#the old ones were going around and it was driving me insane

[bitethedevil]

The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 3

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Warning: NSFW, gore, and mention of suicide.

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.

(AN: The ending is really dark. Not dark in a "that's so sad"-way, more in a "wow that's...that's really fucked up"-way. Our devil really do be devil-ing in this one. I would not recommend reading to the end if you are squeamish. Also...This is my first attempt at writing smut, like ever, so again...bear with me.)

He took her to his bedroom. Despite the eagerness hidden in his dark eyes, he was in no hurry. He took his time stripping her off her clothes and placing kisses wherever he exposed her bare skin. He showered her with sweet words between kisses. She found herself getting completely lost in it.

He was not the egotistical lover that Tav might have expected him to be. He took his time to drive her to the edge of insanity before even touching her in the places she wanted him to. He leaned over her on the bed and kissed her with passion while his hand finally found its way to the part of her that was begging for him. He stroked between her folds gently with his fingers, making her moan in his mouth and buck her hips against him.

She was already almost dripping onto his expensive sheets when he started kissing his way down her chest. His tongue briefly swirling around each of her nipples, before continuing his trail of kisses down to between her legs.

He began eating her out in the same excruciatingly slow pace and it was pulling her apart. Her hips bucked against his mouth instinctively, desperate for more. He bit her inner thigh firmly at her impatience and held down her hips with his hands. However, he also heightened the intensity and pressure of his tongue, which almost sent her over the edge.

She whined as he stopped right before she reached her climax. He leaned over her again and kissed her once more. This time she could taste herself on his tongue, which only heightened her arousal. He ran his length up and down her folds a couple of times, coating it in her wetness before slowly entering her.

He broke the kiss and began moving into her in an unhurried pace. He looked into her eyes and spoke sweet words to her while he did. Whenever she looked away for a moment, he would bring her attention back to him. It was intensely intimate. She was completely lost in the moment of it.

It was so easy to forget what he truly was, with the way he treated her as if she was such a fragile and precious thing. He was so…human. She did not see the devil, but rather the man that she suspected had been hiding somewhere behind that cruel exterior she had gotten so used to on her adventure. She placed kisses on his neck and chest, which earned her even more sweet words and sounds from him. It felt like they were old lovers and they had known each other’s bodies for years.

“My sweet, sweet mouse,” he breathed in her ear and the pace of his thrusts became quicker. “Won’t you stay here? Run away from that cruel and judgmental world of yours. You would never want for anything…”

Her moans got louder as his pace quickened. She knew that it was a product of the situation, but in that moment, she wanted nothing more. To stay with him and listen to his sweet words, instead of going back to face her reality in Baldur’s Gate where there was only guilt and anxiety to be found.

“I can’t,” she breathed between moans.

“But you want to, don’t you? To be mine.” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes,” she admitted, being caught up in the moment.

She could feel Raphael smirking against her lips as his thrusts became faster and harder. She gasped and dug her nails into his back. Her eyes fluttered shut and a desperate moan escaped her lips as she came undone in his arms. Raphael’s climax followed shortly after.

He collapsed on the bed beside her and pulled her closer to him. He kissed her forehead sweetly after she laid her head on his chest. After Raphael had caught his breath and a few moments had passed, he tilted up her head to kiss her gently.

“As much as it pains me to leave your side, I have something I must attend to before going to bed,” he said in a low voice and got up from the bed to get dressed. “Rest now, dear.”

He got dressed and gave her cheek a brief caress before leaving the boudoir. She wanted to protest, but it was as he had cast a spell on her with his command that she should rest. She did suddenly feel extremely tired. Most likely, it was the alcohol that was making her drowsy, Tav thought.

She wondered briefly how much of all of this she would be regretting tomorrow when she would be completely sober. It was the last thing she thought before drifting away to a deep sleep.

Her consciousness perceived a couple of bizarre things during the night. The faint sound of screams, something being put around her wrists, Raphael laying down beside her, and Raphael leaving the bed. None of it was enough to truly shake her awake from her deep slumber. It felt more like odd dreams than anything else.

It was difficult to wake up in the morning. Tav could not remember the last time she had slept so deeply. She blinked slightly and looked around the room. Raphael was not in the bed beside her. She wondered how long she had slept for while rubbing her eyes.

When she removed her hands from her face, she caught a glimpse of something around her wrists. She blinked and raised her hands up to her face.

Thick metal cuffs with infernal lettering were around both of her wrists. Her sleepiness was gone in a second as she to her horror recognized the cuffs. Prince Orpheus had been chained with similar constructs.

She got up from the bed as fast as if it had been made of poisonous snakes and pulled on her clothes. She needed to get away and she needed to get away now. Perhaps, if she could make her way to the foyer with all the portals, she could escape somehow. She ran through the house as quietly and quickly as she could, hoping that she would not run into Raphael.

When she got to the large room where the dinner party had been the night before, she stopped in her tracks. Her hand instinctively clasped around her mouth so that she would not scream.

The guests from the day before, or at least parts of them, laid scattered all over the floor. There were blood and intestines everywhere. There were knives and sharp objects covered in blood. Some of the bodies were barely recognizable with the way they had been ripped apart. She noticed a decapitated hand that was still grasping around a knife. They had tried to defend themselves in their last moments to no avail, Tav thought with horror.

Tav jumped when she heard a wheeze. Someone was still breathing. She shakingly walked through the piles of corpses, trying to discern where the sound was coming from so she could help. As she searched, she noticed that the sound was coming from above her. She looked up. She could not keep herself quiet anymore as she started to sob.

It was Rolim. That cheerful and puppylike half-elf that had flirted with her at the party. He was somehow still alive and was looking back at her with a horrified expression. He looked as if he was trying to scream but nothing came out except wheezes. He was hanging on a hook that looked like it was lodged through his spine. Some of his skin had been peeled from his torso and was hanging loose. He had a knife in his hand that he was still flailing in the air, but it looked as if he could barely lift his arm anymore.

Tav broke down. How could she not have heard? She did hear but she did nothing. She could have done something if she had only gotten up when she thought she heard screams during the night. Why couldn’t she just have woken up?

“Tut-tut, mouse,” she heard from behind her. It made her blood run cold.

“Still blaming yourself for every suffering being you come across, I see,” Raphael said cooed behind her. “I assure you, there was nothing you could have done.”

She knew deep down that running would not get her very far, so she turned around to face him instead. There were tears staining her cheeks, but she put on the bravest face she could. Raphael was in his devil form. He was infuriatingly calm as he stood and observed at her.

“Why?” she asked quietly. “Why did you kill them?”

“I was simply claiming a few assets,” he said smoothly. “Taking over the Hells is such an expensive endeavor.”

Raphael walked closer to her, making her take a few steps back.

“Besides, I didn’t kill them. That would go against the terms of their contracts,” Raphael said as if the notion was offensive to him. “They did this to themselves and to each other...In fact...let me show you.”

He grabbed her by the arm and then forced her to look up at Rolim, by grabbing the back of her head and pointing it up towards him. She was forced to watch in horror as Rolim sliced more skin off his own chest with his shaking arm that was holding the knife. His mouth was wide open as if screaming, but still only a horrifying wheezing sound came out. Tav realized what Raphael said had been true. The guests had not been trying to defend themselves with the knives she saw scattered around on the floor. They had been slaughtering each other while under Raphael’s control.

“Kill him…please…” Tav pleaded and tried to turn her head, but Raphael’s grasp around the back of her neck was firm.

Rolim was mouthing something between the silent screams as he mutilated himself: Help. Help. Help…

“Are you sure?” Raphael purred against her ear.

Tav nodded as the tears ran down her cheeks.

“Very well. Anything for you, my dear,” Raphael said.

Raphael snapped his fingers, and a faint glow came over Rolim’s eyes for a moment as Raphael’s control took over him. Rolim raised the knife and thrusted it into his own chest without hesitation. The knife clattered to the floor and Rolim went limp.

Raphael loosened his grip on Tav, and she quickly moved away from him.

“How could you?” she said quietly before her tone turned to anger. “You lying bastard! Our contracted stated—”

“Our contract stated that I was not to use the Crown of Karsus to dominate a mortal, yes,” Raphael said loudly and spoke over her. “Do you see a crown on my head?”

Tav’s eyes darted around. She did not understand.

“I absorbed that power, took it for myself, ensuring that it would never escape my grasp again. As of now, the crown is nought more than a piece of metal collecting dust in the bowels of my archive.”

Tav couldn’t breathe. Her legs gave in under her and she fell to her knees.

This meant that she had doomed everyone. Raphael could do what he pleased with his new powers.

“And I could not have done it without you, my dearest mouse,” Raphael said cruelly.

She saw a knife on the ground not far from where she was sitting. She lunged after it, intending to end it all while she could. She grabbed the knife, but Raphael stepped on her hand, causing her to yelp out in pain.

“Oh, this will simply not do, my love,” he said and pressed his boot down harder on her hand, making her scream. “After all, you got everything you wished for did you not?”

He pulled her to her feet and held her close to him.

“It is such a shame that your dear little friends could not attend last night,” he said cruelly as he tightly gripped one of her hands and tapped a claw on the metal cuff around her wrist. “Though I suspect that they might be persuaded to pay us a visit yet. Let’s hope that they remember where they put that ‘bloody hammer’ of mine, was that not what you called it? Because without it, you will never leave this house.”

“Don’t you dare touch them, Raphael,” she said, her voice cracking. “Don’t you dare…Please, Raphael. Let me go home,”

“But you longed for this, didn’t you? To get away from all the guilt and anxiety. To forget and simply stay with me, far away from it all,” he said in a mock sympathetic voice as Tav was squirming to get out of his arms. “I read your thoughts. In fact, you wanted nothing more, is that not right?”

So it was true. He had been reading her thoughts the entire time. He knew exactly how to play her and what would make her fall into his arms, because he was inside her head the entire time.

“Let me go…” she cried.

“Oh, my sweet, it pains me to see you so upset,” he cooed with a cruel smile on his lips. “Especially when I am offering you everything you wished for. Do you not want to be happy?”

She did not answer but kept trying to escape his grasp. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Answer me,” he ordered.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Please—”

“Good,” he interrupted and snapped his fingers.

Her eyes glowed briefly just as Rolim’s did before. Her body stopped fighting and went limp. A sense of calm washed over her. The blood and gore around her disappeared. The last thing she remembered was waking in Raphael’s bed and seeing the cuffs around her wrists…She did not mind…They must have been a gift from Raphael…She was safe…She was with him…He was so beautiful in that form, Tav thought as she looked into his orange eyes that washed all her worries away.

She looked at him with a soft expression, taking in his features as if he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She smiled and put her hand on his cheek.

“Now, my dear,” he said with a charming smile while he held her around her waist. “Do you want to go home, or do you want to stay here?”

“I’d like to stay here…with you,” she said with a bright smile.

“Very good,” Raphael said a sweet condescending voice and kissed her forehead. “Your wish is my command, little mouse.”

#writing #raphael the cambion #Raphael x Tav #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[catierambles]

Blood Moon Ch.17

News of their engagement spread like wildfire through the rest of his family, Sy getting calls from his sisters-in-law the next day congratulating him along with his nieces and nephews (who were old enough to talk) being very excited that Annalisa was going to be their Aunt. She was a big hit with them, apparently. Annalisa got calls as well, having exchanged numbers with them the previous day during lunch. None of them mentioned or even hinted at their “conditions”, so either his brothers didn’t tell inform their wives (or ex-wife in the case of Jake), or they didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. It would have to be brought up eventually, as Annalisa had been correct, they would notice that she and Sy didn’t age as the children got older.

The idea that what made him turn furry also made him immortal was...something he'd unpack later, but the fact that it meant he would literally be spending forever with his Mate, and she wouldn’t watch her Tovaras age and die while she stayed the same, was a comfort.

“Hey, babe?” Sy said as he lounged in the couch in her office and she hummed in response, not looking up from her monitor. “Annalisa.”

“Yes?” She asked, catching his tone.

“What happens...what happens if a vampires’ Tovaras dies?” He asked, “You said that you knew Markus wasn’t because his death didn’t destroy you. What would’ve happened if he had been?”

“You sure you want to know?” She asked and he paused.

“Yeah.” He said finally.

“I’d die.” She said simply, “Not right away, but I...” She sighed, “I saw it happen once, a friend of mine, a member of my coven. His Tovaras, Daniel, died in a car accident before he had a chance to Turn him.”

“Okay.”

“David just...stopped. Everything. He stopped going out, he stopped talking to people, he stopped feeding. It wasn’t just grief, it wasn’t just him being depressed from losing his lover, he was...he was dead inside. We tried to help him, tried to get him to feed, getting him animal blood, human blood from donation drives run by vampires for those who don’t want to take from the source, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He starved to death.”

“Fuck.” Sy said with a sigh, running a hand over his face.

“We had him cremated and his ashes interred next to Daniels’.” She said, “If something happened to you, or if you were still human and refused to let me Turn you, I would suffer the same fate, but I wouldn’t care. You were gone, so I wouldn’t have any reason to live. I’d have died when you did, but my physical death would come later.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what would happen to me if you died.” Sy said and she sighed. “You know, don’t you.”

“Yeah, Kyle, I do. Wolves that lose their Mates go insane, go rabid, and need to be...put down, for their own sake and the safety of everyone around them.”

