aware.

Shaking your shoulder, he winced when you screamed - right in his ear, with snot blowing right across his face. He elected to not react to it, considering how red your eyes looked.

"Tecchou!"

"Yea. I'm here." He replied while casually wiping off his face with the blanket he was once sleeping peacefully under.

He stared at you, his amber eyes glowing from your phone screen. You looked back, trying to readjust to the sudden change in brightness.

"M'sorry, did I wake you?" You had finally shut off you phone, resting it on your chest - giving yourself a good chance to see his full face.

"Why are you crying, babe?"

His hand roamed around your stomach, softly pulling at the fabric around it. It made you shiver as you felt his legs press against yours, warming you underneath the sheets.

"Oh...um..." You tore your gaze away from his, staring straight at the ceiling. You fidgeted with your phone, trying to stop your trembling lip.

Carefully, Tecchou reached over and wiped away your spilled-over tears, thumbing your cheek as if your skin were made of glass. He pulled you closer, resting your head against his chest, trying to calm you. Adversely, this had the opposite effect, making you start to cry even more onto his naked skin.

There were muffled stupid and sorry between your sobs, although he elected to ignore them for now. Instead, he waited as your body was racked with tears, shaking and holding onto Tecchou as if he were a lifeline.

"Hey, babe?" Calmly rubbing your shoulder, Tecchou waited as you wiped your snot and tears along your sleeve, sniffing as loud as an American bullfrog.

"Can I ask what upset you so much?"

You lightly smacked his shoulder, still hiding yourself within his warmth.

"You already did, ass."

"Right."

He went back to holding you, waiting for your reply. Eventually, when he thought you would have maybe decided to fall back asleep again instead, with the room still cast in pitch-black shadows, you decided to reply -

"I failed my exam."

Silently, Tecchou nodded.

There wasn't anything he could say to make you feel better, at no words that he knew to say. It was easier to simply pull you closer, to make you feel better through his hold than to say anything more.

"It's fine, you should try and sleep. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

Carefully, he pulled your phone from your hand, sliding it onto the bedside table, hoping to stop you from looking at your failure once again.

You didn't need to be reminded of it anymore, not when he could distract you right now.

As gently as a man like Tecchou could, he took to scratching at the soft skin at the back of your neck, gently tapping his rough fingernails along your spine. He smiled as felt you begin to relax, breathing out a sigh as his fingertips brushed alongside your bare shoulder blades.

He watched as you relaxed into his form, waiting until you started to breathe slower so he could allow himself to fully fall asleep once again.

Sorry about the months-long break, I didn't mean to abandon Tecchou. Also btw IRLs of mine know about this account so if I start sounding even weirder on here it's because I stopped caring about my employment opportunities

#the quality is probably dogshit #ive been brainrotten cuz ive deadass be suffering from insomnia too #and also have a severe caffiene addiciton #anyway its been crazy yall #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #bsd x y/n #tecchou bsd #jouno x reader #tecchou x y/n #tecchou suehiro x reader #tetcho x reader #jouno x you #jouno saigiku x reader #im gonna make a new end card at some point mr beast stays but i never write for mushitaro #i need tecchou's big juicy yummyness on there but idk im so lazy about everything

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metalheadmickey · 2 months

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the scratches on ian's back are as frequent as the hickeys on mickey's neck 🤭 (he looks like he's been fighting cats)

The spray of the shower has Ian wincing, the hot water on his back making what was just a dull sting before now feel like fire across his skin.

He hisses and steps out of the spray, deciding to stick to perfunctorily washing only what's necessary for now. He's surprised Mickey decided against joining him in here. They'd both gotten pretty gross this afternoon. Everything that's dried and gotten tacky in Ian's pubes alone...he can't imagine how Mickey must be feeling right now.

When he's finished and drying himself off, touching the towel to the skin of his back feels like torture, and he whips it away only to find...blood? On one of their nice, new white towels?

He steps out of the bathtub and twists and turns in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what's going on. He's shocked to find a war zone on his back, scrapes and scratches much deeper and more numerous than he'd realized, swooping down and curving across his ribs.

"What the fuck? What the fucking...Mickey!"

He stomps out of the bathroom in search of the perpetrator of his grievous injuries, and unsurprisingly he finds him still in bed, naked and splayed and playing around on his phone.

"What." Mickey doesn't look up.

"Look what you did to me!" Ian turns around, presenting Mickey with his handiwork. "Put your phone down, asshole."

Mickey rolls his eyes and glances up over the top of his phone. He's fully floored by what he finds before him, shocked that this wasn't just a case of Ian being unnecessarily dramatic. "Jesus, what happened?!" He tosses his phone aside. "Are you bleeding? Get over here."

"You happened! Fuck, it hurts. It didn't hurt before, it hurts now. Is it real bad?"

"No, it's..." Mickey sits up and gestures for Ian to come closer. Ian backs up towards him so Mickey can get a good look. "Man... Okay, yeah, I did a number on ya."

"Could you clean it up?" Ian asks, turning around to face him. "Just like get some neosporin or something- What the fuck! What did I do to you!?"

"What!? What!?" Mickey frantically looks down at himself, touching his hands to his body to find that everything is apparently intact.

"Your neck!" Ian grabs his head to steady him, getting in close to inspect his own handiwork. "Oh my god, you can't go to work like this. I'll get arrested. They'll think I'm beating you."

"What the fuck did you do?" Mickey helplessly lets Ian tilt his head from side to side, allowing him his fretful inspection.

"Hickeys."

"Just fuckin' hickeys?"

"Mick, there's so many of them. What's wrong with me." He finally releases Mickey's head, sitting beside him and looking closely. "It's like I was trying to eat you."

"Well, yeah."

"And like you were trying to skin me alive, you freak."

"Okay, let's not-"

"We gotta chill out."

"No! What!? Ian, it was hot. Look, we'll clean up, I'll fuckin'...uh..."

"Wear a scarf to work."

Mickey fixes him with a look. "Fine," he deadpans. "You're lucky it's cold enough for that shit."

"A turtleneck under the camo. And the scarf."

"You need to calm the fuck down. It's not that bad."

Before Ian could pitch his protest, Mickey climbs onto his husband's lap, sitting astride him.

"I just showered and you're disgusting."

"Look," Mickey says, ignoring him. "I'm sorry I scratched you up. You were just getting me so good, you know?" He turns his voice teasing, his hand finding Ian's jaw to hold him in place and effectively distract him from his pique. "Like, really fuckin' good. Crazy good. Hittin' that spot." Lowers his voice, gets even closer. "Over and over. Didn't know what I was doing. And you just..."

"Couldn't help myself," Ian says, smiling, nosing up under Mickey's jaw, lips finding his neck. "Taste so good."

"Yeah..."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Mickey sighs, smiling, dropping his head back. "Just fuck me again."

"Don't wanna hurt you," Ian says as he lowers Mickey to the bed and gets over him. Fuck, it's almost too easy. Mickey grins wildly.

"Not even a little?"

"Maybe a little," Ian relents, kissing along Mickey's neck, across his shoulder. "Just don't touch my back."

"No promises."

#hehe #thanks anon!#asks #gallavich #my fic

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daintyys · 6 months

Text

baby i'm yours

fem!reader x tasm peter parker, 1.3k words, light swearing

this is a college au, basically peter and reader are dormmates at new york university. i love peter so pls give me prompts for him <3

Peter was your best friend, and nothing more. That's what you kept having to tell yourself.

But, it was hard to think like that when you got a glimpse of him fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and hair dripping. Let's face it, he was comparable to a Greek God.

You had been friends with Peter Parker since highschool, and it was a pleasant surprise to find out he had gotten into NYU just like you did. It was automatically settled, you would be roommates.

While you were studying creative writing, Peter was diving into the field of biochemistry. You couldn't seem to comprehend why he was so interested in science until a year ago, when he confessed to you that he was Spider-Man. You had to admit, it wasn't too surprising. He had that Spider-Man air about him.

Mornings in your dorm were nice, especially since you and Peter had breakfast together. You could always tell when he had been out in the city the night before, because he was ravenous.

"Mphm, mowe eggths?" He mumbled through a stuffed mouth. "If you're so hungry you should make them yourself." You giggled to him. He rolled his eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes. You stood up, wanting to start getting ready for your day. Peter's classes started before yours did, so right after breakfast he would always leave, but today was different.

You could feel his eyes on your body as you filled your glass up with water. A tank top and sweatpants was normal apparel for you, so it was hard to tell what was different about now. "Are you checking me out, Peter?" You threw your head back around to look at him, and his heart visibly stopped. "No! No, no. I would never do that, ew." He choked out. You cocked your eyebrow at him, and his eyes widened. "Oh you know I didn't mean it like that, you're cute, Y/N." His face was about as red as the apple he was biting into. You laughed as you retreated into your bedroom.

When you were finished getting ready, you left your bedroom to find Peter still sitting at the table. "You're still here?" You asked, sitting back down next to him. "Well yea, I just didn't wanna leave without saying a real goodbye to you." He wasn't making eye contact, which only happened when he was nervous. "Oh, well you're not planning on dying today, right?" You asked, laughing slightly. He chuckled back. "Yea, no. Just feel weird leaving without seeing you again." You admired his face, and watched a flush up his neck.

"Peter, you like me, don't you?" You were joking, he should have known that, but his mind was obviously not registering the way you had spoken when he blurted out: "Is it that obvious??". You froze, processing the words that had just left his mouth.

Peter slapped his hands over his mouth, not realizing you had been messing with him. "Oh fuck." Was all he mumbled as he stood up from the table, grabbing his backpack.

"No, Peter, wait!" You said, standing as well. You reached for his hand, and he quickly pulled away from you, a traumatized expression plastered across his face. "I am so, so, incredibly sorry, Y/N." He spluttered as he pulled his shoes on. As soon as he had finished speaking, he was rushing out of your dorm, slamming the door behind him.

You sat back down at the table, for fear you would faint if you continued standing. Your face was burning, and you were having trouble breathing. "Oh my God..." you mumbled, nervously twisting your hair. Standing up again, you noticed Peter's lunchbox still sitting on the kitchen counter. That gave you an idea.

You had liked him for almost 3 years. Even in highschool, where he was continuously bullied, he always managed to put a smile on your face. He was a "loser", sure, but that never stopped you from hanging out with him. He was a great guy. You thought of the time you skipped school with him all because he wanted to teach you how to skateboard.