“Fuck.” He said again and she got up from her desk, going over to the couch and laying on him gently, her head on his chest and her hands holding his sides. He wrapped his arms around her immediately, holding her tight. “I’m not losin’ you. Never. And you’re never losin’ me."

"The rest of your family needs to be told about us." She said, "Preferably before the wedding."

"I know. I want my brothers there when it happens, so they can keep'em calm if one of them flips their shit about it."

"Pete called us monsters."

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. I'm not holdin' it against'im though, he was just worried about his babies."

"I've been called a lot of things over the years, "monster" isn't even in the top ten of the worst of it." She said and his hands rubbed over her back. "The coven will need to be notified of the engagement, as well."

"How's Eugene gonna take it? He gonna be a problem for us?"

"Most likely, but he'll just have to get over it."

“How do you feel about gettin’ married in a church?” He asked and she hummed.

“As long as holy water isn’t directly involved, I’ll be fine.”

“You good with crucifixes?”

“Jesus Christ was not the first, nor was he the last person to be crucified by the Roman Empire. It was basically their execution method of choice as it was brutal, highly public, and sent a message. Crucifixion was nothing special. If I had a reaction to that, I might as well have a reaction to guillotines or nooses. Besides, there are Muslim vampires, Hindu vampires, Jewish vampires, Agnostic and Atheist vampires, and it would make absolutely no sense for them to have a negative biological reaction to a symbol of a faith that they don’t adhere to.” She explained and he thought it over for a moment before making a small sound.

“Makes sense when you put it like that.” He agreed, “Why does holy water burn you, though?”

“I have a feeling that it’s less because it’s “holy” and more due to the belief of the priest that blessed it. They believe that it’s purifying, so it is. Their belief doesn’t work on crucifixes, though, because as I said, crucifixion wasn’t special or unique. There aren’t naturally occurring bodies of holy water.”

“And the whole silver thing? Ma has a silver candlestick that gave me one hell of a burn that I had to hide.”

“Allergy or sensitivity to silver is something that exists in humans. Whatever makes us us gives us that allergy cranked up to eleven. It’s why before the advent of modern mirrors, we had to avoid them. Not because we didn’t have a reflection, but because it was physically painful to be around them, like we were standing too close to an open fire. Modern mirrors don’t contain silver, so we’re good with those.”

“But the sun doesn’t hurt you.”

“Why would it?” She asked, looking up at him and he paused before giving a shrug.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #blood moon

[pocketbelt]

they announced one of the main writers for FFXIV: Dawntrail is the one who wrote the Shadowbringers trial series, "Sorrow of Werlyt", and the amount of people going "ew no that's the one that redeems Gaius" drives me kind of insane

That storyline takes Gaius and says "Behold this idiot, watch and be stunned as everything he ever said to anyone turned out to be fucking obviously wrong. Watch as the fascist imperialist philosophy he ingrained into his beloved children makes them run to their deaths, even as he pleads them not to, and they tell him to fuck himself and do it anyway. Marvel as he watches them die by your hand, you, who destroyed Gaius himself at the peak of his life, and he can do nothing to stop it", and that's a redemption arc to people

The only surviving kid only makes it because her brother acts to protect her, she doesn't make it because of any act of Gaius'

The entire story is literally "In case you somehow missed it in ARR and most of Stormblood, everything Gaius believed in was horseshit and there's no such thing as a 'noble general in the evil empire'". All his meritocracy bullshit vanished the second he was gone, no-one but his own children believed it or held onto it, and the empire put someone directly opposed to that belief into his old seat when he vanished. No-one cared, no-one else "believed", the Empire was never about that, it was only propped up in his own singular legion by him being there and the second he was gone the legion dumped it and moved on and only Gaius was too naive and stupid to see it.

I mean for fuck sake, the Empire digs up the chemical gas weapon he explicitly had sealed away and destroyed all record of after he's gone and if it wasn't for a particularly dedicated and enterprising catboy and his comedy crew of hardcore engineers, it would have caused the eighth apocalypse

Even the follow-up in patch 6.4, of the family portrait, isn't some "aw he good now" thing. The family portrait you help organise for him has to have four of its six members be projected onto the scene via a machine's reconstruction of them as normal people because they're dead, they threw their lives away because the ideology Gaius taught them meant they could only think to die fighting and nothing else. That's his loving family portrait: four ghosts stood at his back as his last living child smiles through her pain.

"well the people of Werlyt didn't kill him for conquering them" they let him clean up the mess he made (which meant watching his children be killed) and as "thanks" they're letting him stay there to live out the last third of his life or so attempting to atone by fixing the damage he did.

He's 56 at the time of ARR; the Empire he gave 3-4 decades of his life to is gone, it's a smouldering ruin, all but one of the people he loved is dead, his surviving daughter is scarred by the path he led her down, and what few friends he had are also dead. He learned that his beliefs were all horseshit and pretty much everyone around him except for himself knew it, he must live knowing that those beliefs got his children killed, all that he achieved that he once considered "good" was for nothing, he learned that the cool old emperor he idolised who had no magic but built an empire by pulling up his bootstraps and who told him that magic and gods were bad was actually an ancient incredibly magical sorceror attempting to resurrect his own god.

That's not a redemption arc, he's the most owned man still alive in XIV

#ffxiv #pocket post

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham

So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago

Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!

Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!

Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!

It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!

He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.

He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!

He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events

He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)

He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)

He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"

He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.

He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.

He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"

...

This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!

I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.

Later that night:

Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?

Batman: Wait wha-

...

Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!

Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?

Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.

Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)

#Dp x dc #Dpxdc #Dc #Dcu #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Old Man Danny #Crazy Old Man #Crazy Old Man Danny #Crazy Old Man Danny AU #Danny is the next in line for the Throne #He just needs to die #Not like he's in a hurry though #His friends can wait a few more decades in the afterlife #It was them who dared him to do this #Honestly it was a good idea #He had made so many new friends #Like The President #Danny is the old guy who :knows: people #Imagine the Crazy Old Man on the corner is actually Old drinking buddies with the President

[m0nsterqzzz]

Something Stupid

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary: and then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like...."I love you."

content: absolute teeth rotting fluff. pining for each other but wandas is much more intense? tiniest bit of blackhill if you squint.

a/n: had this idea for a while, and I actually kinda like it??? idk. first time for everything. reader is referred to as "sweets" like twice just because I love the nickname. it's what my boyfriend calls me. anyway. love yall!!

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Wanda Maximoff loves you.

She’s known that for years.

She’s known it since she first became an avenger and felt a strange urge to gain your forgiveness over everyone else's after what her and her late-brother Pietro did during the battle against Ultron.

She knew it when you became her best friend, teaching her how to control her magic and really just how to enjoy life.

She knew it when she had to watch as you got ready for dates with people that would never live up to your standards. Not she thought she would live up to your standards- no, she knew she couldn't- but she did know she treat you better then any of those no good pigs who are just looking for a fuck buddy ever good. The witch wouldn’t go up against your suitors though, just standing on the sidelines as her heart slowly breaks faster and faster the more you don’t see her in the same light you do them.

Little she did she know, she was the only one you truly wanted.

So finally, Wanda worked up the courage to ask you out so she no longer had to cry into her pillow while you were out sucking face with someone else.

Surprisingly, you agreed easily. The only thing you had to say was that she had to promise it wouldn’t change anything between you guys for the worse. If it didn’t work, you guys couldn’t become like Natasha and Maria. (those girls can’t be in the same room as each other for more than 2 seconds without making a backhanded comment about their four week long situationship)

The Maximoff girl agreed, eagerly setting up a dinner date.

It had quickly gone wrong.

The reservation was somehow not in the book despite the fact that Wanda called the fancy dinner place with insane prices about six times in the hour-long drive there. So you told her it was fine, that you’d be happy with some food from the delicious Thai place down the road as long as you were with her. But they were out of your favorite and Wanda ate so much that she felt ready to barf as you guys walked out of the restaurant- that was before she actually did barf in the parking lot. 

Finally, you guys headed to a bar near the Avengers tower for a quick nightcap, but that quickly turned into you both downing two drinks each before stumbling onto the dance floor.

A sweet looking old man who’s been reading a comic book in the corner sees you two and decides to put his own change in the jukebox and press play on a slow, but peaceful song. He sends you guys a smile, winking Wanda's way before he continues to read about some cool looking superheroes.

Wanda’s hands fall to your waist, gently gripping them as you both sway. Your head falls to lay on her shoulder, arms wrapped around the back of her neck as the music fills your ears. Her breath is on the back of your neck, warm, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of her lips as she places a gentle kiss in that same spot. 

Then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you, sweets.”

You roll your eyes, thinking back to how many times people have told you that during first dates just to get in your pants. Though you will admit that when you hear Wanda say it, it brings a small, warm, fluttering feeling to your chest, and you manage to let out a small giggle before you say, “No you don't. You don’t love me Wanda. You like me. There’s a difference.”

She fights the urge to tell you that she knows there is a difference between love and like. She knows that because she’s felt both those ways towards you. Why can’t you just understand that so she doesn’t have to find a way to put it into words?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

After a few days of her saying the same thing and you never believing her, the witch realizes she has to put it in words. Nothing else is capable of explaining how she feels about you. How she’s felt for so long.

So she recruits Natasha and Clint for help, and they spend the day working on some speeches. By 2pm, she has this;

“Are you from Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only ten-I-see.” - A line from Natasha which she used on Maria who was passing by at that moment just to prove to Wanda it works. (Natasha left and was found leaving the agents room an hour later. Apparently that’s back on)

“I love you.” - Clint Barton, the stupidest man on earth. There is a reason people call him bird brain. They were there because the three words are not enough to describe what she feels towards you. Did he even read what was on the brunch invitation? It clearly stated; “fixing Wanda's love life; no I love you’s, no magic town in which she controls so she can make Sweets fall in love with her against their will.”

“Hey, do you have wifi? Cuz I’m really feeling a connection.” - Natasha. She once again used it on Maria and was gone for another two hours. Can someone please address this?

“Start listing facts about the baby turtles you saved. Always gets the ladies.” - from Tony, who was walking by the living room and decided now was the best time to interrupt. He has never once gotten close enough to endangered animals to be able to ‘save’ them, but we can pretend if he wants too.

“Are you a beaver? Cuz dam.” - Natasha. (someone needs to restrain Maria from jumping the redheads bones. She is literally needed at this meeting.)

So, as we can see, no one is any help. 

She decides after that to just go with her gut, and her gut is telling her that you’ll know when the time is right, and hopefully will send her a sign.

Maybe the sign is sooner rather than later.

The witch spends about an hour in her bedroom in front of her mirror, trying on every outfit from sweats and a t-shirt to the 10,000 dollar dress Tony bought her for her birthday. Which clothes would draw your attention to her? She thinks about that alot, which is why she wears different outfits everyday simply in hopes of you sending her a small compliment. She always spends countless amounts of time planning the perfect outfit just to hear you say, “You look pretty Wans.”

Why is this happening to her?

It’s when she sets up a cute little picnic under the stars with all your favorite foods and snacks and a makeshift tv screen with a projector to watch your favorite film do you realize that you are deeply and utterly in love with Wanda Maximoff.

She’s sweet, and pretty. She can always make you laugh when you truly think you no longer can.

And besides all that, she’s your best friend. The one that will stick with you through thick and thin simply because she wants to be beside you.

You can’t help but feel your cheeks beginning to heat up every single time she even glances in your direction, let alone actually speak to you. You can feel your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves as she just… exists.

You don’t tell her that though, afraid of getting your feelings hurt.

You just sit down on the nice thick blanket with her, grabbing some grapes to give a few to her and a few to herself as she presses play on the movie. It’s silent other than the sound of the movie, but she can hear your thoughts louder than any film. It’s not like she’s trying to read your mind. The witch vowed to herself to never use her magic on you unless it was necessary or life saving. That includes mind reading. Your thoughts are too loud though, and even with the amount of control she has over her powers, they still fill her head as she tries to focus on the movie.

“I love her.”

“She says she loves you.”

“She doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes she does.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. I love her.”

Your internal battle on if she truly does love you or not breaks her heart into a million pieces, though she doesn’t want to call you out on it and make you feel uncomfortable. So you guys continue silently watching the movie. She doesn’t mention your loud thoughts, and you don’t mention that you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she stares.

When the movie is over and the projector turns off, you guys sit in the darkness of the night. There are stars dressing the night sky, so you silently look at them as Wanda turns on her side so she can gently pull you closer to her. 

The moment is perfect; looking up at the stars in each other's warm embrace, your back pressed against her front and she moves around until she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, so close to you that your perfume fills her senses and puts her into a peaceful bliss. Your truly happy as is she, and this time, as she says the tree words, you find yourself believing her;

“I love you.”

She doesn’t regret it or cringe out of embarrassment when she says it like she did last time. The witch just lets the words hang in the air. If you choose to say them back, you do. If not, at least you'll understand how much she truly means it.

“I love you.” You whisper back with new found confidence, and her chest fills with warmth and pure happiness. You finally believe her. Her words sounded so sincere and simple, not like the drunk words she said a few days ago. It’s the only reason you feel okay telling her the truth. You love Wanda Maximoff.

“I love you.” She mumbles, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

#Spotify #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel mcu

[milswrites]

I'll Crawl Home to You

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: After barely escaping his last mission, Azriel realizes he has one regret in life. Not telling you about the undying love which he held for you. His brush with death allowing him to realize that he can't live another day without you by his side, Azriel wastes no time in telling you exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Angst. Talks of death and injuries. Nice cute ending though :)

Azriel had always assumed that when the time came for death to greet him, he would welcome them like an old friend.

Gladly taking the specter's hand and allowing them to guide him to the afterlife, satisfied with the centuries of a blessed life he had been gifted by the Mother.

Azriel had never feared death. Instead he imagined that when the sweet embrace of darkness finally surrounded him, he would be able to rest at last. A mercy that he could finally be at peace, no worries crossing his mind as he knew that one day his brothers would also join him in whatever afterlife he was sent to.

Which is why he couldn't understand why he was panicking now as death's black cloak began to wrap around him. Rather than the warming comfort he had always imagined it would hold, the incoming blackness felt bitterly cold. Like his body had begun to freeze over like a lake in winter, the last dregs of his life being sucked from him.

Azriel found himself fighting back. His weak hand outstretched as he attempted to push away the approaching claws of death which were slowly advancing. Teeth grit together with effort as he tried to ward them off.

"No" the desperation in his hoarse voice was palpable, words catching in his throat as he flinched away from the foreboding figure of darkness. A painful spasm tearing through his body, originating from the wound on his chest where an unwelcome dagger had found its home.

"No i'm not ready yet please. Please don't take me . . . No please!"

His speech was slurred, vision dotted with masses of growing black spots. Yet Azriel didn't allow his hold on reality to slip for a single second. Not if it meant dying.

Not if it meant never seeing you again.

And so he resisted death's sweet siren song, too stubborn to allow himself to give in.

"I will not die today."

Azriel hissed the words through his pain. His fierce amber eyes meeting the cool sharp gaze of death's.

A gaze so intense that Azriel was sure it was enough to drive anyone to insanity. The well of darkness which swirled in death's icy orbs was never-ending. Azriel allowed himself to swim in them deeper and deeper, searching for a way to escape from their clutches. Following the glistening golden rope which shimmered enticingly, as though begging Azriel to take hold of it, promising that life would be at the other end of it.

It was agony. Sharp spikes of pain coursing through him as his limbs grew heaver and heavier the deeper he dived, skin beginning to burn and blister as a feverish sweat settled on his uncomfortable skin.

But Azriel didn't let up. Never lessening his grip on the golden rope. Allowing his memory of you to give him strength in the face of his adversity.

He never let go. Not even when death itself began to fight back.

Terrible visions of the horrors of his past appeared before him as he swam. Bubbles which contained the callous faces of his half-brothers floated by his face. Sinister smiles upon their lips as they stared at Azriel, deaths alluring voice slipping from their lips, "Come now Azriel, don't fight it. The rope leads to nothing. Let go. Close your eyes, I've got you. You can rest now."

Yet Azriel didn't look to the floating forms of his cruel brothers. He kept his stern gaze ahead, chasing after the end of the rope. Chasing after you.

It was almost as if you were there. If he squinted hard enough he could see your ethereal form at the end of the tunnel, a gentle hand held out for him to take.

It wasn't death. He knew that much. Your glowing figure radiated life, the promise of a future.

There at the end of the golden rope was you. Patiently waiting for him to greet you so you could return him to the land of the living. You were his salvation. You had come for him.

He allowed himself to become deaf to the enticing whispers of death. Continuing his pursuit forwards, towards you, leaving the dark memories of his past behind as he turned his full attention to swimming towards his future.

His scarred hand reaching out towards yours, the tips of his fingers brushing against your soft palm as he connected your hands. Entwining your fingers as he used the warmth you radiated as an anchor.

And then instead of darkness, there was only light.

~~~~~

Soft whispers stirred Azriel from his slumber. Through his closed eyelids, Azriel could see the sweet familiar orange glow of sunlight. The heat of which warmed his skin, energy flowing through his body as though the sun was replenishing his source. Enabling him to slowly flutter his eyes open, sight focusing on the blurred figure in the chair next to him.

Azriel rushed to sit up, Cassian's steady hands shooting out to stop his erratic movement, hushing the shadowsinger as he helped to rest him up against the pillows on the bed.

"Careful," Cassian grinned, pleased to see his brother awake, yet his smile did nothing to hide the concern which failed to leave his eyes, "you had us all worried for a moment there Az. We thought-" Cassian's voice broke as he swallowed back a cry, ". . . We thought we'd lot you."

"How did I get. . .? Y/N. She found me!"

Azriel struggled to put together the pieces of what happened after he was stabbed.

There was darkness, an impending sense of doom, and then a sudden burst of light. But there, somewhere in between his jumbled memories, Azriel had seen you. He was sure of it.

"Y/N?" Cassian questioned, brows furrowing in confusion as his concerned gaze swelled deeper, "They weren't there Az. You travelled here with your shadows. Gave me a fright, you appeared right in front of me covered in blood and barely breathing."

"No. . ." Azriel murmured, that couldn't have been right. He saw you. He was sure of it.

"They came to visit you a few times once Madja had you stable. Maybe you're thinking of that?" Cassian reasoned, trying to reassure himself more than Azriel, preying to the cauldron that his brother hadn't gone senile.

"Yeah" Azriel lied, flashing his brother a crooked smile to soothe his worries, "Yeah you're probably right."

No amount of convincing from his brother would allow Azriel to believe anything else other than the fact that you were there to save his life. To bring him home.

But if Cassian was somehow right . . . If you really hadn't been there. Then that meant Azriel had dreamt about you. This wasn't a new occurrence, there were many nights where Azriel welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep so only to see your smiling face in his dreams. Yet his mind, in what could have been his final moments alive, thought only of you.

Of your beauty and grace. Of your welcoming nature and the sense that in finding you, Azriel was home, even when death had came to claim his soul in the wilderness of Illyria.

He liked that. The knowledge that his home wasn't a place, but a person. That wherever he was, he need only to think of you and he can allow himself to be happy.

Though despite this realization, Azriel found that he couldn't be happy. Not when he had felt this strongly about you for years and had just almost died without confessing this to you.

Nausea crawled up his throat at the prospect that he had almost left this world without knowing if you felt the same way about him as he did you. Angry at himself for pining after you for so long and making no move to show you his the true nature of his emotions.

He had been a silent admirer. Yet Azriel found himself wanting to be silent no longer.

"Did you say they were here?" he rushed the words out, the intensity of his question causing the General to sit back in shock, "where are they now?"

"Uh, I think they went to their room for a bit. I told them I'd watch over you for a bit."

Azriel wasted no time in jumping up from underneath the covers. Having learnt firsthand how precious his time really was, he wouldn't allow himself to wait another second without telling you of his devotion.

So he ran, blind to the flash of pain which coursed from his still tender wound. Unable to feel the uncomfortable twinge in his chest due to the heavy pounding of his heart.

Azriel felt no nerves nor anxiety. He was driven by his need to speak to you. A confidence settling in his heart that this was right - that everything was happening the way it was supposed to.

Every step closer to your bedroom was a step closer to his home.

So consumed by his desire to see you, Azriel neglected to knock as he entered your room. Wild eyes searching your chambers until they finally landed on your shocked expression.

~~~~~

"Oh cauldron Az, you're alright!"

A cry of relief tore from your mouth, as you closed the distance between you and the male, gently throwing your arms around him, careful not to embrace him too tightly for fear of upsetting his wound.

But Azriel didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms. So he pulled you tighter and tighter to his chest, until he could feel the gentle beat of your heart alongside his own. Needing reassurance that you were real. That he really was alive.

Once you had basked in each other's presence for long enough you pulled away, hands clasping his biceps as you moved him back to allow yourself to cast your eyes over him, ensuring that the male was actually ok.

"Should you even be out of bed? Az you need to rest!"

You made to pull him towards your own bed so he could lie down, but Azriel stopped you, holding your hand tightly to prevent you from moving from where you were stood.

"I've rested long enough" he stated with a shake of his head, consuming gaze meeting your own.

"Azriel you almost died" you argued, amazed that the male was even standing.

"I think I did die" Azriel replied, his words being enough to silence you, silvery tears lining your eyes at the thought of you almost loosing the shadowsinger.

"I think" he repeated not wanting to confirm the words which he knew out of fear of upsetting you, "I saw them. Death. They wanted to take me but . . . I couldn't let them. So I fought back. I fought and fought until I saw you. You saved me Y/N."

"Me?" you gasped in disbelief. You had heard the tales of warriors who had narrowly escaped death, swearing that they had seen the gracious form of the Mother as they were brought back to life. Yet none of them ever claimed to see a person who was real.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you" he concluded. If it weren't for your captivating presence drawing him towards you Azriel would have drowned in the inky orbs of death.

"I couldn't" tears had now began to fall from Azriel's own eyes, silver pearls trailing down his cheeks, "I couldn't leave. Not without seeing you again. Not without saying goodbye. It's all I could think about."

A sob broke from your lips, amazed that Azriel's last thoughts before death were only of you.

"I didn't care how badly wounded I was" he spoke truthfully, hands still clinging onto yours as if they were a lifeline, "They could have stolen my wings. Taken my sanity. Broken my spirt. But none of that would have made a difference. None of that would stop me from crawling home to you. No amount of ropes and chains could hold me back, not when it meant seeing you on the other side."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming surge of love at the sincerity of his words. At the desperation which flooded in his eyes, begging you to believe him. Pleading for you to feel the same way.

"My love for you knows no bounds. Life or death, you are always with me, and I will never fail to find you" he promised. Certain that if he could conquer death with only the desire to be at your side, he would be able to fight anything.

"You did it Az" you beamed, hands dropping his only to come and rest on his dampened cheeks, "You came home to me. Our love transcends all worlds. Heaven, hell, purgatory, we'll find each other in every single one of them I promise. Because I am never letting you go again."

You couldn't. Not when you had already almost lost him. You would never lose Azriel again. Yet you could be happy with the thought, that if the situation were to ever happen again, that you could be his guiding beacon. Leading Azriel back to you. Leading him back home.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

[cranberryjuice-posts]

a Clarisse la rue x reader where the reader is blind? it seems good? I just like your writing so I accept any plot you make on top of it

YIPEE‼️‼️

Love is driving me a bit insane

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Child of Aphrodite! Blind! Reader

An - You not the shit bitch You not even the fart‼️‼️‼️

Clarisse knew she had liked you more than a friend since the first time you Met. Ok sure she’ll admit at first she though you were weak for the simple fact you were blind- normally you wore a pair of feminine Prada sunglasses which complimented your skin tone and hair unnaturally well, aswell as adding a sense of beauty to your appearance. which was why it wasn’t a shock when you were claimed my Aphrodite.

Your cabin had been placed on her team for capture the flag. Clarisse at first was annoyed with this since she didn’t know where to place you however after you proved your strengths with your siren like charm speak she fell in love. That and the fact silenas constant battering for her to admit her feelings may or may not of helped

—

Since then clarisse had made it her mission to be around you as much as she could. You enjoyed the attention of the daughter of ares which ended with you two becoming close.

You noticed Alot of things, like how you noticed how strong the bond-fire was in-front of you.. You also noticed when you were close to clarisse, how fidgety she got it was especially noticeable how quiet she got.. you found it cute.

You faced towards clarisse reaching your hand out to grab her arm. The daughter of ares jumped. “Yes what do you need” she almost to quickly responded. You gave a small laugh. “I want some water, if you don’t mind” you flirted.

Clarisse immediately  stood up running off to get you a drink. You laughed to yourself as you heard her yell at different kids stressing about something simple like a water.

People thought they were sly and you were dumb, that just because you couldn’t see somehow that also meant you couldn’t hear.

“She’s a freak i mean have you seen her charm speak— it’s like a monster”

“I bet clarisse just hangs out with her out of pitty”

“Oh definitely she probably only wears those sunglasses because she has ugly eyes, I wonder why Aphrodite even claimed her”

“I know i wouldn’t of”

You gripped your walking stick with anger trying to calm down. “Ok I found a Fiji water from one of your sisters but I also have sparkling thanks to the Hermes cabin and oh! There’s also a—“

“I want to go back to my cabin” You harshly spoke trying to keep the tears at bay. Clarisse set the waters down before crouching infront of you, she touched you knee softly rubbing it. You could feel her harsh stare trying to figure out what was wrong. “Now please” You whispered.

“Yeah.. Yeah ok” she responded.. once back at the cabin you found your way to a bed you assumed was yours before lying down. You hated how people assumed shit about you just because you were blind, at least try to be creative about the insults.

———

The following day went as planned. You went to the straw berry feilds and picked some of the fruit, read some with a few brail books gifted to you by Chiron and walking around camp enjoying yourself.

Clarisse soon found you sitting on a bench laughing with your sister silena. The brighter girl looked over and mouthed a ‘ask her out’ to clarisse. She laughed at the girls embarrassed reaction before leaving.

“Silena?” You asked while tapping your index on the table an old nervous habit.

“No no it’s me” clarisse spoke up, she was flustered in the fact that silena had dipped on you two. You smiled once you realized who it was. “It’s my favorite daughter of ares huh”

“Oh you have favorites now?”

“Yeah but make-sure not to tell anyone else” you chuckled with the other girl.

Clasisse noticed immediately, the way your shoulders hanged and the sense of insecurity in your voice. “You ok?” She asked leaning over on the table while gently touching your hand.