On that day, you had sworn he was going to kiss you. He held your body close to his, trying to keep the two of you balanced on his skateboard. You had felt his heart beating rapidly, and wondered if he was as flustered as you were.

But none of that mattered now, because your relationship with Peter could be ruined after his little slip-up.

You grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, and began to furiously write. If speaking face-to-face with Peter would be too much for him, a letter would be the second best option.

Dear Peter,

Definitely didn't expect this morning to consist of you confessing your feelings to me, but that's alright, because I feel the same way. I have since we were 16.

I've tried for a while to deny it, but now that you've come clean, it's only fair for me to do the same. I love you, Peter. You are my favorite person, and I don't want this morning to change anything with us. If it does change, then I hope it's for the better, not the worse.

That's all, I don't want to scare you away.

Love,

Y/N

Your hands were shaking as you folded the letter in half and tucked it into Peter's lunchbox. Now all that was left was to get it to him.

You walked as fast as you could, not caring that people were yelling obscenities when you shoved past them. You had to get to Peter before his class started. Looking at your phone, you saw you had 5 minutes left. Shit.

You began to run, desperate to arrive in time. You threw the double doors to the building open, and ran in the direction of Peter's chemical analysis class. People were staring, because you definitely did not look like you were ready to divide cells in a lab.

You reached the classroom, and stopped to catch your breath. You took out your phone again. 2 minutes until the bell rang. You grinned as you pushed the door open slowly. Then you saw him.

He was sitting at a desk, staring at the board with glazed-over eyes. He was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen, and you giggled as you pictured a future with him. You walked over to him, taking deep breaths.

"Ahem..." You cleared your throat as you placed his lunch on his desk. Peter jumped, and went ghost white as he made eye contact with you. "Y/N, what are you-" He began. "Shut up. Don't say anything until you look in your lunchbox." You said as you turned on your heel and left. Peter was confused. Very confused.

As soon as you were out of the classroom, he ripped open his lunchbox, grabbing the sheet of paper you had left inside. He unfolded the letter with shaking hands, and read it carefully. His organs were in his throat. "I love you," He whispered to himself. "Oh my God."

Peter stuffed the letter into his pocket and shot up from his desk, and then he was darting out of the classroom with his things, needing to find you as soon as possible.

You were walking back to your dorm, smiling to yourself, when your racing thoughts were interrupted with a yell. "Y/N! Y/N!" You stopped instantly, and turned around to see Peter barreling towards you. You laughed as he engulfed you in his arms, kissing you all over your forehead.

"Couldn't wait until later, hm?" You giggled, looking up into his eyes. Peter smiled, and shrugged. "I could have, but I didn't want to." He said as he put his arm around your shoulder. AYou walked home together, fingers interlaced, and dreamed of your future together.

#peter parker #the amazing spider man #peter parker x reader #marvel #daintyys #andrew garfield

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writingduhh · 7 months

Text

Clingy || Jschlatt

Pairing: Schlatt & Y/n

A lil Angsty but ends in fluff

It was just another ordinary evening in the household of Y/N and Schlatt. He was engrossed in his nightly TV show, and you had just finished your much needed shower. Wrapped in one of his oversized hoodies with your wet hair still tucked beneath a towel, you settled down beside him. Before long, you found yourself resting your head against his sturdy shoulder, seeking comfort in his presence. Schlatt, with a subtle sigh, lazily draped his arm over your shoulder.

"Why'd you sigh?" you inquired, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Hm? No reason,” he responded, leaning in to plant a quick peck on your temple before refocusing on the TV.

"No, tell me," you insisted, remaining seated to study his expression more closely.

"It's just... You've been a bit needy recently," he admitted.

Hearing those words sent your heart sinking. The fear of being labeled as clingy had always been a lingering anxiety, one that stemmed from a toxic past relationship. It was something you'd never experienced with Schlatt before. Quietly, you shuffled away on the couch, ensuring that your arms no longer touched.

"It's fine," Schlatt reassured, giving your thigh a comforting pat.

Standing up from the couch, you stretched your arms and said, "I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

The question gnawed at you: Were you really being clingy? It seemed quite possible. Schlatt had been attentive all day, devoting as much time to you as he could. But at night, while watching his show, he cherished his alone time, a brief respite from his video work. You knew he wasn't the overly affectionate type; it simply wasn't his nature. You cringed inwardly, realizing how much attention you seemed to require. (After all, who doesn't love attention?). As you brushed your teeth and crawled into bed, you almost instinctively began to call out for him, letting him know you were in bed. However, this time, you stopped yourself, letting out a deep sigh, and swiftly removing his sweatshirt.

You rolled onto your side, pondering your actions. After about an hour of lying in silence, you must have drifted into sleep, as you were awakened by the soft creaking of footsteps approaching the room and the gentle opening of the door.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" you grumbled, slightly annoyed.

"Y/N?" Schlatt called, turning on the bedside lamp.

"What?" you replied, your irritation evident.

"Are you going to sleep without me?"

"Yeah? Aren't you going to watch your show?"

"Well, I mean, I was, but you hadn't called me to bed yet, so I got worried."

"Don't be worried, I'm fine. I was just going to let you watch your show," you yawned, resting your head back down.

"Oh..." He mumbled, his face showing a hint of disappointment.

Noticing the change in his voice and expression, you lifted your head back up.

“Something wrong?

"It's just that you always call me before you go to bed. It's our routine."

"I know. I was just giving you some alone time."

"But I like it when you call me to bed. It's our thing. It makes me feel needed and loved..."

"Aww, Jay, of course, I love you. Come here," you cooed, patting the empty space on the bed beside you.

Excitedly, he practically leaped onto the bed, knocking you over as he collapsed onto you, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

"I’m sorry I called you ; I didn't really mean it... Promise me you won't ever go to bed without me, okay?" he requested, his voice muffled by your shoulder.

“I promise,” you assured, wrapping your arms around him. “Promise you’ll tell me if I’m being too needy?”

“You could never… I was out of line. But I promise.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #ted nivison #jschlatt x reader #hc #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt imagines #jschlatt x you #jschlatt angst #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt #schlatt hcs #schlatt imagine #chuckle sandwich x reader #imagine

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lecsainz · 1 year

Text

Hotel Room

pairings: pierre gasly x horner!reader

warnings: room cards exchanged, pierre almost hit by a vase, christian horner being a cool uncle and pierre shamelessly flirting.

authors note: even though it's very short, i had fun writing it.

word count: 680

Pierre Gasly arrived at his hotel after a long day of practice sessions. As he walked towards the reception to check-in, he received a card key from the receptionist, and without bothering to check the name or room number, he went straight up to his room.

Once inside, he put his bag down and noticed that there was a towel on the floor. Confused, he walked towards the bathroom to investigate, and that's when he saw her - a beautiful woman, wearing only a towel, walking out of the shower.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Y/N yelled, grabbing a vase and holding it defensively.

Pierre, taken aback by the situation, tried to explain that he was given the wrong room and that he was just as surprised as she was.

"Hey, stop! I didn't know this was your room! And put down that vase, you might hurt yourself." Pierre said, trying to calm her down.

"You can't just barge in here like that!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing the vase at him, causing Pierre to duck out of the way just in time.

"Get out of my room!" Y/N continued to scream, picking up anything she could find and throwing it at him.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll leave. But you're the one who invaded my room, you know. And by the way, you look really nice in that towel." Pierre said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N glared at him, not amused. "Just get out!" shouted, throwing a bottle of shampoo at Pierre.

He ducked as the shampoo bottle sailed over his head and crashed against the wall.

Pierre realized that she wasn't going to listen to him, so he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the door. As he was leaving, Y/N's phone rang, and she answered it, still angry. "Hello?"

“Y/N, I just got a call from the hotel. They told me that Pierre Gasly, the driver for Alpine, was given the wrong room key and ended up in your room by mistake. Is everything okay?" Christian Horner asked, concerned.

Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god, that's what happened. I thought he was some random guy who had broken into my room. I threw a vase at him and everything."

Christian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness he's okay. I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just embarrassed now." Y/N said, feeling mortified about her earlier behavior.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. These things happen. I'll call the hotel and make sure everything's sorted out." Christian reassured her.

After Christian hung up Pierre turned around, curious about what was going on. Y/N hung up the phone and looked at him with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea who you were. My uncle is Christian Horner, the boss of Red Bull Racing. He's going to kill me."

Pierre couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. And it's not every day that I get to meet the niece of one of the most important people in my sport."

Y/N gave him a small smile. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It's okay. And by the way, I really did mean it when I said you look nice in that towel," Pierre said with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a flirt, Pierre."

"Guilty as charged." Pierre said, grinning.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, I guess we should introduce ourselves properly," Y/N said, extending her hand. "I'm Y/N."

"Pierre,” Pierre said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.”

Y/N smiled at Pierre. "You can just call me Y/N."

"Y/N it is then," Pierre said with a smile. "So, now that we've met under such interesting circumstances, can I buy you a drink or something to make up for the misunderstanding?"

Y/N chuckled. "Sure, why not? But only if you promise to tell me more about yourself and what you do."

"Deal." Pierre said, grinning.

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic

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happy74827 · 1 month

Text

The Way You Kiss Me

[Travis "Trapper" Beasley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: He’s called “Trapper” for a reason.

WC: 1443

Category: Fluff, Lime/Spice

I would say this is a fan service… but, truthfully, I couldn’t help myself. This is a service to myself LMFAO (enjoy the gif of Dan in The Guest since GxK is still fresh in theaters. I cannot wait for this movie to come out in hd quality 🤭)

『••✎••』

Trapper was a bit of a wildcard, in your opinion. You'd known him since your teenage years and had been the one to give him his name. He'd always been a bit of a recluse, even back then. The man was more comfortable around animals than he was with people. The compassion he had for the four-legged beasts was something you had always admired. It was his love of nature and the wild that had drawn you in; you'd never been able to pinpoint why.

That had been over ten years ago, but it felt like no time had passed. You had gone to school, became what you always dreamed of, and moved back to your hometown.

And, of course, it was only inevitable that Trapper would have trapped you.

It hadn't happened right away.

No, it had started slow, like a creeping fog. You didn't even notice it until you found yourself missing the smell of his cologne and his walkman that he still carried around everywhere.

“Yeah, luv, not everywhere's got Wi-Fi, you know?” He would always say, and the thick Australian accent would make your heart flutter.