You dismissed her by nodding. “Yeah im Fine don’t worry about it”

the daughter of ares however didn’t buy it. “Liar”

“Narcissistic”

Your little back and forth game was one you both enjoyed.. you sighed and took off your glasses allowing clarisse to see your rare eyes, they shined like pearls in the sunlight. “Some girls I heard.. they were saying some uh fucked ip shit about me” You started while fiddling with your hands. “But uh they said that you only hangout with me out of pity..Is that true”

While you would of never knew you had made eyecontact with the woman infront of you. Clarisse grabbed your hands unexpectedly which made you jump slightly.

“Your a fucking dumbass if you think that’s true” she scoffed, Clarisse brought your hand to her lips before softly kissing your knuckles. “Everytime I talk to you it’s like Cupid is messing with me, you should of told me what those girls were saying and I would of defended you”

You had to take a minute before softly laughing with a flustered face. “Clarisse? Are you confessing to me right now”

Clarisse reached forward tucking a stray of your hair away “I guess I am” she mumbled.

“Guess I should to hm?”

You trailed your hands from the girls palms up her arms and to her shoulders, you placed your arms around her neck before leaning in to kiss her.

Clarisse while shocked kissed back, she was embarrassed as being new to the whole love thing — her kissing skills being evident of that.

Once you two had eventually pulled away but kept your faces close you were able to finally hear silena who was now cheering in the background.. and was that Charlie.

“OH my gods silena!” Clarisse yelled.

“Really?” You questioned sarcastically. Your sister from what you could tell just continued to laugh.

You faced back to clarisse and shook your head. “Just ignore her” You softly spoke before kissing her again

Feminism‼️‼️

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #butch clarisse #clarisse is a lesbian #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse my beloved #clarisse larue #clarisse x reader #clarisse x you #pjo #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson

[cheriskindaclueless]

N.H.I.E ---- ౨ৎ 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾ℴ𝓁ℴ

---- ౨ৎ matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

✩ cw ---- smut, cockwarming, (p) in (v), slightly sub!matt if you squint, sex in public, exhibitionist kink, mentions of alcohol, partying, mentions of underage drinking, profanity

✩ synopsis ---- based on 'n.h.i.e' by 21 savage + doja cat

"she sits on the wood, no splinters"

0.9k words.

"stay quiet for me," matt mumbled, biting down hard on his lip. his hands guided along your hips in a slow, sensual movement.

the two of you are sat on an old couch at the back of the party. flashing colored lights illuminating matt's accentuated features as you cautiously brought yourself down on his hips. locking your thighs tightly around his waist as you adjust to his size in harsh silence.

his hands slide around to your ass, pulling the hem of your dress in an attempt to hide what ungodly thing you were doing in a room with 100s of people.

both of you are drunk out of your mind, and matt was getting so handsy. you just couldn't hold yourself together as you watched the tightening of his pants.

you sucked in a hissed breath as you bottomed out, biting your lip in forced silence. "fuck, matt." you whispered, dropping your head on his shoulder.

"she sits on the wood, no splinters"

he hummed softly in response, fingers trailing circles near the hem of your dress. your lips were slightly parted as you took a moment to pull yourself together. it took everything in you not to move right then, but you would inevitably blow your cover.

biting down on his collarbone in an attempt to contain yourself, matt lets out a soft groan. only loud enough for you to hear, barely audible in the room full of head-pounding music and slightly underaged adults.

matts hands trail back around to your hips. his eyes meeting yours as he rolls his tongue in his cheek. "move for me, baby." he whispered softly. his voice beginning to become ragged as he becomes restless underneath you. you were simply sitting on his dick, no friction at all, and it was driving him fucking insane.

you slowly started to grind down against him. small movements so you don't attract any drifting eyes. your hands begin sliding under his shirt, rings getting caught on the black cotton.

he's quick to get a rise out of the way you sway back and forth to the music playing around you. each swift movement in sync with colorful but slower song.

matt drops his head back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on his lip. the both of you were practically losing your minds, feeling like puddles under each others touch. "fuck baby," he whines, his hands guiding your hips in various directions.

"id make you submissive"

you could tell from the way his cock twitched helplessly inside you that he was getting close. and undeniably you were as well. you felt and probably looked like a mess, but you could care less. all you wanted was to let yourself go without making a scene. but the way his breath was catching and his attempt to keep quiet was failing, was enough for several pairs of eyes to land on you.

"baby," you moaned, leaning closer to him and pressing your lips against his. "people are staring." your kiss was sloppy as you could barely keep your breath in line, but you wanted the taste of his tongue to stay with yours forever.

he groans against your lips, "don't care," his kiss was hungry and passionate as he bit down on your skin. eliciting a whiney moan to escape your throat. "makin me feel so good."

one of his hands releases its grasp on your waist, and slides down between your thighs. harshly rubbing a finger over your throbbing clit to help you get to your climax faster.

you absentmindedly moaned against his tongue, loud enough for anyone paying attention to hear. but you just pray that the music drowns your lewd noises out. "matt-" you gasped, the knot in your stomach tightening.

"cum for me, ma," he groans, picking up the pace on your clit.

his words are enough to finish you off, and you bite down on his lip to stifle your final moan. he's quick to follow you, releasing his seed into your seeping cunt.

you don't move for several long seconds, catching your breath against his neck. your panting low and short against his skin.

౨ৎ ---- cher

#cher-writes౨ৎ #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic

[exhaslo]

OMG HI IM BACK I HOPE UR HYDRATED

FAST AND FURIOUS MIGUEL AND READER WHERE THEY’RE RIDE OR DIE, STREET RACING WHERE MIGGY WINS AND GETS HIS PRIZE IN THE BACKSEAT OF HIS OLD 2000s MODELED SUZUKI ?????

NEVER WATCHED A SINGLE FAST AND FURIOUS

BUT I'M NEVER ONE TO BACK DOWN ON A GOOD OL' BACKSEAT RIDE OR DIE CAR SEX HAHAHA

Sorry this was so late to be posted. I'm still backed up with requests from last month!

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, car sex, fingering

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was never a dull moment in the city of Nueva York. Every street had something to offer, no matter the time of day. From the sunrise to even past the sunset. There was a reason why this city was given the name, 'The city that never sleeps'.

Amongst its citizens was you. A lovely night owl, just gearing up to be entertained by your fantastic boyfriend. Honestly, this was something that you had never thought of as entertaining. Car racing in the middle of the city was what kept you up most nights...

But Miguel showed you otherwise.

That man was going to drive you insane. When you first met him, you swore that all he cared about was his car. He treated it more like a woman than you sometimes, but...you opened up to his point of view. You saw how much Miguel cared about both you and his night life activities.

That, and he was goddamn hot when working on his 'baby'. Miguel was a mechanic during the day and one of the best street racers at night. You on the other hand just worked a normal office job; however, you easily became one of the most popular flag girls for the race.

"Amor (love), are you trying to temp me before the race?" Miguel said with a low hum as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You felt your cheeks fluster as Miguel pressed you against the wall. His kisses against the back of your neck were sweet and hungry. With a soft press of his hips, you felt Miguel's erection right into your booty shorts.

"Miguel, this is what the other flag girls told me to wear," You said with a soft whine, turning around in his grip, "They mentioned something about a special prize I'll be offering."

"Hn," Miguel grunted lowly as he glanced at the time, "Whatever prize it maybe, this body is only meant for me to see."

"Haha, they're just booty shorts. I haven't worn something like this in such a long time."

"And the tight tank top?" Miguel rested his head by your breasts, inhaling deeply, "Ay dios mio (oh my god), I better win this race and fast so I can tend to you."

You chuckled at Miguel's possessiveness. Pecking his lips, you stroked his cheeks, rubbing against the small gruff he had growing. Miguel pouted and quickly went to clean and shave. Sometimes he forgot about himself when he worked.

Once ready, you scooted yourself into Miguel's passenger seat. Miguel leaned over to land a deep kiss against your lips before driving off to the event sight.

You remembered the first time he let you in his, 'baby'. You were confused as to why he took so much care of an old 2000s Suzuki. Miguel gave you quite a story when he explained everything in detail. How even the smallest mod could change the way he drives.

There were a lot of do's and don'ts in his car too. You followed them since you knew how much Miguel cared about his car. Glancing at his backseat, you wondered what Miguel was working on there. He had been making some changes and improvements that always left you curious.

"Alright, make sure you wave that flag extra high for me when I win," Miguel said with a low chuckle as you got out of his car.

"Hopefully the prize is just as good."

"I could always use some more parts," Miguel hummed and winked towards you before driving off to the others.

You smiled brightly as you hurried to the other girls. This was going to be a first for you. Taking part in Miguel's hobby made you happy. The other girls giggled towards you as led you to the starting line. Everyone cheered once you all arrived.

"Shake that ass!!" Some of the men in the crowd cheered.

You felt your face burn up and looked around for Miguel. Once you found him, you giggled towards the glare he gave to the crowd. This was probably going to be the last time you became a flag girl. Miguel was far too possessive of you to have men drool.

"Alriiiiight, who's ready for tonight's race?!" The announcer yelled out, followed by a wave of cheers, "We got a special prize today! Been a while since we've gotten a new flag girl, so you all know what this means!"

"Trophy! Trophy! Trophy!"

"Thaaaaat's right! (Y/N) will be the delicious trophy for today's prize! Here that racers! You get a special night with our lovely (Y/N)!"

You felt your face pale as you tried to ask the other girls what the announcer meant. They all just smiled and reassured you that it was fun and no harm done. You knew better. Staring at Miguel, you frowned as you saw the scorn on his face.

Miguel hurriedly got in his car and revved up the engine. You trusted Miguel, so you had faith that he was going to win, but if he didn't...Miguel might end up fighting someone.

-------

Miguel was beyond furious. He knew that some of these races got a little out of hand, but to use you as a prize? Cussing lowly as he gripped the wheel, Miguel slammed the gas petal once the flag was raised. He refused to let anyone else have you.

Hearing another engine rev, Miguel hissed as he saw his main competition catch up to him. The nerve! Gripping onto the stick shift, Miguel just smirked as he decided to go full out. He had to show these people that he was number one for a goddamn reason!

-------

You were shaking in your seat as you watched the race from one of the monitors. Biting your thumb, you nearly whimpered as some of the other racers came a little too close to Miguel. Miguel was still far in the lead, but it didn't stop you from worrying.

After another few go arounds, you gasped in awe as Miguel took the victory once again. Unable to contain your excitement, you rushed over to your boyfriend as the announcer cheered him on.

"Are you ready for you-Oh, hey, wait! We're not done!"

You were giggling to yourself as Miguel carried you with in and threw you in his car before driving off. Glancing back at the annoyed announcer, you cheered and wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck from the back seat.

"I was so worried! No one told me I was going to be the prize!" You said with a soft whine. Miguel kissed your hand as he drove to a remote spot,

"Neither did I, babe. I wasn't going to let anyone win." He grumbled as he parked, "But, since I did. I should claim my prize."

You raised a brow before laughing as Miguel made his way to the backseat. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as you gave him light kisses around his face. Miguel hummed in response before licking your lips.

You parted your lips for him, moaning softly as Miguel ravished your mouth with his tongue. His hands roaming your upper body, slowly sliding your top off. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold AC from the car hit your exposed nipples.

"Are you sure you want to do it here?" You asked, humming softly as Miguel kissed your neck.

"Made sure its comfortable," Was all he said as he started to rub your clit through your pants, "But, can't make a mess in here."

You whimpered in response, arching your back as Miguel licked your breasts. His tongue swirling around your nipple as his rough movements against your clit made you tremble. You grabbed onto his arms, trying to balance yourself as you moved your hips.

Miguel grunted in response as he undid your shorts, throwing them on the ground. He proceeded to bite and suck against your nipples while his fingers went under your panties and circled against your sensitive bud.

"M-Mig~"

"So wet already for me." Miguel chuckled as you moaned, "If you make a mess in my car baby, I'll have to punish you."

"I-I won't." You whimpered, tugging against his arms.

You shuddered in pleasure as Miguel moved his fingers down to your cunt. It was hard for you to move since Miguel's body was pressing you into his seat. Another whimper of a moan escaped your lips as you felt him play with your folds before slowly entering a finger into your pussy.

"Miguel~" You cried out, throwing your head back.

Your moans grew louder as you felt your loving boyfriend pump his thick digits into your core. His tongue still against your breasts, sucking against them. You body was burning up, shaking and ready to burst...but you couldn't make a mess.

Part of you wanted to cum all over his seat and take the punishment, but the other part of you was enjoying Miguel's game. Gasping as Miguel entered another finger, you moaned loudly as he curled his fingers into your gummy core.

You finally burst when you felt his fingers press against your sweet spot. Crying out his name, you panted softly as Miguel pulled his fingers out. His smirk was wide as he licked his fingers clean, holding your hips up.

"Good girl, keeping my baby clean." He said with a low chuckle.

"Mhpm," You nodded and trembled as Miguel slowly pressed his tip inside your hole, "M-Miguel~"

"You're doing so good." He hummed, slowly pushing himself deeper inside you, "Always taking me in so well."

"Mig~ Miguel~" You cried out, feeling him fill you.

You squirmed in place, clenching against Miguel's dick as he furthered entered you. You could never get over the feeling of Miguel splitting you open, filling you to the very brim. His dick always bruising your cervix, giving you a reason to stay in bed for days.

"That's my girl," Miguel hummed as he sat his dick nice and deep inside of you.