He was kind, gentle, and a bit goofy. He could sing like a dream (not really, he was quite awful) and was the best vet in the whole world, or at least in your mind. He was utterly perfect on the inside.

And the outside? Well, a pure accident had gotten you two together.

You'd gone into his office, just like every other time, to borrow another of his rare records. Usually, he was there to let you in, but when he wasn't, you were thankful he kept a spare key under the mat.

The office had been quiet, and as you walked through the small space, you frowned, knowing that he never missed a day, even when he was sick.

Turns out your suspicion was right.

His water got cut off, so he swung by the office to shower, and well, you'd gotten to him before he'd managed to change. So, there you were, in your scrubs and lab coat, walking in on him fresh from a shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

It had been an awkward encounter, to say the least.

Trapper was not a big guy. Sure, he had broad shoulders and was decently strong, but his height was on the shorter side, and his muscles were more toned than they were bulky. He was handsome in his own way, and that was one thing you'd always liked. He didn't look like a bodybuilder or some sort of model. He looked like a normal man.

But the moment you saw him standing there, dripping wet and looking a bit shocked, it was like a switch flipped. Your knees felt weak, and the butterflies that had made their homes in your stomach started flapping their wings, making you feel all flustered and a bit embarrassed.

It made it worse when you realized he had his Walkman hanging around his neck. Dude couldn’t even make it a day without his favorite tunes.

And the fact that you had his favorite record clutched in your arms wasn’t helping.

You were the first to speak.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like this; I was just-."

He cut you off.

"Ah, yeah, forgot to call, didn't I? Water got shut off this morning, thought I'd shower here." He looked around. "Sorry 'bout the mess. Didn't know you were coming by today."

The towel was slipping. You could see his hip bones. You tried to look away, but you couldn't help it. He had such a nice body, and you'd never even noticed it until then.

You shook your head.

"It's fine. I, um, was just looking for one of your records; I didn't mean to."

He raised his hands.

“Settle down, sweetheart, don't get yourself worked up. No harm done."

It was only then that he seemed to realize what was happening. His eyes widened slightly.

"Oh. Sorry, I can just..."

"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead."

It was then that he noticed the album you had clutched to your chest. A smile spread across his face, and he gave you a knowing look.

"Fleetwood Mac… again? How many times is this now? Four?"

You flushed.

"I told you, they're my favorite."

He smiled and shook his head.

"You're lucky I don’t mind sharing. Come on, let's see which one it is."

As he took the album from you, his hand brushed yours, and you couldn't help the jolt that went up your arm.

He didn't seem to notice, thankfully, and instead flipped open the case.

"Ah, Rumours. My personal favorite."

Your heart was racing. You could hear your blood in your ears, and all you could think about was how good he looked in a towel.

He looked up and met your gaze. His lips twitched upwards.

"Welp,” He closed the case and handed it back to you. “Go ahead. It's all yours."

He stepped past you and walked to his office, leaving a trail of water behind him. You stood there, unable to move, just staring after him, the record still held tight to your chest.

"Hey, Traps?" You called.

He appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"What’re you listening to?"

He grinned and held up his Walkman.

“Toto. I was feeling a bit… nostalgic."

You couldn't help the laugh that came from your lips.

"Of course you are."

His grin was contagious, and he disappeared back into his office, leaving you standing there, feeling like a teenage girl with her first crush. Except the crush didn’t stay a crush for long.

You forget what happened initially, but one minute, you were holding the record out in the hallway; the next minute, you were on the couch in his office, the record discarded on the floor, and his lips were on yours.

You weren’t really sure who had kissed who first, but you had been surprised at his actions, and he had pulled away quickly.

The break was short-lived, and the next thing you knew, you were both making out, his freshly picked out plaid pullover discarded somewhere, and your hands buried in his hair, tugging at the ashy blonde locks as he peppered kisses all along your neck.

His skin was soft, and you could tell he put lotion on. His hair smelled like the shampoo he used, and his breath smelled like coffee and mint.

He had a bit of scruff on his cheeks, and you could feel the hairs brush against your skin. Ticklish, but in a good way.

He had strong hands, and they were running along your sides, pulling your hips against his, and the pressure was enough to make you moan into his mouth.

Nothing further had happened that day. It was his workplace, after all. It's one of the things he actually took seriously. But that didn’t stop you two from doing things in his office on the weekends.

Like now, for instance.

He had you pressed up against the door, his mouth working along your jaw and down your neck, his hands running over your back.

Your head was swimming. You couldn’t think straight. The only thing you could process was him: his touch, his smell, his voice.

You felt him push a leg between yours, and you ground yourself against him.

The groan that rumbled in his chest had you shivering, and you reached for him, fingers grabbing for purchase on his shirt.

He was a sight to behold. Hair mussed from your fingers, lips red and swollen, eyes darkened by lust.

His Walkman was never too far, and as his lips moved back up to meet yours, his hands were fiddling with the buttons. Honestly, it was a miracle he could still find the music while being preoccupied.

The sounds of the first few notes of the song had you smiling.

He pulled away and grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"A fan of this one?"

You didn't answer.

Instead, you took his hand and twirled him, pulling him against you, chests pressed together.

His laughter rang in your ears, and the next thing you knew, you were swaying back and forth, cheek resting against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

For a little while, you forgot about everything: no work, no big apes or lizards, no giant monsters or crazy scientists.

There was no need for them. Not now.

You were trapped in his arms, and you had no plans of breaking free.

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twistedbyfate · 1 month

Text

haikyuu boys: how you met <3

this includes hinata, kageyama, sawamura, sugawara, kuroo, tsukishima, and kenma. let me know if you want any more added and i'll do a part two! this is also going up on my wattpad under the same username ^^

shoyo hinata

you were a distance runner on the karasuno track team. when the gym had a leak, coach ukai told the volleyball club to take a beach trip and play beach volleyball instead as a fun activity. when the team reached the beach, they realized the track team was having a bit of a beach hangout to celebrate their successful season. at first you weren't with the group, out jogging on the shoreline. after a few minutes you came back, having ran to the pier and turned around.

while tobio spiked a ball to him, shoyo had been put off by the sand in his shoes and missed the ball. chasing after it, he grabbed it... only to realize the ball had rolled right to your feet.

"oh, sorry!" he apologized for getting in your personal space. you assured him it was fine and told him that he was good at volleyball. "why don't you watch me for a bit?" and so you did, tanning on your beach towel and listening to spotify while you watched a ginger play volleyball.

tobio kageyama

tobio wasn't the most studious guy. he struggled in school, particularly in english. it wasn't his native language, so why was he required to learn it? "kageyama. if you don't stop failing your exams, you're not going to pass the first year." his counsellor warned. tobio's eyes widened. not passing first year would mean he would be cut from the volleyball team. he opened his mouth to say something before his counsellor interrupted him.

"i know volleyball is important to you, so i've gotten you a tutor so she can help you on your days off. she's the top in your year." damn, he had to have a tutor and it's a girl? how much worse could this get?

he soon found out that it could get much worse.

"yeah, but why are they spelled the same if they mean different things?" he groaned, staring up at you. you sighed. he was quite stubborn, and refused to listen to a word you say.

"look," you started, "my goal is to get you to pass english. try and work with me here."

he glared at you. this would be the start of quite the entertaining relationship.

daichi sawamura

it started one day when you ran into the gym to talk to kiyoko, the manager. you were rosy-cheeked, with pom-poms shoved under one arm and a glittery bow in your hair. you had a cheer uniform on, identifiable by the short skirt and tight top.

daichi didn't pay much attention to you at first, but when he glanced over to see what the giggling was about, he dropped the volleyball.

"who's that?" he asked koshi sugawara, his co-captain.

koshi smiled. "that's (y/n). she's the captain of the cheer team. kiyoko-san is her best friend." he said politely.

"oh." was all daichi had to say. he was starstruck by the cheerful look on your face and the way you laughed. he hated to admit it, but he was disappointed when you dashed back out of the gym.

koshi sugawara

koshi and you had been friends ever since he moved next to you in kindergarten. you had a treehouse in your backyard, and once you became friends you had your parents attach a second ladder that dropped down into koshi's backyard so he could climb up.

"(y/n), i brought snacks from my kitchen!" koshi would exclaim every time you guys hung out after school. he loved the way your face would brighten up when he brought snacks or a game to play.

"let's play knights and princesses, (y/n)." he suggests one day.

"who's gonna be the dragon?" you questioned, seeing as that was how that game worked.

"uhh... i could get my little brother to be the dragon." koshi replied, looking at the knight helmet he had brought up from his room.

"okay!" you agreed, and put on a plastic tiara.

from then on, you were his princess.

tetsuro kuroo

stuck-up on the court and friendly on the streets, tetsuro wasn't the type to even go looking for a girl. he'd rather let them chase after him, which they had all been doing.

except for you, of course. you didn't even spare him so much as a glance. he stared into the back of your head in class, asked your friends about you, with no response.

it was getting annoying how you wouldn't pay attention to him, and frustrating how much he wanted it. it was starting to affect his schoolwork, even.

his eye twitched as you laughed and talked with your friends, careless about the volleyball captain's feelings.

"hey, (y/n)." tetsuro called out, giving up and just asking for attention. "did you do the notes?" he asked after, coming up with a reason to talk to you.

"oh, yeah." you said calmly.

"can i copy them?" he asked. he had already done his own notes, but...

"sure." you handed him your notebook. "bring it back to me tomorrow, k?" then you skipped off with your friends, ignoring when they teased you about him wanting your attention.

he opened the notebook and stared at the handwriting on the page. it was neat and bubbly, with doodles on the edges and all through the paper. dang it, even your notes were cute.

kei tsukishima

it was absolutely stupid how the second you walked through the door all eyes were on you. it was dumb how every guy thought about how cute you were all the damn time. it was definitely ridiculous how rosy your cheeks were and how you always seemed to trip over stuff. how short you were. how you always skipped through the halls. how you always gave that closed-eye smile when you were happy. it was all stupid.

kei hated that he wanted to talk to you so badly. he never thought he'd ever be interested in a girl, let alone one as popular and extroverted as you.

"do you have a pencil i can borrow?" his thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice. (y/n).

"uh, yeah." he handed her a pencil, slightly flustered that you had asked him of all people for a pencil.

"it's just a pencil. don't freak out." kei muttered to himself, trying to calm his racing heart. this was so dumb.

after class, you walked up to return the pencil to him. "thanks for letting me borrow it. hey, your name is tsukishima-kun, right?" you said with a warm smile.

damn it.

kenma kosuke

in reality, he thought you were annoying. always talking, always laughing and smiling. what a bother.