You whined in response, reaching out for Miguel to move. He kissed your hands once more before starting his ruthless charade of thrusts. You cried and moaned as the car shook under you. Miguel's cock was slamming into your wet cunt, claiming you as his.

Arching your back as Miguel bullied his cock into you, you cried out a series of moans as you felt your orgasm approach again. Miguel held your hips, slapping himself into you. The sounds of your bodies echoing throughout the small car.

"Keep it in, baby. No messes," Miguel grunted as you came again.

You gasped and shuddered as Miguel changed positions, placing you on top of his lap. His grip was tight on your ass as he made you bounce against his cock. Pressing your chest against his, you whined as Miguel gave you his first load of cum..

"Good girl," Miguel hummed. You rested your head against his chest, your pussy sucking his cock dry,

"D-Don't bully me too much," You whimpered. Miguel stroked your cheek, kissing you deeply,

"I'm just claiming my beautiful prize," He teased, holding your hips as you started bouncing on him again, "Maybe we can make this an every victory reward?"

"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes~" You moaned, panting heavily as you felt drawn into pleasure, "I-I'll reward you....for each win~"

"And if I lose?" Miguel asked, pinching your clit. You cried, cumming against him once more on the spot,

"T-Then...I'll ah~....mhm...c-console you."

"Awe, what did I do to deserve you?" Miguel chuckled, pressing you against his seat before pounding you from behind, "I'll reward you too, baby. You did cheer me on."

"Yes~ Yes!" You cried as Miguel bottomed out inside you, "M-Miguel~" You whimpered.

Miguel chuckled as he pulled out, using his fingers to keep his cum inside your abused cunt. You shivered in response and whined as Miguel put your clothes back on.

"No messes. Keep me inside." He whispered in your ear. You shivered in response and nodded,

"...So...When's the next race?"

"In an hour."

Your face turned bright red as Miguel roared in laughter. He kissed you once more before returning to the driver's seat, making his way back to the event sight. You behaved and sat in the back seat, anticipating his upcoming win.

You just had to make sure not to make a mess in his car.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {1}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: A little crack!fic as a driver!reader who is Max's little half-sister. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, sibling antics, daddy issues. WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

There was nothing that irked you more than being called a Verstappen. Yes, you were Max’s sister, but that was where the relationship with the name ended. Your sperm donor, as you publicly referred to Jos, had never been a part of your life and that was one blessing you were thankful for. 

Somehow the bastard's genetics had won and that stupid racer’s blood ran in your veins. You liked to go fast. Your mother said that you could run before you could walk and the same went for driving. At 17 years old you had your super licence before your drivers licence, making it legal to drive at 200 mph around a circuit with insane corners but not 30 mph on the street.

Something about that seemed…odd.

It was worth it in the end. You could still remember the look on Jos’ face when you signed for Alpha Tauri. Oh, how the bastard had tried to credit himself with your achievement. But there were more similarities that you shared with your half sibling than you were willing to admit. One of those shared traits was brutal honesty. And you had let your honest thoughts fly when Jos opened his mouth.

Three years later the sperm donor was still bitter. He would surely have to get used to it, especially since you had just been named as a Red Bull driver, alongside Max.

Round One - Bahrain 2022 “This is a historical first, siblings racing together on the same team,” Ted Kravitz said as he walked along the pit, stopping outside Red Bull’s garage. “The two Verstappen's will be fighting each other for the Driver Championship, once again, while simultaneously working together to win the Constructors Championship. A very, very exciting season ahead I can already tell.”

You had been pulling your helmet on, about to climb into the RB18 when you heard the comment. The short temper you were well known for flared and you sauntered into the pit lane. “Hey, Ted Crapitz,” you called out as he stood writing in that little notepad of his.

He looked up a little stunned and his eyes darted at the camera that was always following him around. “It’s, uh, Kravitz.”

“Oh, my apologies, I thought it was just normal to make up offensive surnames. No?” you asked as you arched an eyebrow at him. “Because Verstappen isn’t mine, so don’t ever call me that again.”

“S-sorry, my mistake,” he stammered, but you were already shoving your helmet on and grabbing the halo to climb into your car. “A bit of a slap on the wrist for me there.”

You had no doubt that the video would go viral and the comments would call you a bitch but you didn’t care. Jos was a piece of shit and your mother didn’t raise you all on her own, working two jobs to pay for your karting years, just for you to be called a fucking Verstappen.

There was no better feeling than pulling out of the garage and heading to the track. The finely tuned car purred beneath you and you could feel the restrained power of it just waiting for you to pass the pit marker so you could push the throttle and free the beast you had worked hard to control.

“Radio check,” your engineer, Nicholas, ordered through the headset.

“Tell big bro to keep his mouth closed during the race. It can’t be healthy to eat my dust.” 

“Understood.”

The jeroboam size bottle of Ferrari Trento looked enormous in your hands as you shook it up and sprayed Charles and Carlos back after drenching you first. You may have been on the bottom step of the podium but you celebrated as if you had taken 1st place. Turning the bottle on the crowd, you spotted Max at the front with a wide grin on his face as he cheered with the rest of Red Bull. 

It was a little disappointing that he had DNF’d but there was always next week to battle it out again. In the meantime you enjoyed the adrenaline of the podium finish and the image of Jos standing to the side with a face like a slapped ass. It was a feeling you could definitely get used to.

Round Eleven - Great Britain 2022 The leaderboard changed almost every week, flipping like hotcakes between you and Max. It was labelled as sibling rivalry, and for once the media got it right. Though you hadn’t grown up with Max there was an innate need to know who was better, who could push the limits harder and who could get away with it. Some weeks it was you, some weeks it wasn’t. It was all part of the fun. 

Fun. Now that was something that came in spades. The camaraderie that came with the competitiveness was always something you enjoyed moving up from F3 and F2 before reaching F1. With only 19 other people sharing the same experience with you, it was impossible not to grow close to them. 

“Can you let Max in front today?” Lando asked as you walked along the grid. “Please?”

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because he’d rather look at your ass than Max’s, if he can hold third place.” You turned to the other McLaren driver to see a grin splitting the Australian’s face. 

“Aww, Lando, the real English gentleman,” you tutted sarcastically as you pulled your balaclava off your shoulder and snickered when it slapped Lando across the back of his head.

“Unnecessary violence, Spitfire,” he gasped before muttering under his breath, “I know who you get that from.”

A growl pulled back your lips and you punched him none too softly in the bicep, which was a double edged sword because it was far harder than you were expecting and you felt the hit in your knuckles. 

“Oh, Lando, Lando, Lando,” Daniel chuckled as he walked off to his car. “When are you going to learn?”

“You know the car goes faster with less weight,” Lando said as he rubbed his arm.

“Yeah, so?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “All that baggage you carry is weighing you down.”

“Well, that’s just stupid, metaphors weigh nothing...” You pulled your balaclava over your face as you walked from the second row to the front where the two Red Bulls were parked side by side. 

“Hey Lan,” you called out as you turned back with the urge to lighten the mood after he had looked crestfallen. “Don’t get too excited when I warm up my tires, that’s not me shaking my ass for you.”

You could see the corners of his eyes wrinkle with a smile that was hidden by the balaclava he pulled on. “A lad can dream, Spitfire.”

You had earned the nickname of Spitfire from dog-fighting your way to the front of the pack and it was one you were proud of, it certainly beat being called a bitch day in and day out. 

“Just keep it to your dreams, yeah? I’m already paying too much for therapy.”

“You can talk about your daddy issues later,” Max interrupted, tossing your helmet into your waiting hands. “Get in your car, zusje.”

You grinned to yourself as the formation lap began and you started weaving across the track to warm your tires. All Lando would be able to think about was your ass as the rear wing swayed side to side and the thought of made you laugh since you lived to torment the guys on and off the track.

“Radio check.”

“I can’t wait to show everyone the upgrades.”

“Understood.” There was a pause before Nicholas returned. “Uh, you weren’t scheduled for any upgrades.”

Your start was terrible as Max flew away at lights out and then you were nearly clipped in the first turn by Lando, the swerve you took to avoid a collision letting Charles slip straight past.

“DRS activated this lap.”

You passed the starting line on the heels of Charles, Lando close behind but not close enough to use DRS just yet. The Ferrari was quick but he was out of Max’s DRS range and your straight line speed was far superior, it was only a matter of time before you reached the first DRS zone and made your move to overtake. 

“Did you just use indicators?”

You laughed as you hit the buttons on your console before pulling out of the slipstream, the rear wing opened to reduce the drag, and flew past the red car. You hit the new button the electrical engineer had rewired before pulling in front of Charles and laughed as you saw the replay on the big screens around the circuit.

“It’s only polite to indicate when overtaking. Have you never read the road code?”

“I’m more worried about the FIA regulations than the road code.”

“You worry too much, Christian can afford a little fine.”

“£150,000 for a laugh! Are you taking the mick outta me?”

You tried to keep a serious face as you faced Christian but one look at Max’s amusement had a smile cracking through. 

“No, you don’t get to laugh about this,” Christian snapped, pulling your attention back to him. “You too, Max. It’s like having a couple of fucking children around here.”

“It was nothing to do with me,” Max argued. “I would never pull a stunt like that.”

“You have something on your nose,” you said as you pointed and he wiped at it. “Nope, still brown.”

His lip twitched before he snickered and playfully shoved your shoulder. 

A heavy sigh of disappointment filled the private room in the motorhome and you both looked at Christian. “With Max winning last year we are going to be under even more scrutiny, and this sort of behaviour isn’t going to earn us any favours. Cut the shit out and pay the fucking fine.”

You started to open your mouth to point out the fine was charged to Red Bull not you but a sharp elbow from Max had you clamming your lips closed again. 

“She’ll be better behaved,” Max promised with a glare that warned you to stay silent to save yourself from lying.

“Fine, get out there before the interviews are finished.”

You were never a fan of the post-race interviews but you left Christian’s office like it was lights out, racing ahead of Max to get to the media pit. 

You skidded to a halt at the side of the stage and Charles patted the empty space between him and Lando just as Max arrived. The other space on the couch was at the end beside Lance and you looked at Max with narrowed eyes before making a break for the better seat. Lando had to jump aside as you slammed into the seat just before Max but it didn’t stop him from planting himself on top and you groaned at the weight.

“Second place again, Max Emillian,” you wheezed as you tried to push him off and looked at Charles. “A little help?”

“Sorry, there are universal rules: we can’t interfere with sibling rivalries,” he said with an apologetic smile.

“Arthur’s my favourite Leclerc.”

Max took full advantage while you were distracted, staring daggers at Charles, and shoved you aside to take the cushioned seat with a smarmy grin. “Remember, best behaviour,” he warned as he got comfortable and accepted the microphone handed to you.

He should have known that the challenge couldn’t go unanswered and so you stood up, but you weren’t admitting defeat. His smile fell when you sat down on Lando’s lap, much to everyone’s surprise. 

“Hands off my sister, Norris,” Max quipped, but Lando’s hands were still in the air from where he froze, not knowing what to do with them or where to put them.

“This is quite comfy,” you noted as you wriggled around. “Maybe this can be my spot every week.”

“Fuck, fine,” Max growled as he stood up and walked down the line to sit with Lance. “Take the fucking seat.”

Charles laughed as you slipped into the seat and he held his fist out. “Everytime.”

You bumped his fist and smirked as the interviews finally got underway. “Every damn time.”

Click here for part two.

#crack!fic #Max Verstappen x reader #sibling!reader #platonic!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

[gracieheartspedro]

Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 

-

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

-

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?” 

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

-

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing. 

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 

You kind of scared yourself. 

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #gracieheartspedro

[dr-qian]

break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1 , pt.3

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

---------------------------------------------------

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

---------------------------------------------------

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

---------------------------------------------------

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

#nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #nct scenarios #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct 127 mark #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct dream mark #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #nct dream #nct 127 #nct u

[lovingmattysposts]

Mustang

"we'd make out in your mustang to radio head"

"Never thought that one day, i'd be losing you"

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: It was hard for you to be back in Boston, because Boston brought back memories you tried so hard to forget. You missed what you had here, you missed who you had here. And he was everywhere and you missed him so bad.

warnings: sooo much fluff but really sad, cursing, sadness, mentions of being turned on?? but thats the only suggestive part

i wrote this literally based on my life because I drive a mustang and love matthew sturniolo so I hope you love it too

xoxo, Autumn

I sighed as I dropped my bag into my old room, before collapsing into the bed.

I hated being home from college, but I also didn't it was a weird divide between my brain. It's filled with great memories, but also sad ones.

It just mainly make me think of the triplets, well mainly Matt. We were all really close in high school, but once I went of to college in MaryLand and they moved to L.A we drifted apart. Well that wasn't the first time.

We started to drift apart when Matt and I broke up. Neither of us took the break up well at all. We were both miserable. Obviously Nick and Chris, wanted to be their for their brother so they weren't there for me as much as I would hope.

Which now looking back it was a absolute insane thing to get angry over, it's their brother, they were going to support him no matter what. But i was young and I was hurt so I took my emotions from the breakup and pushed it on Nick and Chris for not being there for me.

The breakup was mutual, and not in the oh-he-broke-up-with-me-and-im-too-embarrassed-to-admit-it "mutual breakup". No, it was genuinally mutual. We both were in love deeply with one another and neither of us wanted to breakup at all.

One stupid fight over how we were going to work coast-to-coast and that was it. It was weird really. A really weird feeling when one minute you're in love and the next minute one stupid fight and it makes everything change.