[hey] he typed out in a message to an online friend he had met. this person was quite interesting and had a sense of humor, even though her username was ridiculous. it was something like theOGbackyardigans or whatever.

[hey beautiful roblox boyfriend <3 ] she typed back, adding hearts at the end. kenma snorted to himself. dumbass.

[whats up minecraft girlfriend] he hit send, before shutting off his phone and heading to practice. this girl he met on a video game was the only person he'd ever had that much fun talking to.

hey y'all thanks for popping in! send in some requests if you want <3 i'd love to make themmm

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hbyrde36 · 8 months

Text

STWG Drabble 9/19/23

Prompt: “We’re not family”

“We’re not family!” Dustin spit the words in Steve’s face, looming over his hospital bed with a scowl.

Steve's heart sank. Oh no, not Dustin too. “But, you said I was like a brother to you.”

“Maybe at one point you were, but then you let Eddie die. How could you possibly think things could ever be the same after that?”

Had he done that? Was Eddie dead, and was it somehow his fault? He couldn’t remember, it must have been the pain meds clouding his mind. No wonder the kid was so upset.

“I’m sorry, Dustin, I'm so sorry. You know I would have done anything to save him if I could have. Please, you have to know that.” Steve begged. He had so few people in his life that really cared about him, and his heart was breaking at the thought that he’d ruined things with his pseudo little brother. He’d already been disowned by his parents after he didn’t get into college, what more could he take?

“You know what I think?” Dustin began, with a most unpleasant smile on his face. “I think you wanted him to die. I think you were so jealous of him, so afraid that he was going to take me away from ,that you’d do anything to get him out of the picture.”

“No, NO! That’s not true. I liked Eddie! I cared about him! I swear! Why would you…why are you saying these things to me?” Steve cried.

Dustin scoffed. “You're lucky I'm even standing here right now. What good are you to me like this? To us? Bedridden and broken. You can’t even protect these kids you supposedly love now. You’re worthless, Steve. Might as well throw in the towel.”

Steve tried desperately not to fall apart, but what reason did he have to hold himself together now if even Dustin didn't want anything to do with him anymore?

That’s when he heard a familiar voice start screaming his name in the distance. Nancy. She was calling out to him but it sounded like she was a million miles away. Suddenly, he realized that nothing around him made sense. He shouldn’t be in the hospital, and what had Dustin just said about Eddie? Eddie was fine the last time Steve saw him, not ten minutes ago! The last thing he remembered was climbing the stairs to the attic in the Creel house. Robin had just tripped over a vine, he was trying to get to her to help when another one had wrapped itself around his throat.

“You know she’s only trying to save you out of guilt, Steve. She doesn’t love you, she doesn’t even like you.” Dustin-not-Dustin said, his voice dropping lower with every word spoken.

Vecna.

Steve jumped out of the bed on the opposite side and ran for the door. He threw it open and sprinted down the hall. The hospital was a ghost town, which he figured made sense considering none of this was real.

He looked around as he ran, desperate to find a way out. Max had described a portal opening up when she’d escaped Vecna’s clutches in the graveyard, but she’d had the music to guide her then. He knew neither he, Robin, or Nancy had brought a walkman with them into the Upside-Down.

He kept running anyway, desperate to get as much space between himself and Vecna as possible while he tried to think. He wondered what had happened with Max. Had he not taken the bait, or was Max… already dead?

The thought made him want to give up. To just lie down on the floor, curl up in a little ball, and let that bastard take him too, but Robin would never forgive him if he gave up now. He pushed on, rushing past empty room, after empty room, finding nothing helpful or useful.

The feeling of hopelessness became overwhelming but just when he was again considering admitting defeat, the world around him dissolved and he was plunged into darkness.

He woke with a gasp in Robin’s arms. She was rocking him, tears spilling down her face.

“Oh my god, Steve, you’re back!” She cried, squeezing him tightly.

“Where’s Nance?” He asked.

“She’s up in the attic finishing Vecna off. When we couldn’t wake you, we went up there to start the attack, hoping it would force him to let you go. Nancy thinks he was trying to get you and Max at the same time, and it left him too distracted and vulnerable. We got him Steve, it’s over.”

He sagged in relief. Vecna was dead. He was okay, it sounded like Max probably was too. That’s when he remembered what Dustin/Vecna had said about Eddie, and his blood ran cold.

Steve pushed himself out of Robin’s arms and to his feet, quickly grabbing his axe from where it had fallen. He flew down the stairs taking them two at a time and praying he wasn’t too late.

“Where are you going?” Robin shouted at his back.

He paused for only a second to explain. “I think Eddie and Dustin are in trouble, wait here for Nance and meet me back at the trailer!”

He found Eddie kneeling on the ground surrounded by dozens of dead demobats. His spear and shield had been tossed to the ground. He was breathing heavily, hands pressed tightly to a wound on his side. He was hurt, he was bleeding, but he was alive.

Steve started stripping out of his jacket as he approached. He tugged the t-shirt over his head and ripped it, trying to create bandages the same way Nancy had.

Eddie stared up at him with wide eyes. “Am I dead?”

“No.”

Steve pulled Eddie's hands away from the wound and pulled the shirt up so he could get a better look at it. It was pretty bad, but it wasn’t gushing. If they wrapped it tight, and got him to a hospital quickly, Eddie would be just fine.

“Are you sure? Because the way you just stripped out of those clothes for me is definitely making me feel like I've died and gone to heaven, big boy.”

Steve blushed hard. It was just the blood-loss, he reasoned. Eddie didn’t know what he was saying, so he ignored it.

“You’re gonna be fine, Eddie. Hold that shirt up for me so I can wrap this.”

Eddie did as he was asked, but his gaze never wavered from Steve’s chest. He was pretty sure he even caught the other boy licking his lips at one point, and it definitely didn’t cause warmth to start pooling in his stomach.

Steve fought hard to concentrate on his work, but he had a feeling that as soon as this was over he was going to need an emergency bathroom floor meeting with Robin.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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pink3princess · 10 months

Note

hi 🙌🏼 could u do a small fic on john wick just standing outside the shower whilst the reader is showering because he is just like a ghost 🧍🏻‍♂️

cw;tw: nakey reader? john being unintentionally creepy

masterlist

Heat from the shower washed away everything on your mind. it allowed you to finally decompress after a long day; all you could think about was getting out of the shower, into bed, and knocking out.

After feeling content, you turned the water off and grabbed your warm towel.

And maybe, it was the steam clouding the room, or maybe it was the fact that your boyfriend was an assassin who was trained not to make a sound, but you failed to noticed him standing ghost-like a few feet from the shower.

It was only until you had stepped out onto the cold tile and the air had started to clear, that you realized the tall figure standing inches from you.

You let out a small scream as the life left your body, a hand falling over your chest in a dramatic attempt to stop your heart from failing on you.

You looked up at the intruder only to find your boyfriend looming by the shower in his white tee and boxers.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing in here? ", you asked him out of breath

"Just waiting for you," he said softly with a smile, his eyes crinkling in the process

You tried to be mad at him for scaring you, but truthfully you couldn't; he just had a puppy dog look on his face.

He closed the gap between you two and lifted his hand up, stroking the soaking wet hair out of your face.

"How long have you been there?" you let out a laugh, your hand now hanging on his outstretched arm

"Not too long..." he mumbled, softly wrapping his arms around you

"One day you'll literally give me a heart attack you know," your voice muffled as your boyfriend pulled you into his chest.

After that, there seemed to be a comfortable silence around you both.

You finished up your night routine and went to bed, where you were met with him on top of the covers quietly reading a book.

After shuffling into bed and nuzzling into his chest, John instantly put his book down and instinctively wrapped an arm around you, rubbing his hand up and down on your arm.

"I'm sorry for scaring you earlier," he says of the blue, " really didn't mean to"

"It's okay," you mumbled sleepily, "I guess I don't mind it. It's just a little quirk of yours. I know you don't do it on purpose."

He hummed in response, not able to put into words how comfortable he was around you or how much he loved you.

While stuck in his own head thinking of all the things he couldn't say, he noticed the the slow rise and fall of your chest, smiling to himself as you fell deeper into sleep.

#jess's inbox<3 #im sorry this took so lng i was so uninspired for a while #john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x gn!reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick 2 #john wick 4 #joh wick imagine #john wick 3 #john wick fluff #soft john wick #domestic fluff #domestic john wick #I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WROTE

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judasgot-it · 8 months

Note

Hihi!! So uh, Im not sure if your requests are open or not but, could you write a Dazai x GN!reader fic based on the song "Memories"by Conan Gray? If your requests aren't open then thats fine anyways have a nice day! :D

oh we are so ON I fucking love abusing Dazai. Also sorry about this one dude I am like going THROUGH IT but dw I'm getting better

also btw song recommendations cause I was also listening to it when writing this fic:

Bad Man - Alex G

Memories - Conan Gray

Scenario: Ex! Dazai coming back to the reader over and over again.

You didn't know how you felt.

A million feelings passed through your heart as you gazed through the glass, staring straight into the hallway.

Of course the bastard chose now to come here, at fuck off o'clock, when he could have done it at any other time.

"Y/n. Please let me in."

His voice was quiet. Defeated.

It was fake, you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

He was playing it all up. An act.

You didn't want to let yourself open the door.

It was cruel to leave him out in the rain.

You looked out the window again. The bastard was still there, staring blankly at your door. He knew how to look miserable.

Like a wet, abandoned dog.

Fucker.

"Dazai. Go home. Please."

You hoped he heard you. Resting your head against the door, you waited for him to respond.

Knocks.

He knocked three times. You could feel his knucks rap against the door, impatient.

You sighed. It was hopeless. He wouldn't give up.

"Y/n. Please."

His face was more miserable than you imagined as you swung the door open. His wet hair was pressed against his forehead, his eyebrows furrowing so deep they nearly hid his mocha eyes. The way he stared at you made you want to run away - it was intense, something more than human.

The only thing that blocked him from your home was your body. He stepped towards you. A small one, where you could see the rain dripping from his body start to leech onto your carpet.

You averted his gaze and stepped aside, letting him walk inside freely.

This would end the same as it always did.

"Close the door, I'll get you a towel."

Keeping your gaze anywhere else but him, you walked inside of your house, letting him inside. He was quiet as he got comfortable, but it grated on your ears - how he knew where to put his shoes, how he stepped right into your kitchen, sitting in the same seat he always sat in.

There was a corner seat along your kitchen bar, dedicated just for him. One that had a chair that wobbled as he sat upon it, creaking with his weight.

He was sitting in your home as if he belonged there.

It forced you to stare back at him, as he stared at the painting on your wall, his hair dripping all over your tiled floor.

His coat was hung on the coat rack, as if it belonged there.

"I'm making tea."

Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. Like a recurring nightmare where you could never run away fast enough.

Unfortunately, his presence was a little too big to be ignored. Like his cologne, with the way it smelled as sweet as a rotting body, forcing you to feel him through all of your senses.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for what I said."

"I don't want to hear that. I meant what I said last time. It's over Dazai, we're over."

You didn't let him look into your eyes as you kept your eyes on the kettle, using it as a sort of shield. At this point you were hoping he would be stupid to come behind you, so then you could throw it at him. Then you could see him have a reason to finally use the bandages covering his skin.

The exhaustion was getting to you. The idiot was wearing you down, he knew how to make people break.

It was easy to give him the satisfaction.

"I really do love you. You mean everything to me."

A deep breath. The air filled your lungs, making you realize that you had hunched over a little too much. Picking your head up, you got the bravery to look Dazai in the face again.

He truly looked pathetic, his wet hair plastered to his cold skin.

But his eyes looked as dead as ever. You couldn't see anything past them.

These really were just words to him.

"If you cried would it mean anything to you anymore?"

Dazai blinked at you. He slowly raised his eyebrow, giving you a moment to rethink your sentence.

You kept your face calm. The wait felt like walking through hell.

"I meant what I said Y/n."

He repeated his words, ignoring what you said entirely. There was a small smile on his face, as if that would change the situation at all.

Tonight would end the same as it always had. You tried to change the ending but Dazai was imperiable to your efforts. He was wearing you down like an old kitchen knife.

"I meant what I said too, Dazai. You need to leave."

You could feel how hard he hit his own face, as if punishing himself for the rejection. The laughter that shook his wet body was nearly mechanical - a little too loud for what the room could ever call for.

Dazai truly looked strange as he shook in his chair - his chair, as no one else could claim a chair that was bound to break at a moment's notice.

"Please, Y/n. Please. Stop. Why do you do this to me?"

He leaned his back against the wall, with only two legs on the ground. Like a child, he rocked like that, back and forth.

"Please, please, please. I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry. I'm here and I'm sorry. I'll let you kick me, I-"

He hit his head against the back of the wall, making a sound you'd rather not hear again from the man.

"I'll do anything. I'll let you kick me, spit on me. I'll be your dog for as long as you want, I'll beg. I'm begging right now Y/n, just please! I need you, I'm not anything without you."

He was crying, his voice great at lying. His face was too.

But his eyes still looked dead. It was all fodder.

The light behind his eyes, if you can ever even recall there ever being one, was out. All that was staring at you were two dead marbles. They had no destination, their game having ended long ago.

"I don't know why I let you in here."

The kettle began to scream. Your body ran to shut the heat off, for a second successfully ignoring Dazai.

You found yourself watching your hands as they automatically pulled out two sets of cups, getting ready to your tea. You had to force yourself to stop as you looked back at Dazai, still in his claimed spot.

He didn't live here anymore.

"I thought you were making tea?"

You stared at him, looking back to the box of tea on your counter. It was waiting for the two of you, like it always had after your fights.

A peace offering, even after the worst of them.

"No. Dazai, I'm sorry."

It was horrible, the way your voice began to choke. You tried to swallow it at first, but it felt futile.

"I can't keep doing this, Dazai. It's over. You have to go home."

It was frustrating - how you had tears welling up in your eyes, how your face began to swell. But it was worth saying.

"We can talk it out Y/n. I know I messed up, but I promise we can be better next time. We can work it out!"

"Get out. Please, just get out."

You turned away from him, putting away his mug in the cabinet.

Your mug. You bought it, with your money.

"While you're at it, go get your things that you haven't bothered to pick up."

Doing the best you could, you kept your back turned away from him, making your own cup of tea. Just the way you liked it, without bothering to think of how he liked his.

It left half of a kettle of hot water left. You elected to ignore it still.

It took a good minute or two as you waited for Dazai to get the message. He was sitting in that chair, waiting for you to get the mug out, to pour him a drink again.

Instead, you found the view of your blank wall much more interesting.

In your mind it was between nothing and forever when he finally stood up - knowing the way around your apartment and grabbing the items he quite possibly left on purpose, and to the time he got to the door.

He didn't leave just yet. The door didn't open.

"It's still raining."

He said that, waiting for you to respond.

Your eyes had drawn the face of Steve Jobs on the wall instead, trying your best to ignore him. It was hard too, since you could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks in waves.

It took forever when he had finally cleared his throat, taking one step towards the door. You didn't respond.

It was a long moment between that step and the next.

Then the next. And the next. And another.

The door clicked open after that, closing rather loudly. The loudest Dazai's lack of a presence ever felt in your life.

ok I think I'm finally done doing sad angsty stuff with Dazai. It's just too damn easy ! (I say this when I had this in my drafts for MONTHS)

#dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd dazai #sorry yall but IM WORKING THERE I SWEAR ON IT !!!

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southernbluebellereader · 1 year

Note

Hello there gorgeous 😂

May I request Bad boy!Ghost in leather jacket on motorbike? Bonus : they’re going on a midnight date 🤗

Midnight Dining

A/N: Omg hey Bestie! I got you girl, don’t you worry about a thing! ;) We love us a leather clad Ghosty <3 Thank you so much for this! Also this was a lot longer than I expected lol sorry

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Civilian Reader

Warnings: Hints of religion. Bad Boy/Good Girl. Cursing. Innuendos A little touching here and there in suggestive spots. A little Good-Girl-Next-Door Moment

Master List (Tag List at the bottom)

Oh God, how hard it was to resist a man such as Simon. He was such - you almost hated to say it - bad boy. But only God knew how irresistible a bad boy was when he was also a good man.

You were blessed to have him as your neighbor. Maybe not so much when your father's eyes never left his him every time he stared from the window or from the garage or from the mailbox.

You hadn't talked to him much, but you figured he was nice, right? He always let the neighborhood kids watch him work on his bike. It made your throat dry every time you watched him from your bedroom window. And let's just say he may have caught you a few times. The way you'd know if when he'd look towards your bedroom window, not quite looking at you, but he'd shoot you with a half smirk and wave a towel in your direction, pretending to swat an imaginary fly away.

"What's got you all flustered?" Your mother chuckled as she came in your room and stood beside you, smiling as she realized what - or who - you were looking at. "What's his name?"

"His name is Simon."

"He's cute. Have you talked to him?"

"A few times."

"A few times too many." You and your mother turn and see your father in the doorway, looking at the both you sternly with a folded newspaper.

Pouting slightly, your mother puts her hands over your shoulders as she talks back to her husband, "Oh hush, a harmless crush doesn't hurt." Your mother winked at you

"Yeah yeah you say that and our little girl is getting her heart broken by some thug." Your father pointed the newspaper at you and your mother.

"Daddy! Stop it! He's in the military!"

"Even worse!"

---

"Daddy, please let me get Simon, he can help you!"

Your father grumbled and mumbled and cursed under his breath as he stood up from the hood of the old car in the garage. He wiped his forehead and sighed deeply as he looked at you.

"Forget about me liking him, at least let him take a look at the car."

"Fine."

Squealing, you quickly walked over to Simon's house. You become more nervous with each step that you took as you approached his front door. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door firmly three times. Waiting made you anxious.

Then you heard noises from his garage and looked over, slowly walking over. Your eyes widened at the sight. You knew he had a motorcycle - you'd seen him ride it almost every day when he was back from the military.

You didn't know what he did in the military, but you didn't want to pry. You watched as he worked on the side of his bike, his back was towards you. His white tank top was nearly soaked in sweat, his shoulders glistened from his sweat. You looked down at your feet when he turns his head and sees you

He stands up and wipes his hands on a towel, "Y/N."

"H-Hey! Daddy needs some help with the car, if you're not busy, do you mind taking a look at it?" You blushed, fiddling with your fingers as you struggled to keep eye contact with him.

He shot you with a small smile and nodded, "Lead the way, missy."

He walked beside you back to your garage, speaking softly to you until you approached your father. It wasn't often you heard him speak. Most of the time when you heard him speak in public, his voice was dark and deep. When he spoke to you, it was soft and round around the edges - for your ears only. You looked at your father with almost pleading eyes, begging him to be nice.

"Y/N said you had car troubles, Sir."

"Yeah, mind taking a look at the engine?" Your father stepped to the side and allowed Simon to take a look at the engine. Both men were tense when interacting with each other, thus making you a little nervous. You let them work and went back inside.

After a while you come back out with a pitcher of lemonade and a few glasses. To your pleasant surprise, your father and Simon are not having a heated discussion.

"Either of you want some lemonade?"

Both men looked at you as you placed two glasses on a stool and poured them each a glass, handing each of them a glass. Your father thanked you, and your name rolled off of Simon's tongue after he thanked you.

"Oh, Simon, let me pay you for helping me today- Y/N, would you be a darling and get me my wallet."

Simon raised his hand in protest and shook his head, "No, it's alright. The lemonade will suffice."

"Are you crazy? Let me pay you."

After a few minutes of light arguing, Simon was amused and finally suggested, "How about this: You let me take Y/N out on a date. A dinner"

Your father cocked his head, a vein beginning to bulge on his forehead. He looked over at you, you were in the front yard, helping your mother with something, pretending not to listen, then back at Simon.

"I know what you think of me, Sir, but you can't always protect your daughter - let me protect her also."

With all honesty, your father was surprised to hear Simon say that. Simon was a little rough around the edges. He'd come home late at night, music blaring during the wee hours of the night. The stories echoing throughout town of Simon beating a man half to death for looking at him funny.

He didn't have to help your father with the car. He didn't have to fix the mailbox the other day when the neighbor's kid drove into it. He didn't have to bring flowers to his daughter on her birthday.

Reluctantly nodding, your father agreed, then looked at him sternly, "I want her back in one piece, Simon. Don't let your eyes ever leave her, so help me God. And I want her back by one."

Simon held out his hand, waiting for it to be shaken by your father. He shook it, then said, "Now go ask her."