We were just two scared teenagers who were too prideful to admit they were scared to lose one another to life. Living without Matt was a hard thing to grasp, because I never thought there would be a time where we weren't together.

I guess I got over it or at least tried to when I went off to college. I went on dates, kissed a few boys, even hooked up with one. But there was always a voice in the back of my head screaming "they aren't Matt"

It was weird kind of breakup. After the final goodbye that night, we never spoke again. Even living in the same city for three months after that until I went of to college and he moved to LA, we didn't speak once. And we hadn't in three years.

I forced myself not to check what he was doing, literally throwing my phone across my dorm room, just so I wouldn't check. It was hard since his entire life was online. Mine wasn't. It was easy for him to forget. It wasn't for me.

It really is hard to remember what their lips feel like when you kiss them for the last time and don't even know it.

Even three years after the breakup, every time I come to Boston I think of him. There were picture of him and I still plastered on my photo wall in my bedroom, I still haven't gotten the courage to take them down. I still had one of his shirts that was tucked away in my "stay home clothes" and I haven't taken it out since.

I especially think of him when I'm driving around in my Mustang. Since I didn't register it to my college, I left it at home along with all of the memories inside of it that I think of every time I get behind the wheel of that damn Mustang.

I just needed to go on a drive. To clear my head and to get my mind off my high school boyfriend. I stood up walking out of my brother and mumbling a quick bye to my parents and walking outside to the cold air.

I took my keys out of my sweatshirt and unlocked the car, pulling on the handle but pausing as I felt a memory wash over me.

-

"Matt" I giggled trying to push him off of me. He smiled against my neck and attempted to pin my arms down. "Whattt?" He smiled as his lips attached to my neck and then up to my face, kissing me softly.

I put my hands on his face as we kissed slowly, before pushing him back slightly. He was fully leaned over the entire middle consul, on top of me.

"Matt we have to go inside" I smiled looking at my boyfriend as he smiled stupidly at me, looking only down at my lips as I spoke. "Hmm hm" He hummed finally looking up at my eyes, his eyelids hooded. I don't know if it was from how early it was or from the kiss.

"Did you hear a word I said?" I giggled. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. "Nope" He smiled against my lips catching mine in a kiss again. I smiled as we kissed, as if it were the first time we had ever kissed. Butterflies filling my stomach as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against me, as we kissed.

I knew really believed in love before I met Matthew Sturniolo. I thought the books were stupid, the movies were unrealistic, and the couples in love around us were just going to end up hurt or cheated on. Because that was all I had ever known, that was before a blue eyes lacrosse player passed me in the hallway and we made eye-contact for a little too long.

I never believed in love at first sight either until that day. I thought it was cheesy, and terribly inaccurate, but something inside of me told me that boy would be in my life for a longgg time.

He pulled away from the kiss and brought his hands up to my face, rubbing his thumbs back and forth against my cheeks smiling down at me in adoration.

I never saw myself as a romantic either. Kind of kept to myself, was sarcastic and thought I would die before talking to a man in a baby voice, and a part of me thinks everyone thinks that way before they find their first love. Well in this case, the love of my life. There wouldn't be a minute for the rest of my life where I didn't love Matt.

"I love you" He whispered, leaning down and kissing my nose, making me giggle. He sighed leaning down against my shoulder and running his hand over my steering wheel. "And I love your car" he sighed, making me roll my eyes. "Sometimes I feel like you only like me for my car" I joked making him lift his head and furrow his eyebrows.

"What no, you're the love of my life. The car is just a plus to dating you" He said shaking his head. It was embarrassing the effect his words had on my physical being. I blushed, making him smile.

"I like when I make you blush" He smiled leaning down and kissing me again. The other plus to dating Matt, other than simply everything about him, was his lips. Oh my God, his lips. They were perfect and boy did that boy know how to kiss.

I honestly didn't know kissing someone was suppose to be enjoyable before kissing him. I could fall asleep kissing him. If my lips could be on his ever second of everyday, they would be. He quite literally changed my world.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, making me hum against him deepening the kiss. He smiled as he kissed me harder. There was a hard knock against my window, causing Matt to jump off of me, due to the loud noise. He looked behind me, since my back was against the door. He sighed and sat back in the passenger seat.

I turned around seeing his brothers standing next to my car. I rolled down the window and they both leaned down poking their heads into the car.

"Jesus do you two ever come up for air?" Chris said looking between us making me smile and look down at my lap. "Seriously the whole school yard just saw you two suffocating each other with your mouths" Nick shook his head. Matt laughed and shook his head, looking over at me.

"I'm getting your windows tinted for Christmas" He said shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nick and Chris. "Do you guys need something?" I asked looking between two of my best friends. "Yeah dumbass, School's about to start" Chris said motioning to everyone walking inside.

"But it's coldd outside, and it's so warm in here" I sighed, leaning towards Matt. Matt pouted looking at his brothers and wrapped his arms around me.

"If you miss another class, you're benched at the next game Matthew" his brother said unimpressed. Matt sighed letting me go. I leaned back up in my seat.

I looked over to Matt who looked at me and then to his brothers. "Yeah yeah, just give us a minute" He said leaning over and starting to roll up the window, making me shake my head.

"You two are gross!" Nick yelled as he walked away. "Her lips will still be there after first period Matt!" Chris yelled as the window close. I laughed and shook my head, before Matt turned my head capturing my lips in his again. I fell into the kiss again so easily before pushing him slightly.

"Matt, we have to go. I can't miss first period again" I sighed as I looked into his blue eyes. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine" He breathed leaning back over, grabbing his bag off the floor in front of me. I giggled at his frustrated demeanour.

"Wait" I smiled making him look up as I reached over grabbing his shirt connecting our lips again. He smiled against me as he dropped his bag again, bringing his hand up to cup my face again. I pulled away as he kissed me deeper.

"Okay, Okay, we have to go" I said shaking my head, trying to shake the redness in my face. I turned off the car and grabbed my keys.

"Wait, we have to wait a second" He breathed making me glance over at him as he groaned leaning his head back against the chair, attempting to adjust his shorts. I looked down noticing the tent in his pants.

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?" I said raising my eyebrows. He glanced over at me, smirking. "I can't help what you do to be y/n" he laughed. I shook my head smiling and looked out the window.

He was going to be the death of me.

-

I shook my head, dropping my smile at the memory and climbed into my car, turning it on and immediatley turning on the heat to wipe away the goosebumps on my legs.

I sighed as I pulled out of my house and pulled out onto the road. Clear my head. Just clear my head. But everything about this car screamed Matt.

I looked over at the empty passenger seat and sighed. Physically seeing Matt there in my mind, but he wasn't. He was thousands of miles away not thinking about me.

As i drove around my empty town, playing song after song trying to make myself feel better, made it worse. I felt pathetic. Thinking about my ex-boyfriend of three years ago, wasn't good. Why was I still thinking about him.

I tried to convince myself it was just because I was here in Boston, in this car, but another part of my brain reminded me that I promised to him and to myself that I would always love him. I hated myself because I stuck to my word. That's why I didn't reach out after the breakup, because I said that if was better if we both just tried to move on. That we had to move on and we wouldn't if we were still in contact.

It's when he agreed to it was when the reality of my words set into me like a ton of bricks. The amount of times I wanted to show up at his front door step, telling him I was wrong. That I couldn't live without him. That we were stupid for ever thinking our breakup was what we both needed. But I never did, and he never showed up at my door either.

I guess a part of me moved on, or maybe my brain just convinced me that I did. I don't feel like I did, because there was never another Matt. All these boys i've met, it was hard to even picture them to be the same species as Matthew Sturniolo, because they were cold, hard, mean, assholes. Matt was sweet, kind, loving, and tender hearted. To put them in the same category as him would just be an insult to Matt.

So I waited until someone like Matthew Sturniolo came along. I've waited three years and I've not met one other soul like him. It wasn't fair.

I sighed. I needed to go home, take a hot shower, and stop torturing myself. I pulled around, driving back towards my house, trying to erase every single thing i've thought about on this long miserable drive. Once I stepped out of this car, I wasn't going to think about him again.

I was going to turn off this car and open the door and leave all my feelings and hopes for Matt inside of it because It wasn't fair to myself. I needed to let go.

I turned into my neighborhood and pulled up to my driveway, driving in. I parked the car and took a deep breathe, rubbing my hands over my face. I sighed, turning off the car and opening the door.

If it was meant to be it will be, at least that's what the poets say. But then again aren't all poets just people writing about what they think love is? Not the actual reality of it? They don't write about the breakups or the hard times, they talk about the falling. The feeling of being in love. Something so strong it could kill a person, that part I guess now I believed to be true. So maybe all poets are idiots.

I swallowed shaking my thoughts before opening my door and stepping out before looking back inside, and taking a deep breath closing my eyes before I shut it finally.

That was it. Now those were just memories. That's all they can be and thats all i'll allow them to be. From here on out I wasn't going to tourtue myself. From here on out not one more thought would cross my brain thinking about-

I froze.

"Matt?"

Standing there.

Right there.

In front of me.

My feet froze.

He stood tall in front of me, black hoodie, black pants and small scruff lining his jawline. His eyes as blue as ever and his hair still as floppy as I remembered, just a little longer. I blinked, frozen in time. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would have collaspted right then and there.

"Y/n" He spoke finally. My lips parted slightly as I stood in front of the boy that I loved all those years ago. The boy I just spent the last hour killing my mind over.

He licked his lips looking down at me with an expression I couldn't understand. "W-What are you doing here?" I breathed, barley blinking staring up at him. He let out a breath as he looked at me pulling his hands out of the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"I-I was in town and I-" I stopped as he looked down at me. I stared up at him waiting for his explanation. "I don't know I just kind of came over here. I didn't really have a plan. I don't know what to say, but I just started walking and I ended up here" He breathed, seeing his breath come out in a vapor in the coldness of the air around us. Making it real. He was there.

I blinked at him. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it, not knowing what to say. I honestly wanted to look up at the sky and wish for a million dollars and see if that would come walking up to my house too. But no. This was more of a shock than if that happened.

"I know-" He shook his head. "I know this is probably a lot for you, and I can leave if you don't want to see me and I know that showing up here after three years is so shitty so I understand if-" He spoke but I cut him off stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, leaning my head against his chest, holding him tightly. This was real.

I let out a breath for what felt like the first time in three years. He paused for a second, suprized from the sudden embrace, before wrapping his arms around me just as tightly, leaning his head against the top of mine. I closed my eyes thinking If i ever let go he would dissapear and I would wake up from my dream.

"Matt" I breathed again. He let out a deep breath. "Y/n" He stated again. We sat there for a long time, just holding each other like speaking three years worth of words, without actually talking.

I pulled back looking up at him. He smiled down at me, tears in his eyes and tears in mine.

"How's LA?" I smiled, my eyes full of tears. He chuckled hanging his head breifly before looking back up at me. "It's not Boston" He shook his head. I chuckled, wiping the bottom of my eyes. I nodded just smiling up at him.

"I missed you" He shook his head, biting his lips as it quivered due to the tears threatening to spill. I shook my head looking down as I let out a breath. I leaned up wiping his tears with my thumb.

"I missed you sweet boy" I whispered as a tear ran down my face. He reached up, wiping it. I swallowed.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He whispered smiling through his tears. I laughed handing my head before shaking it. He smiled. "Thank God" He breathed before leaning down and kissing me passionatly. I smiled as we kissed, tasting the tears between us.

He reached down wrapping his hands under my waist pulling our bodies together as I held his face in my hands. I couldn't believe this was real. His lips were exactly how I remembered, as If not a single day had passed between us.

I pulled back, but didn't move away from him, as I looked into his eyes, soothing his cheek.

"I miss you too" I breathed, he smiled. I laughed through my tears, leaning my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and we sat there.

All of the sudden a car came racing up to my house, before slamming on the breaks. I looked up at Matt, who sighed closing his eyes. I turned as I heard the slamming of car doors.

Nick and Chris emerged from the car before sighing when they saw us. Matt's grip didn't loosen on me, like if he let go he'd be afraid I would run away. Little did he know I wasn't moving away from him even if he pushed me off of him.

"Matt you scared the shit out of us" Chris shook his head as he walked up to us. I looked up at Matt, who didn't look fazed by his brothers whatsoever. I looked back seeing Nick coming around the otherside of the car.

"Thank God you're okay" Chris said making it up to us. Nick walked over. "You can't just take off and not tell us where you're going without your phone" Nick shook his head.

"Guys i'm fine" Matt reassured them. He looked down at me. "I'm better than fine" He whispered looking down at me in his arms. I smiled up at him.

"We thought you'd be here" Nick sighed looking over at us. I smiled looking over at Nick and Chris. They looked like them, but older. Kind of like Matt. Chris's hair was longer and Nick was blonde.

I smiled leaning my head against Matt, both of our arms still wrapped in one another. Nick sighed shaking his head.

"Alright, you guys will still be alive when you let go. Now y/n come over here and give me a hug" Nick smiled. I looked up at Matt smiling before finally dropping my arms and walking over to Nick, hugging him. He sighed against me.

"Missed you" He mumbled. "I miss you guys so much" I said looking over to Chris before opening my arms in offer for him to join the hug. He rolled his eyes smiling before joining Nick and I.

"Missed you kid" He mumbled squeezing us.

"Alright. Alright, get off her" Matt said walking up to us, before pulling me against him again. I laughed and shook my head at him. Still now, he only wanted me to himself and I could have melted.

"Will you come home now? Mom hasn't seen you yet" Chris shook his head. Matt let out a breath before looking down at me. I smiled up at him.

"Yeah, but there's something we have to do first" He explained looking up at his brothers. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at Matt. He looked towards the car.

"Can we go for a drive?"

I looked over at my mustang before smiling up at him. "Please?" I said letting out a breath. He smiled, leaning down and kissing my forehead. He grabbed my hand as he pulled me towards the car.

WOW I LITERALLY CRIED MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS. hope you guys did too🥹

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @ejswift @paper-crab @mwah0mwah @ghostgurlswrld @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @jjslovely

#chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #Spotify

[macfrog]

if i had a gun cowboy like me chapter 12.5 (joel's pov)

long-awaited, pain-packed, and sealed with a bow by yours truly. i love y'all. thank you for being so patient and kind with me on this one. this chapter is joel's experience of the end of illicit affairs and all of hits different. you might wanna check those chapters out before you indulge in the angst-fest that is this one. hope you enjoy 🧡

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: walk a mile in joel miller's shoes. see if you'd do anything different

warnings: more heartache, more angst, lois, alcohol + drug consumption, mention of reader being roofied, very brief mention of joel punching knox, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 9.8k

terrible news! there is no more taglist! make sure you're following @macfroglets w notifs on if you wanna be buzzed when i post 🤍

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.” It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks – “Where is she?” “We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –” “’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

You’re still fast asleep when he lifts his head.

You’ve had this argument plenty before. I do not snore. Yes, baby, you do. I’ve heard you. I don’t! It’s alright, it’s okay that you do. It’s a cute snore. Joel, I don’t fucking –

Right now, he’s pretty certain you’re snoring. He just wishes you were awake to hear yourself.

He thinks about pulling his phone, taking a video so that once you’re up, you can hear the little bursts of air, the tiny rasps from your nostrils as you snooze. But if he ever did record anything like that – just like the Hillcrest pictures, until you’d found them last night – he’d keep it for himself. Wouldn’t offer it up so easily.

Just something for him to have, for all the time he spends without you.

Your hair’s still all over the place. Tangled in Joel’s right arm, still smelling of chlorine and sex. Your head rests softly on the crook of his elbow like it’s a pillow; your lips and eyes are puffy, tired. You have this ridiculously strong vice grip on his left arm; during the night he felt you wrap your wrists around it and pull it into your chest, tucking it gently under your chin until your entire upper half was drowned in his.

His chest snug against your back, his arms encasing you safely, and his hips…his hips lined with yours. His now semi-hard cock buried between your legs – he’d slept inside you last night, and it was like, after forty-eight years, someone finally took him by the shoulders and said: This is how you do it. This is how you rest.

He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, soon as his eyes fell shut. He stirred only to feel you maneuvering his arm, and then fell straight back asleep.

He felt comfortable. He felt safe. Big, old, tough guy Joel Miller. Never let anybody in since Sarah’s mom left. Alone for almost seventeen years, and fine with it. His cheeks heat at the idea of needing – of wanting to feel that. Safe. But then you came along, and he realized he’d been waiting his whole life to feel it. Didn’t even notice he’d been missing it.

That’s how these things go, right? Can’t miss what you don’t have, and all that.

But now he has it. Now he has you.

And you make him feel things he’s never felt before, or if he has, it was so fucking long ago that he’s forgotten. You drive him fucking insane. Keep him up at night, wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into. Make him do stuff that his reflection glares at him over. Are you being serious right now? Make him…different. New.

The night before last, when he’d picked you up from Frank’s after rodeo night, he promised to make you a big breakfast in the morning. Compensation for not swinging by McDonald’s on the way home. But then your dad called, and you had to take off before Joel had even properly woken up.

When he eventually rose from the bed, he went straight to the store. Stocked up on eggs, flour, sugar, bananas. He’d printed a recipe from his computer while you were gone. Marked the items off as he meandered through the store. Stood for ten minutes deliberating over which gluten-free flour would be best, before an assistant asked if he needed any help.

I’m good, he muttered, and then, as the kid wandered off, cleared his throat and said, Actually –

Greg – the kid assistant in question – had suggested the red bag. Said it’s corn flour, instead of wheat. Joel can’t pronounce the brand name. He just knows it’s tucked behind a box of cereal in the cupboard downstairs – he hid it there so you wouldn’t find it and snuff out his plan.

His plan, which he now has to put into action. Without waking you. He’d lie here forever just staring at you, if he hadn’t sworn to himself to make good on his promise and cook you some damn pancakes.

So he slowly pulls his left hand from between yours, loosening your death grip, and steals it back across your waist. He does the same for his right arm – more careful, though, so he doesn’t tug on your hair. Like some kind of wild cat creeping through the jungle, every moment calculated and careful.

He bunches the comforter up a little at your back, so that if you do stir, it might feel like he’s still there. Still a weight, curving around you. He takes a good five minutes just to travel the length of the room – the lightest he’s ever walked, dodging the spots on the carpet that he knows make the floorboards squeal.

When the door gently clicks back into place, he heads downstairs. Cracks out his frying pan – non-stick, obviously – and all his ingredients, pulls the printed recipe from its hiding place between two cookbooks and lays it out on the counter, flattening the creases and unfolding the corners. And gets to it.

His first egg cracks messily over the lip of the bowl. The yolk runs down the outside, and he curses before swiping it back up with his index finger. The second egg empties fully inside the bowl, but drags with it tiny fragments of shell. Joel spends five minutes focusing on picking every single piece out of the mixture. He crouches to make sure he’s poured the exact amount of milk, eyes level with the top of the liquid, and he double checks every step before he follows it.

This has to be perfect. Has to be. For you.

The entire time, all he can think about is you asking to sleep with his body inside yours. Wanting him closer than you’d ever wanted him before, as close as he could physically be. Your sleepy voice circles between his ears on loop – want somethin’ else. That safe feeling creeps up on him all over again.

He knows he shouldn’t. He can’t. He’s spent the last month purposefully pushing those feelings down, dampening them anytime they rose to the surface. Only allowing himself to feel them, to acknowledge them, when you’re around. Because he can’t fucking help but acknowledge them when you’re here – they stare him straight in the face.

So he’d been making peace with letting the floodgates open just a little bit at a time – one quick rush whenever you’d give him one of your meaningful glances, when your hot skin would brush against his, when your mouth would fall open at the feeling of his first deep thrust inside you.

And then he’d bolt them back up.

Except that, now…he’s not sure the dam can hold much longer. There are cracks he’s not repairing quickly enough. Unintended consequences hammering against the other side of the stone in the form of angry white waves.

He’s staring at the beige circle of batter in the pan, swept off with the waves into someplace far from his kitchen, when the sound of your voice draws him back.

“Joel? You down there?”

The floorboards at the top of his stairs creak. You’re leaning over the banister.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m here.” He slips halfway out of the kitchen door, closing it over his body in hopes you won’t smell the pancakes. You ask what he’s doing, and he says, “Just makin’ a coffee. You want anything brought up?”

“I’m good,” you reply. “’m gonna take a shower.”

“Alright, baby. There’s probably some stuff in Sarah’s bathroom you can use.”

He listens closely as your footsteps recede, waiting to hear the hum of his shower before he relaxes again, flipping the pancake over. It sizzles away as he runs one thick finger along the inside of the bowl and tastes his handiwork. Pretty damn good, he thinks. He’s sucking his finger clean when his cell goes.

Joel swipes to answer, and before he can utter a Hello?, your dad’s voice is screaming down the line to him.

“Mornin’, pal! You in? You up?”

He figures this is the infamous speakerphone you rambled for ten minutes about last night. Like a fucking foghorn, man. I’m deaf in this ear now.

He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond. “I was just passin’ by, remembered you got that leakin’ pipe, or whatever it is. Under your sink, right? You good for me to drop in ‘n take a look?”

“Uh – uh, I’m –” Joel stammers his way through a sentence he doesn’t know the ending of, slotting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and giving the pan a rattle against the stovetop. He slips the spatula under the mixture, and when he flips it over, the pancake is charcoal black. “Fuck.”

“What’s that?” you dad roars, deafening in Joel’s ear. Fuckin’ speakerphone.

“Nothin’, it’s…” He sighs, accepting his new-found position: backed into a fucking corner. What’s new these days?

“Yeah, I’m up. See you in a bit.”

He hangs up the phone midway through an Alright, buddy from your dad, and whacks the chargrilled pancake on top of the pile. His phone surfs across the counter in a blur of blind panic, before Joel’s taking the stairs two at a time to get to you.

The door’s ajar. He can hear you quietly singing to yourself. Same song you’re always fucking singing, always trying to coax Joel into singing along with you. You’re humming the guitar solo when he whips the door open.

“Hey, hey,” he’s panting, taking your towel in one hand and reaching for the shower door with the other, a blur of movement before his eyes like he’s not in control of his own body. “Out.”

“Huh?” you reply, blinded by the soap suds running down your forehead and into your eyes.

“Baby,” Joel whispers, desperate, “you gotta get out. He’s here. Your damn dad’s here.”

He drags you over to the first place he spots: his closet. He knows it’s no fucking good, but he can hear your dad’s car squealing to a halt in his drive, and he’s in a blink panic wondering what artefacts, what evidence of your being here lie dotted around his house. Your bikini’s hanging up out back, there’s probably a hoodie still strewn over the back of his couch.

He doesn’t have time to think, though, because in the midst of his mental scan of every room whilst explaining to you what’s going on, your dad’s heavy boots just thudded onto his doormat.

“Miller?” he calls up the stairs. And Joel closes the closet over.

----------

He stands by the front door watching your dad’s car purr off down the street, waiting until it turns left and disappears behind the Dawsons’ back fence to shut the door. When he turns back into his hallway, the house is uncomfortably silent. You’re still up in his room.

The weight of your phone pulls at the waistband of his jeans. He slips his hand into his back pocket, fishes it out, and takes one step toward the stairs. The screen lights in his palm.

There’s a cluster of notifications from some film class group chat, a couple Snapchats from Sarah. A reminder to take your birth control from some pink-icon app, and then –

I’m heading over to Joel’s to check something out for him. Wanna meet me there?

He stares at it until the text burns into his eyes. Blinks, and it’s seared into his lids. His breath leaves his chest in a heavy, burdened sigh. It trembles as it pushes from his lungs. He feels something burning under his skin. All over.

He’s angry. And he’s trying to keep it contained.

Keep it where it lies, keep it beneath the surface. Stop it from pooling right behind his lips, collecting in the light of his eyes. Keep it from revealing itself. But when his foot lifts to the first step, it’s like a deadweight in the air.

He’s angry. But he’s fucking exhausted.

The bedroom is empty when Joel pushes the door open. You’re still hidden in the closet. You don’t look up at him when he pulls on the shuttered door, letting light flood across your hands, still covering your face. There are flicks of dripping wet hair peeking out from under the towel on your head.

He wants to put his arms around you. Wants to kiss you all over. Tell you, It’s okay, it’s alright. He didn’t see nothin’.

But he can’t. Because neither of those things are true.

Your dad saw the cowgirl hat. Hell of a lot like a hat my daughter has. It sent a sharpened bolt of panic through Joel’s body the second the words came tumbling out. He might’ve seen your bag lying at the bottom of the stairs. Might’ve passed your car on his drive here. There are so many loose fucking ends.

And more than that – harder to accept: maybe this isn’t okay anymore. Maybe it hasn’t been the entire time. And maybe, despite all his good efforts and the fucking way you make him feel, despite it being weeks now of tiptoeing and lying and covering your tracks – maybe you finally crossed a line.

He can’t look at you a second longer. His heart’s in his throat. If he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll probably choke. Break down. So he walks away.

You follow him downstairs a few minutes later, fully dressed and silent. Your touch sweeps across his shoulder blades, and it takes everything in him not to turn to you then and there. Come here, kiss me. Pretend none of it’s happening, just for a moment.

He sets your plate down in front of you. He’s taken the burnt pancake. He follows a pattern: cuts into the food, glances out to the backyard, and back to the plate. It’s the only thing keeping the words from rolling out onto the table in front of him. The only thing stopping him from –

You kick his leg. So gently, he barely feels it.

“You gonna eat?” he asks in response, chewing on the smoky flavor of burnt batter. Your hands hesitate, and he feels his own flinch as if to take them, rub them, squeeze them. And then he watches as you drag your knife through your own breakfast.

He wants you to yell at him. He wants to give meaning to the guilt he feels. He knows what’s coming, and he isn’t so sure that you do.

This is…impossible. It has been, from the start. Always sneaking off, coming up with excuses. So many fucking excuses, he can’t even keep them straight in his head anymore. She’s here, droppin’ my flannel off. Now we’re upstairs, I’m showin’ her my guitar. Need her to help with decorations. Your TV’s broken, did you know that? Don’t mind us, just sat in this private corner of my backyard, out of view of fucking everyone. I’ll pick her up from her rodeo night, take her home. She’s at Anna’s all day today, right?

And your dad – kind and naïve, or maybe just so fucking gullible that every single one lands like the flour did in the egg mixture. Just gracefully floats down into his brain, absorbs itself and folds perfectly into place.

So, yell at him. Get mad. Make him feel like the fucking asshole he knows he is. Leading you on, and letting you get close to him, and then when it gets too hard – pushing you away. Doesn’t matter if that’s what he did or not; doesn’t matter whether he did or didn’t mean it. He wants you to be mad at him. To justify what he’s about to do.