Smiling, Simon walked over to you, nervousness hovering over him - which was unusual. He didn't actually think he'd actually get to ask you out. "Y/N?"

You looked up from the rose bushes and stood up, smiling gently up at him, "Hi, Simon. You and Daddy fix the car?"

"Yeah, she's all good now," He swallowed hard, looked away for a moment, then back down at you, then blurting out, "I'm going to pick you up at eight tonight."

Giggling, you held your hand over your mouth. Simon's cheeks blushing slightly.

"Oh? What for?"

"Dinner. We're taking the bike. Think you'll be ready by then?"

"I'll be ready by then."

---

Eight o'clock in the evening came just too quickly. Simon had showered and probably put too much cologne on. He checked his watch and quickly put his leather jacket on. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers from his kitchen counter on his way out and walked over to your house. After ringing your door bell, he turned around, almost afraid to continue. He felt like a school boy. but you were so pretty - so kind, and soft, and caring.

He told you almost nothing of his military life, but he'll never forget the one time you told him, You have a good heart, Simon. A good and kind heart.

God, were you too good for him. He wished he'd never met you. He'd never think he could ever be in your presence, but here he was, about to take you on a date.

"Simon?"

He didn't hear the door open. The thoughts of you distracted him. He turned around to see you, dressed in a long red dress. His chest tightened at the sight of you.

"C'mon in, I just need to get my shoes."

He stepped inside your home, then handed you the flowers he'd gotten. You closed the door behind him and gladly took them, "Oh, Simon, these are so pretty! Thank you!"

"Here, let me take them. I'll put them in a vase, you get your shoes." Your mother took the flowers from you, leaving you, Simon, and your father. You took a moment to take in his appearance. It wasn't often that he wore his leather jacket - usually when he rode his bike. And he fixed his hair - or at least it looked a little neater.

"You look really nice, Simon."

Blushing slightly, he smiled gently at you, taking in your appearance. He always thought you were beautiful. Always dolled up - even to the grocery store - even when you didn't need to. He'd sometimes see you in your window as you got ready.

"You look beautiful, Y/N."

Your father cleared his throat, breaking your attention from Simon. You looked back up at Simon, "Let me get my shoes - be right back." You quickly left and smiled at your father.

Your gather looked at Simon, his cheeks and smile disappearing. Your father looked at Simon for a moment before speaking. Simon felt silly for doing this. But he wanted this to be nice. He wanted this to be special. He wanted tho make you happy.

"You see the world differently, Simon. We see the world differently."

Slightly confused at his remarks, he watched as your father rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing several military tattoos. Simon looked at your father with a new found respect.

"Won't let her out of my sight, Sir."

You came back with your mother following closely behind her, both of you giggling. Simon and your father looked at you. You stood beside him and looked up at him with a bright smile, "Ready?"

---

A smile was plastered on your face the whole motorcycle ride - there was so much adrenaline and excitement. Your favorite part was when right before you left, he gave you his leather jacket to wear while he drove to the diner. You can't remember ever going this fast. Once you'd arrived to the diner, Simon helped you off the bike.

About to take the jacket off, Simon stopped you, "Leave it on."

Blushing slightly, you smiled softly. Before going into the diner, you took a hold of his hand. He looked down at your hand holding his, bewildered at the action, but more so as to how your hands were so soft and small compared to his rough and large ones. He didn't want you to let go.

He opened up the door of the diner and let you walk inside first. Throughout the night, Simon couldn't take his eyes off of you. The two off you sat in a booth at the back of the diner. You sat on the inside and he sat beside you, his body turned so that if covered you - shielding you - from the outside world. You kept his jacket on you. It kept you warm. It kept you shielding. It smelled like him. You wished you could stay like this forever.

By the time you'd left the restaurant, it was nearly midnight, Simon's arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walked out. About halfway back to his motorcycle, you heard whistles and cat calling.

"Ooooh what's a pretty lady like you doing out here." How the group of three men ignored Simon, you not him knew. They flocked towards you, making Simon hold you close to his body. You felt scared and felt his chest tighten. You briefly looked up at him, seeing his jaw tense up. But before any of the men could reach you, he quickly moved you behind his body, "Y/N, go back inside."

"But Simon-"

"Y/N- Go back inside."

Swallowing hard, you somewhat did as you were told. You did walk back to the diner, but stayed outside, watching as Simon attempted to de-escalate the situation. You noticed a considerable change in Simon when one of the men attempted to punch him.

Avoiding the punch, a switch flipped in Simon's mind, enraging him. Simon punched the first man back down to the ground. Barely being able to fight against the other two men. You yelled for him to stop, but too afraid to step in.

Seeing red, Simon finally was able to knock all three men down, wiping his bleeding nose and mouth, watching them as they groaned on the ground. He spit out blood filled drool and looked over at the diner.

He felt proud that he protected you, but he also felt ashamed. He didn't want you to see him like this. He wanted to keep his work away from you - and this was a glimpse of the world that he didn't want you to see.

But the way that he saw you running up to him, tears in your eyes, pleading at him to come inside to be cleaned up? Oh God Almighty did he want to leave everything to make sure you'd never shed a tear ever again.

"Simon." Your voice was trembling. You tried so hard to keep yourself from crying. You'd taken him into one of the bathrooms and one of the waitresses gave you a first-aid kit to clean him up.

Simon watched as you struggled to clean his face from blood, feeling ashamed, feeling dirty.

"Y/N, please look at me."

"Why?"

"Why are you crying?"

"I don't want you to get hurt..." It was almost a whisper. He almost didn't hear it.

Simon took a hold of your hands and held them against his face, "No one can ever hurt me, Y/N. Not when you're with me."

Before you could react, he let go one of your hands and placed it behind your head, gently pushing you towards his face. He gently kissed your lips. For a soldier, his lips were surprisingly soft - and you'd never imagined that your first kiss with Simon would be in a diner bathroom after a fight with three men.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat

#cod #call of duty #call of duty mw #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #fan fic #fan fiction #simon #riley #lieutenant simon riley #riley x reader #cod request #call of duty request #request

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lis-likes-fics · 7 months

Text

Say No to This

Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader, Original Male Character x Reader Word Count: 5.8k Kink: Table Sex Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, masturbation, mentions of death, Joel is mean, cheating, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, slight degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie... A/N: Sorry this was posted late today. I just finished it! That said, I will not be posting tomorrow but hopefully I will the day after. I can make no promises, but I hope you can stay patient with me. Thank you!

Joel's heavy boots echo off the walls around him as he opens the door to his apartment and steps inside. Ignoring the dirt trailing behind him, he kicks his shoes off at the door and sighs as he trudges into his dark house.

He stretches his arms above his head on the way to the bathroom, turning the shower on and grumbling when it never gets hot. Another lukewarm shower it is…

He huffs as he strips and stands under the water, letting it wet his hair and slide down his back. All the dirt and mud from working washes away, being rid of one stressful day to get ready for another.

Taking in another breath, he groans at the tension still resting in his body and shakes his head. He might as well do it now.

A sigh leaves his chest as he takes himself in his hand, his heavy cock resting his palm as he closes his eyes and rubs his thumb over the head. He strokes himself, too rough with himself in an attempt to finish himself off as quickly as possible so he can go to bed. He grunts as he gets closer to his release.

And then he hears the near pounding on his front door.

With a deep groan, he forces the water off and steps out of the shower with a towel around his waist.

"Joel," a voice said as another knock came to the door.

With a gruff frown, he pulls the door open and ignores the way water droplets fell from strands of his hair. He leans on the door frame and nearly glares as he lays eyes on you.

You're not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to the dirt trail on the floor, exhaustion clear in your face as you begin speaking. "Joel, I know it's the end of the world, but it doesn't have to look like it. Marcus and I just swept the walkways today and–"

You look up and are cut off by the sight in front of you. You nearly flush as your eyes fall on his towel around his waist, his chest dripping with water, his hair darker and just as drenched.

"Oh," you clear your throat, taking a step back as your gaze avoided the towel slack around his hips and the prominent V-line headed toward uncharted territory. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were busy…"

"No, please," he grunts. "What was so important that you had to come tell me at eleven at night instead of waitin' till morning?"

You scoff lightly. "Look, I was just coming to tell you that we don't live in a pigsty."

"We basically do."

"Will you–" you sigh. "Just stop leaving dirt on the floors, please. Goodnight."

He watches you walk away and suddenly notices what you're wearing. Your shirt is thin with little spaghetti straps and your shorts are basically decoration. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

You sigh and turn back around to face him as you raise a brow. You cross your arms over your chest. "They're called clothes."

He scoffs, "They're called scraps. You might as well be naked." He goes to close the door, but you stop him as you hold it open. He turns back to you expectantly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said," he continues, too frustrated to care about chivalry, "you might as well be naked. Does your little boyfriend know you came over here dressed like this?"

You lick your lip. "First off, why the fuck does it matter what I'm wearing? Second, he's my fiancé?"

"I'm just sayin'," he shrugs. "He's got a lot of trust in this place if he thinks someone ain't gonna snatch you up lookin' like that. 'Specially this late at night."

You smirk, frustrated as you lean on the doorframe. "Maybe he just trusts me to take care of myself."

He scoffs again, turning around to walk into his apartment. You follow after him, closing the door behind you with your foot.

"He's gonna have to, ain't he? He can't do it himself."

Your lips part as you tilt your head. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

His back is turned to you as he speaks, grabbing a cup to fill with water. "It means he can't take care of you. He doesn't do most of the jobs around here. It's a wonder he can afford anything. He's slow and soft, and he can't protect nothing and nobody."

You huff. When the outbreak happened, Marcus lost nearly his whole family to runners or the infection itself. After making it out alive with his baby sister, who was only six at the time, he lost her a year later. They'd finally made it to the QZ in Denver when the pandemic broke out there and took her. After that, he fell into a depression and he's been that way for years. Then he met you…

"You don't know anything about Marcus," you mumble.

"I know enough," he says.

You walk up to him quickly, shoving his shoulder to make him turn around and face you. "What's your fucking problem?" you ask, frowning at him and his insults.

"I ain't got no problem," he mumbles, taking a sip from his water and setting the cup down disinterestedly.

"Clearly, you do. So spit it out."

Frustrated and tired, he decided he would. He took the next couple of steps to get in your face, his body towering over yours as he stared down at you with a dark glare.

"Maybe my problem is you comin' in here complainin' to me about dirty floors in this shithouse while you coddle your little pet and yell at me about how hard he's got it while I'm just tryna go fuck myself and go to sleep."

You're speechless, your lips parted as you stare at him in shock. His hair is still dripping, tiny droplets of water dribbling onto you. You have all this space behind you, but it feels like he's backed you into a wall. He's staring at you like a hungry wolf would a rabbit that made him chase it.

You gasp when his lips crash down against yours and his hands hold your head to him. Your legs give out and you push him away, using more force than you thought you would have to pull apart.

"What the fuck?" you insist, wiping your mouth clean of his and feeling your heart beating against your ribs like a bird desperate to be out of its cage.

He's catching his breath as he watches you recuperate. "Felt different, huh?" he asks, his eyes dark with lust and something darker. "Better than kissin' that sap you call your fiancé?"

Your blood is boiling as you bite back, infuriated by his gall and frustrated with yourself for the way your legs trembled. "Don't you fucking dare," you point sharply. "I love him."

"Never said you didn't," he says, taking a few steps closer so he towers over you once more as he continues to stare at your lips. "Admit it… You want to know what it's like to be with a real man."

You shake your head, "You are not a real man."

He does the same, a dark smirk falling over his lips. "No… I'm much worse." And then he's on you again.

He's like a viper, his kiss venomous and sharp but so consuming you want more of his poison. It seeps into your skin and makes you burn. You want to remove it as fast as possible, be rid of the toxin that's infecting your body, but there's something so delicious about the burn. You can't help but want to wait it out, see how far it could go.

He attacks you as he pulls you close by your head and by your waist, locking you in and keeping you there. Even if you wanted to break free—which you do, of course, you do—you couldn't.

Joel's palms grip your ass tight as he backs you into the table, and you whimper against his lips. A dreadful feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, and you pretend it's fear as your legs go weak and you have to hold yourself up on his shoulders.

He is strong as you backs you into a table, and he is demanding as he finds your neck and begins to suck and bite at the skin. "Joel," you breathe. "No, you're gonna leave a mark."

He chuckles darkly. "That's what you're worried about? You're not gonna push me away?"

You'd forgotten fighting this was an option. You remember yourself and move to shove him away by his shoulder, but he hardly budges.

"It's too late now," he taunts. "I've already got you, and I got you willing."

He's on you again, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and insistent fingers on your waist. You peel them away from your skin as they ride up under your shirt, but he's determined.

"Joel," you sigh.

He pulls away from you to take your neck in his hand, not squeezing, just securing you as he makes you look at him.

"You and I both already know you don't want me to stop. When was the last you were fucked nice and hard, huh? When was the last time Marco took care of you?" he asks, and you huff at the fact he said his name wrong. He knows his name.

"I can take care of you," he breathes, his voice deep and dark. "I'll take good care of you…"

You stare at him wide-eyed and anticipating. You don't know what, but you're anticipating. He sighs and steps away from you, letting you go.

"But, by all means… if you wanna go, I'll give you ten good seconds to walk out that door. If you haven't crossed that threshold before then…you're mine, and I ain't lettin' you go."

You stand there, standing between him and the door at the other side of the room. He's started counting, a silent count in his head as he watches you debate. And you hate that you're debating.

You should turn around and leave, go to your fiancé and forget this night ever happened. Forget that Joel kissed you, and you were two steps away from being bent over his table and fucked.

You move, turning toward the door to leave after making the final decision in your silent contemplation.

Just as you breach the kitchen, Joel's fingers wrap around your upper arm and he's pulling you into his chest. His grin is almost primal, animalistic as he stares down at you. "Time's up."

He devours you, swallowing you whole as he bites and licks and sucks at any skin available to him. At first, you push him away and press your lips in a fine line. But as his lips keep kissing yours, as his hands grasp your flesh and his knee separates your thighs, you just decide…it's enough.

You kiss him back and condemn the dull fire in your chest still lit for Marcus. It kicks and flickers, but it's such a dying flame in comparison to the roaring blaze of Joel that you can feel it snuffing out.

You grip his arms and let it happen as he kisses you roughly. Joel grabs at your shirt, sliding his hands underneath to bring it over your head and off your body. He grunts, your lack of bra revealing your breasts instantly to see how they've peaked within the last few minutes. He picks you up, and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you on the table.

He dips his head down and kisses your chest, his tongue laving over the skin of your collarbone and his teeth grazing the flesh there to cover you in his marks, his claim. You sigh at the feeling of it, feeling your core throb when his hand comes up to grope your tit.

You arch your back into him, gasping when his lips wrap around your nipple and sucks. "Fuck," you choke, your hands holding his head to your chest.

He's so different from Marcus, his insistent kisses and bites are a stark contrast from your fiancé's tentative licks and pecks. He's so soft with you, gentle, afraid you'd shatter in his hands if he raised his voice above a whisper or held you tighter than he would fine china.

Joel is not like this. He doesn't care if you're frail or soft, he doesn't care if you're brittle as glass. He gropes and grabs and bites and sucks and uses you as he likes as his erection presses against your thigh. One of his hands is on your thigh, traveling under your soft and worn shorts to tease at the cotton of your panties.

You clench your thighs when he goes to pull your shorts from your legs, stopping his attempts and making his lips curl in a smile. Without pulling away from your chest, he places his hands on your thighs and pries them open. He pulls them down your legs, ignoring your nervous whimper as he does it.

He pulls back, looking down at your panties with an appreciative hum. He smooths his hand over your ass to feel them. "Don't find material this soft much anymore," he mutters. "You do somethin' for it?"

"Marcus traded some rations for them," you mumble. "It was my birthday…"

He chuckles again and kisses your breasts again. "Lucky me, gettin' to see 'em on you before they were ruined…"

"What…?"

He grabs the material and rips them off of you with a terrible snap. You feel your heart aching as he lifts the material to examine it before tossing it away indifferently.

"What the fu–"

He shuts you up with another kiss, one that steals your breath with its force and renders you absolutely speechless. "You look better without it anyway."

He keeps you distracted well enough, kissing you and sucking on you and marking you up like you don't already belong to someone else…

When his hand cups to bare cunt, you jolt, a tiny whimper escaping you when he presses his fingers between your folds. He curls his finger inside of you, scoffing when you clench around it. "You're so wet already. Is this all for me?"

You shake your head weakly, and he just raises his brow, pushing his finger in deeper and adding a second just to make you moan.

"No?" he hums. "You're thinkin' of your boy toy? Bet you're thinkin' of him walking in and seein' you with my fingers in your cunt. Do you think he'd forgive you?"

You think he'd die. You don't want to think about that…

Fortunately, Joel takes your mind off it as he starts pumping his fingers inside of you a little faster, collecting your arousal on his digits and curling them against that spongy spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back. You grip his biceps, sliding down to his wrist and deciding whether or not you're trying to pull him away or make him go faster as you guide his hand.

When his towel falls off, you have to convince yourself that it wasn't your own hand that did it as you find it already pressed against his hip.

He's hard and thick and you don't think you can take him. He's dripping precum, and it looks painful as it jerks, eager to be inside you as you clench around Joel's fingers again.

"Like what you see?" he smirks. "Much bigger than Mike, huh? But don't worry…" You shudder as he gets to his knees, spreading your legs even farther apart to fully display yourself to him. "...I'll get you nice and ready to take me."

He doesn't waste any time. As soon as the last word leaves his mouth, his mouth is on you. Your head falls back as your eyes close. You moan, wrapping your thighs around his head and grinding against his face. His nose presses against your clit as he licks his tongue inside of you, groaning at your addictive taste.

He grips your thighs to keep you where he has you. Your hand finds his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands and tugging as he sucks on your clit and laves his tongue through your folds. As he brings his fingers to your cunt again, he pushes two of them inside once more and massages them into you as only an expert could.

"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, trying to catch your breath as he keeps working his fingers in and out of you in a punishing pace as his tongue flicks and licks at your clit. You think you're going to explode, the twisting pleasure building in your belly and tensing in your thighs and stomach as he pushes you closer.

His thick fingers stretch you out as he fills you with them, and you keep clenching as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. You try to stave it off, even as your hips grind against his face, you try to keep control and refrain from giving in completely to Joel's terrible influence on your body. What about Marcus? The man you're promised to….

However, when the coil snaps, Marcus is not on your mind as you throw your head back and moan. Your brain is all foggy, and your body tingles with each little sensation. You're going to burst as he continues to suck on your clit through your release—and a little bit after that, too.

When you come down, squirming away from him and his mouth, he pulls away with a drunk smile. "You loved that, didn't you? I could tell." He stands and kisses you insistently—you can taste your pussy on his lips. His voice is low and gravely when he speaks again. "Bet you don't moan this loud when you're with him."

Your emotions are already running high, but that's making tears threaten to well in your eyes. He kisses you roughly again, grabbing you by the back of your head and tangling his fingers to guide you to kiss him a little deeper. He doesn't do it like he wants to make you kiss him, he does it like he craves the intimacy and just needs more of it.

You break apart when you feel his cock press against the inside of your thigh, hard and angry. He grunts lightly.

"You know…" he breathes, licking his lips, "I've always wanted to know what that mouth of yours could do."

You swallow thickly, sliding off the table slowly and moving almost lethargically as you prepare yourself to take this step. This is an entirely different step than him kissing you or him spreading your legs and eating you out. This is you getting to your knees to wrap your own lips around his cock.

And you do get to your knees and wrap your lips around his cock as you hold him with shaky hands. You close your eyes as you suckle gently around the tip of him before slowly allowing yourself to go a little farther. His eyes flutter and he grunts almost silently as his hand finds your hair. He doesn't guide you, at least not yet, letting you go at your own pace.

His tangled fingers stroke your scalp gently, and the sensations bloom through you too well. It's when he leads you down on his cock, making you take his cock a little farther inch by inch until he's down your throat and you can't breathe. You try not to panic, feeling your chest tighten with the lack of air as you Bob your head as much as you can.

He groans, rolling his hips into your face before pulling you away. You gasp and instantly choke on your breath a moment, coughing until you get yourself under control again. You take his cock in your hand and pump the length of it in your palm, squeezing here and licking there and ignoring how cock-drunk you probably look.

"Fuck," he sighs. "I shoulda done this sooner if it meant a mouth this good…"

He holds you down on his cock again and you sputter around him, your eyes watering as you swallow around him. Your jaw aches, and your mouth is beginning to water.

"I think you enjoy this, shit," he says. "You like suckin' me off, on your knees like a little whore." You can taste precum dribbling onto your tongue as his hips stutter against you. "Just like that."

He guides you as you bob your head and suckle and pleasure him like you really shouldn't be doing. You feel him throb and jerk in your mouth as he gets closer, and before he can spill onto your tongue, he grips your hair and pulls you off of him, gripping the base of his cock and squeezing his eyes shut with a heavy groan.

He curses under his breath as you catch your own, thankful for the reprieve.

"Get on the table," he commands. You move quicker than you should, standing to your feet and sliding onto the table with your legs closed.

Prying them apart once more, Joel stands between them and cups your neck with his hands. Your face is creased in a frown, even as he kisses you again and you respond in tandem. A tiny whimper slips through your lips.

What would Marcus do if he found out? What would you say? What could you say? The questions fluttered in your mind but you could do nothing to answer them, your focus stolen and muddled by Joel and his touch.

He pulls back and smiles at you. "You're thinkin' about him, aren't you? What he'll think, what he'll do? Bet you're feeling real guilty."

He kisses you again, biting your bottom lip. You shudder, "Please get it over with."

He shakes his head. "No, no, no," he mumbles. "Don't you pretend you don't want this. I know you do. You've been kissin' me back this whole time, holding your legs around my head, sucking on my cock like a good girl should." He licks his lip, staring at you and your watching eyes.

"I want you to beg me," he says in a low voice. "I want you to wrap your legs around me and beg me to give you what you want."

He's right, and you hate that he's right. You want so badly to leave and forget this ever happened but you're in way too deep, and you can't pretend you don't want him as much as you do. If you had your way, you would turn back time and never have shown up to his apartment. But you didn't have your way, and you couldn't turn back time. You're here, sitting on his kitchen table, your arousal leaking out onto the wood and his precum smearing against your inner thigh. You're here with the taste of him on your tongue and your lips swollen with his kisses.

And you wouldn't leave if he gave you another chance.

"Please," you start quietly, the word barely a word as you mumble it from your lips.

He shakes his head. "No, you're gonna do it right or you can stand up and leave right now."

And there's the out. There's him telling you that you can walk away and forget about this whole thing. This is him letting you go. This is him giving you another chance.

You tighten your legs around his waist and bring him to your face, your noses bumping. "Please, Joel. Fuck me like I want it. Please, I need it."

The look on his face shines with pride. "Alright, alright," he hums, his lips pressing against your neck and nudging your ear. He pulls you off the table just to grab your ass, squeezing it tight as his nails dig into your flesh. He groans, turning you around and bending you over the table. He uses his foot to knock your legs apart, spreading them farther and farther so you're nice and open for him.

You whimper when you feel his cock slide through your folds, teasing you as he coats himself in your slick. He whispers in your ear, and his voice is so slow that it echoes off your chest and has your legs shaking with anticipation. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that boy. How does that sound, honey?"

You whine breathily. "Please."

"There ya go," he breathes. He takes his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spreads your folds.

In one push, he buries himself to the hilt inside of your hot cunt. He bottoms out, groaning roughly as you clench around his cock and moan.

"Mm-fuck," you moan, burying your face in your arms as he presses his hips into your ass.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he huffs. "Maurice doesn't stretch you out as much as I do, does he?"

You shake your head, whimpering as he grinds deep inside of you. "N-No."

"No?" He pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in roughly, a surge of pleasure shocking through your system at the feeling of it as you let out a startled moan. "Does he fuck you as hard?"

He's building a pace, a rough, steady, quick pace that has you gripping the edge of the table. It's hard to stay quiet. "No."

"I didn't think so," he chuckles.

He grunts, his hips snapping into you as you cry out. You're a mess, entirely incoherently as you moan and whimper and mumble. You can feel the frustration he's taking out on you: the pent up stress, the internalized anger, all the lost sleep. He fucks you with the rage of a beast, his nails digging like claws into your hips as he does it.

"Ah– Fuck! Mm-yes, please," you cry out, your brain muddled. "D-don't stop, Joel, please!"

He keeps fucking you, relishing in the sound of his hips smacking against your slick skin, the sound of you practically wailing at the feeling of him fucking you so roughly.

"These walls're thin. You keep screamin' like that and someone's gonna walk in and see you," he says, smacking your ass once.

You don't let up, hardly even hearing him over the sound of the blood roaring in your ears. "Ahh, Joel," you beg. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

He smirks darkly. "Listen to you," he huffs, thrusting harder into you. "I'm beginning to think you wanna get caught. You want him to find you here, gettin' fucked by me like the little whore you are."

Your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the table so hard, but you cry for him and you beg for more, your fiancé far from your mind as you do. You chase the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you take all that he gives to you.

"Fuck, your little cunt's sucking me in so deep," he breathes.

Again, you moan his name. "Please let me cum. I needa cum. Joel, please."

"I love it when you moan my name like that, honey." He slides his hand up your back, carding his fingers through your hair before grasping a handful at the base of your head. You moan at the feeling, the gentle bite swarming your clouded mind. "Do it again."

He encourages you with another snap of his hips. "Joel," you cry. "Don't stop."

"Do it again."

You choke when he presses his finger to your clit. He doesn't rub or move, he just presses it there. Your thighs tremble, your knees are weak. "Joel, please."

And when he starts circling your clit in a fast, crazed paced, commanding you to say his name a third time, you gasp and tighten around his cock.

"Fuck, Joel!" He grunts at the feeling of you fluttering around him. "Oh, fuck, Joel. Yes, I'm gonna cum."

His pace is faltering, his rough thrusts becoming erratic as he groans a little more, the sound not as deep the closer he gets to his own sweet release.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts with each thrust. "I'm gonna cum inside-a you. Send you home drippin' with my cum, so you'll—fuck—you'll have to explain to your boy what happened tonight."

His grasp on your hair tightens. “You’ll have to tell him–mmh–how Joel-down-the-hall spread you open and ate out your pretty little pussy, how you got down to your knees and sucked his cock. Have to tell him how you begged me to fuck you nice and rough on the kitchen table till you were crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and grasp the edge of the table and mewl as you get closer and closer. His finger rubs insistently at your clit and his cock is twitching deep inside of you with the signs of his own release.

“Beg me to cum inside of you, honey.” He holds you down on a harsh thrust, a fire in your belly at the pleasure building there. “Beg me.”

“Please cum inside of me, Joel,” you gasp. “Please, please, cum in me. I need it. I need you.”

He bends over you, his front pressing against your back as he wraps his arm around you and fucks up into you. The coil in your belly snaps and you shout as you cum, your body tensing as you cry out his name. Your body is tingling with ecstasy, the eye-rolling pleasure crashing down on you in waves as you suck him into your cunt and squeeze.

“Oh, fuck, Joel! I’m cumming!” you tell him.

You feel the warmth spread in your belly as he spills inside of you, thrusting his hips against you and shoving his cock as deep as he’ll go. “There ya go, my good fucking girl. Cum on my cock, milk me like you want to.” His words break off into a broken moan.

You ride your highs for as long as they last, your minds cloudy and your bodies slowly becoming weak with the physical exertion. He grinds his cock inside of you a little more before pulling out, your mixed releases seeping from you and slipping down your thighs in a huge mess.

Joel sighs heavily, steadying himself and collecting his thoughts again before he picks up your ruined panties and starts wiping down your thighs but not your dripping cunt.

You lay limp on the table, spent and tired and so, so guilty, but also too fucked out to care. The realization is going to come crashing down soon though… The scary part is that you don’t know how much you’ll regret later when it does.

With the tension eased and his mind a little clearer, a bit of Joel's sympathy returns. A bit. He scoops your clothes off the floor and folds them up, setting them by your head on the table.

He lays his eyes on you and sighs. Your thighs are still shaking and your sighs are still little whimpers you can't hold in. He walks over to you, lightly smacking your side before wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you to stand. You moan as he does it, trying to steady yourself but relying on him to carry the weight you couldn't.

He brushes some hair stuck with sweat to your forehead. You look up at him, your eyelids heavy and almost sad. His nose bumps yours, and he kisses you. It's much different from all the others. It's gentle and soft and lets you keep up with him.

When he pulls away, his eyes stay closed a moment longer before he looks at you again. He sighs gently. "Go home to Marcus."

He says nothing else.

Joel lets go of you, looking you up and down thoughtfully. He picks up his towel before walking away from you and down the hall to his bedroom.

You let out a heavy breath, thinking over the night you'd just gone through. A shudder runs down your spine in remembrance of the forbidden bliss he'd given you, though your blood runs cold at what you had to do in order to reach that point. Marcus…

You dress yourself, tossing the ruined panties in the trash and bracing yourself as you step out of Joel's apartment to get to yours.

You step silently down the hall, opening your door and walking inside to close it just as silently behind you. You clean yourself up in the kitchen, deciding to simply throw away the rag now covered in sweat and cum.

And when you get to your bedroom, there's Marcus sleeping peacefully in your bed, entirely oblivious to what his fiancée had been up to all night…

Your lips press tentatively again Marcus' as you kiss him goodbye. He's off to work, one of the simpler jobs he attends often. As he turns to leave, waving at you with a warm smile, you return it as much as you can. When he's gone, you frown, letting that dreadful feeling wash over you as you rub your arm.

Your worst fears had come true: out of every emotion you're feeling over the situation you'd put yourself in, regret is not one of them. You feel guilty, yes, of course you do. You'd betrayed your partner's trust, a person who's only hope rests in you and your love for him. You feel so guilty about it that you could die.

But you don't regret what happened. Not like you should. Because you know you would do it again if the opportunity presented itself.

It felt so good. The tension and stress that you'd relieved last night, laying it all out bare on Joel's kitchen table as you let it all go…it was like nothing that Marcus had ever given—like nothing Marcus could give you. You love him, you do…but Joel was right, he couldn't give you what you needed.

And as you stand in the doorway thinking about it, you catch sight of Joel stepping out of his apartment, dressed in a worn button down and worn jeans and work boots. He looks up and locks eyes with you, more sober than he was last night as he takes you in.

You swallow thickly, folding your arms over your chest. You grab your door and open it a little wider and feel the heat pooling in your belly.

He considers your silent invitation. And once it's considered, he walks over and stops in front of you. Joel looks at the way you look up at him, watching him.

Licking your lips, you step to the side. He breathes the smallest chuckle, not smiling as he does it. Looking over you once more, he takes a step inside.

You turn your back to the door as you let him in…

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