He slides you your phone. Motions for you to read it.

“Fuck…” you whisper, and then he thinks you get it.

But then you say, “…he didn’t see me, though. Right?” and his heart sinks.

No. He didn’t see you. But he saw so many little pieces of you, that Joel finds it impossible to consider that he isn’t already seeing the entire picture. He’s picturing your dad at home in the living room, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair, adding two and two and two and two and –

You’re bickering. Actually arguing. He doesn’t know how to navigate it, save for letting the frustration take the wheel and drive the point home: you came too close to being caught.

You’re smarter than this, he knows you are. He knows that you can see plain as day, everything that he can. The bag, the hat, the fucking home-cooked breakfast sat on his kitchen counter. He’s watching you argue your point, hands dancing in the air animatedly, eyebrows lifting, eyes widening. Hear me out. Listen to me. Hear me out.

“I didn’t fucking mean to let him see the b–”

“That’s not the point,” Joel says, before he has time to stop himself.

“Then what’s your point?”

He feels his voice carry off into the air with the images racing around his head. Hank’s shadow under the door. The roar of voices downstairs as you climaxed. Your body pinned under Joel’s on your couch. The way the morning light screamed into the house as your front door burst open.

He doesn’t sound like he has much of a point, even to himself. He’s in it just as much as you are. He’s lied and he’s hidden just as much as you have, and made mistakes that are…worse, as far as he’s concerned.

And the worst one of all sits directly opposite him. Head low, eyes boring into the wood of his kitchen table. He can see the tears swelling across your waterline. Can feel the heat from here as it spreads across your face. Anger thrums through his chest again, and his teeth grit.

He murmurs, pushing himself up from the table and away from you. Tells you there’s some stuff he needs to see to. You’re mad about it, like he knew you would be. Like you should be. He promises he’ll be back in a couple hours; promises you’ll talk when he gets home.

And then he leaves.

----------

Clark’s is on the other side of town. It takes him nearly forty minutes to get there, and more than half of that time is spent staring at the tail lights of a Honda in front of him. Some accident up ahead. His eyes bore into the burning red strip of brake light until it’s singed into them, a blur of blue when he finally rips his glare away and stares up at the white sky.

He thinks about calling you. Saying, Hey, I’m stuck in traffic, talk to me, but he doesn’t. He just…doesn’t.

Instead, he wonders what you’re doing. Whether or not you’re still at his place. He wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. But if you are – and he hopes you are – what are you doing?

He thinks: She’s on the couch. Bundled in blankets. Grey’s is on TV. She’s rewatchin’ her favorite episodes.

Least, that’s what he wants you to be doing. Wants you to be making yourself feel better, because he knows he was a complete ass earlier. You didn’t deserve any of it. Nothing that he didn’t deserve himself, just as much, anyway.

He thinks about coming home, and you hitting pause, pushing yourself off the couch and sauntering around to him. Wrapping him in the blanket until your bodies are pressed together under the woven red, and kissing him. Kiss me kiss me kiss me.

And the thought of you, standing on your tiptoes to press your soft lips to his, your fingers sifting through his hair, is like a cold pack on a searing wound. Dulls his anger, even if it’s just for a second.

His wide tires crawl silently across the smooth lot of the plant hire, parking right in front of the wire fence. The truck door slams shut when he gets out. He doesn’t mean it. Maybe he does. But he does it without thinking, and with a hot head, a temper sharper than nails, he strides over to the glass-paneled door and swings it open.

She’s sat behind the desk, same as always. Dark, deep auburn hair, groomed and set to perfection so that when she looks up, it doesn’t move an inch. Curls around the sweetheart shape of her face, smooth and shining. Her blue eyes twinkle in the glaring light from outside, and she stands.

She tugs lightly on the hem of her white blouse. You’d probably elbow him and say, That’s cream, not white. She smiles at him and it doesn’t look a thing like your smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw your smile. Fuck, he thinks, when did I last make her smile?

And he’s still wondering, when Lois says, “Hey, stranger,” and puts a gentle, pale, red-nailed hand down on the desk. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” Joel grumbles, clearing his throat and glancing at the man in a pair of thick, steel-toe boots, sat in a waiting area to his left. He thinks it’s probably polite to ask how she is. It’s been seven weeks since he blew off her hint for a date.

“Good, thanks,” she replies, cheeks swelling even more. They’re lightly shaded crimson, a soft shimmer to them against her snowy skin, dappled with light freckles. “You?”

He nods once. “Good,” he echoes, not sure what else to say. He’s lying, and she doesn’t seem to figure him out the way you would.

No. Instead, Lois steps back, straightens up, and twirls the pen in her fingers. “What can I do ya for?”

“Got some equipment I’m after,” he mutters, hand slipping into his back pocket for his phone. Lois’s eyes flit up and down his body as he taps his passcode in with his thumb.

She asks him something, but it sounds like she’s speaking through a closed door. He’s elsewhere.

The phone unlocks, screen lifting to reveal the last open app: his camera roll. His thumbs hover over the screen, tracing where yours would’ve tapped last night.

The video’s muted, she won’t hear it even if he let it play, but he swipes away the second he recognizes the tangled mess of your hair, his fist locked tight in it. His own hair, salt and pepper buried deep in the crook of your neck.

Something in his chest aches. Pulls tight, hurts his heart. He takes a deep breath and scares the feeling away. He’s staring at his camera roll. Staring at twelve little square thumbnails – couple of them work stuff, couple of them lists of supplies he has to remember to pick up – and then. Then.

You. At the Hillcrest. Dimples in your cheeks. That’s what made him take his phone out. The soft dips in your skin that appear anytime you smile, laugh, sometimes even just when you talk. He’d first noticed them when you had a mouth full of pizza, chatting animatedly about Meredith and Derek, and he’s noticed them every time since.

He’d seen them, as you posed with Sarah for a selfie at lunch. And his hand had slipped into his pocket before his brain even had the chance to finish the thought.

His quiet way of marking how he felt in that moment. How his chest seemed to fill as if with air, or something thicker. Sweeter. Like it was trying to push words up, a comment to tell you how beautiful you looked. Trying to make him move, run his thumb light as air across that tiny valley in your cheek and look at you with eyes that translated the words hammering behind his eyes.

But you had company. And all he managed to do was take two fucking photos.

Lois talks again, and this time, there’s no closed door.

“Huh?” Joel’s head snaps up, takes a few seconds to focus on the red hair in front of him. “Sorry, Lois, sorry.”

“’s alright. You okay?” She’s smiling so warmly, so sincerely. And there are no dimples in her cheeks.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “just checkin’ for the address.”

She holds out a pad, a stack of hire agreement forms hovering between her body and his, but he’s not looking. He’s still scrolling through his phone, thumbs searching your dad’s text thread for the information. Lois lowers the pad to the counter, places the pen on top. Fiddles with it until it’s lined up with the top of the form perfectly.

Then Joel looks up, and she smiles again.

“Not for you, then?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Just the messenger.”

“Got it. Well, you know what you’re doing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Lois takes a step back, eyes still on Joel, who smiles politely, then swipes the form from the desk and takes a seat between Steel-Toe Boots and some tall, leafy plant that he has to bat away when he sits down. He’s copying the site address, phone resting on his thigh, when the receptionist speaks again.

“How’s Sarah doin’? She home yet?”

“Yeah,” Joel replies, “been home a couple weeks now. She’s been in Nashville this weekend.”

Lois lifts her head, blinking slowly. “Nashville. Nice. So, you’ve had a weekend to yourself.”

He scoffs. “Yeah,” he croaks.

“And what does Joel Miller get up to when he has an empty house for a few days?”

His fingers squeeze around the pen, pushing deeper into the paper. His expression hardens. “Nothing excitin’ enough to share. Sat by the pool yesterday. Was nice out.”

She agrees. “Sure was. You have company?”

Joel shakes his head once. Blinks the image of you and your red bikini from his vision. Focuses on dragging the pen one digit at a time across the line labeled Phone Number. If he cared enough, he’d give the obvious hint a couple seconds’ consideration, even just to protect Lois’s pride a little.

But he doesn’t care. And right now, he ain’t interested in protecting anyone but you.

“Nope. Just me ‘n a few beers.”

“Better off that way,” a hoarse, forty-cigs-a-day voice rasps from his right. “Less fuckin’ problems.”

Joel’s jaw rotates a degree towards the work boots; notices the folds of dry, leathery skin piled atop the raised gray eyebrows of their owner, and then turns back silently.

Lois clears her throat awkwardly. “Well, I spent the day with my book. I’m readin’ a Colleen Hoover. Adam’s at camp, so – quiet house for me, too.”

Joel finds himself nodding. Autopilot. He’s pretending he’s listening.

You’re still in his sight, wandering over from the sliding kitchen doors, a bottle in each hand. He can hardly see you when he looks up, the sun’s so bright. You hold a beer out, condensation dripping down your fingers towards Joel’s when he takes it, and then you slump down in the sun lounger next to his.

His arm reaches across, and your small fingers wrap and then unwrap around his, running across his knuckles, nails lightly scratching his worked hands. And he’s smiling, and he doesn’t even notice it until his eyes meet yours and you laugh, and he asks, What? through a chuckle, and you say, Nothin’, you just look happy.

Your dimpled blush blurs back into checkboxes and scrawled handwriting. You’re gone again. He’s in a white office, and the gentle lapping of the water on the pool’s edge fades into the headache noise of a fan humming, and he feels the warmth of your gaze on his skin turn into the cold, harsh spotlight glare of Lois’s eyes on him.

He looks up. She’s still smiling. At this point, he finds it fucking unnerving.

He rises from his chair, swings a wandering leaf from that ugly green plant out of his way and paces back over to the desk, sliding the pad back across to her. Their hands brush as she takes it from his grip, and he pulls his wrist close to his body. Lois doesn’t seem to notice.

She’s running the pen down the form, checking everything he’s filled in. Her tongue moves around the inside of her cheek, sucking on a hard candy. “Delivery on Friday?” she double checks, and Joel nods. “Alright,” she says, tearing away his copy, “we’ll call ya.”

“’ppreciate it,” he mumbles, folding the paper into his back pocket.

She turns, reaching to slip the form into a blue tray, and Joel pauses. Thinks to say something – he hopes Adam has a fun time at camp, or that Lois enjoys the rest of her quiet week. But then he sees you sat opposite him, staring fixedly at the plate before you, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He feels your hand laced in his, hears your laugh still ringing in his ears.

He misses you. He should never have left you. You matter more to him than some equipment for a site. Matter more to him than anything. He should’ve never fucking left.

Joel nods. Reaches for the handle of the door. Glances back to Lois. “There a florist anywhere near here?”

----------

He pulls the truck in alongside the florist. Teal window frames, a little pink door. He can hear you now. How fucking cute is that store? Give me your phone, I gotta get a picture. Mine’s is in my bag in the back. Look, the traffic’s movin’, Joel, give me your phone – quick!

His fingers hook around the silver door handle. He pats his jeans once – wallet’s right there – and goes to pull, when his cell vibrates from the center console. He can see himself in the glass screen, your dad’s name written across the reflection of his forehead.

He bites down on his lip. Hard. Glances up to the road ahead. Blinks. And decides to answer.

“Joel,” your dad chirps down the line. “Sorry, buddy, you’ll be sick a’ the sight ‘n sound of me today.”

Joel manages a convincing laugh. “What’s up?”

“Just makin’ sure you’re rememberin’ to put Friday’s date down for delivery on that order. We’re gonna need the stuff over the weekend, so.”

“Yep. Just been to do it right now. Friday’s date, Harvey’s site, your card details ‘n everything.”

“’attaboy. Good job. You’re all grown up.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks, pal. I appreciate it. There wasn’t no chance I was gettin’ time to do it myself,” he lowers his voice, “I’m still stuck here with Kelman.”

Joel’s fingers trace around his steering wheel. “Oh, yeah? He keepin’ you busy?”

“You bet. Had to haggle with ‘im just to get a lunch break. Speakin’ of – I swung by the house and that daughter of mine wasn’t home. Haven’t seen or heard from her since yesterday mornin’. I’m just checkin’ she ain’t stop by to see Sarah or som’?”

His fingers lock tight around the leather. “Sarah’s still in Nashville, she gets in tonight. Couldn’t tell you where yours is. I’m not home yet, so.”

It’s a half-truth. He could wager a pretty good guess, but he can’t be certain, can he?

Your dad chuckles down the line. “She spent the night at Anna’s. My house must be like prison to her – she’s never around anymore. I’ll hear from her soon, I’m sure. Alright. Thanks, again, Joel.”

He drops the phone back into the cupholder with a sigh, leaning back against the headrest to stare at the roof of the truck. He’s still picturing you in his living room, head turning to the street at every sound of a car door, or tires rolling by. And then the image is marred by your dad, peering in the window back at you, catching you wrapped up in a situation you shouldn’t be in.

He doesn’t want your dad to find out. For obvious reasons. Because it would mean the collapse of their friendship, the collapse of the world they built between them – for you, for Sarah, for themselves. Comfortability, and normalcy, and routine and order all thrown to the wind on account of some month-long fling.

But more important than all of that: it would mean dragging you into all of that, too. Fucking up your relationship with your dad. Making things weird between you and Sarah. Ruining whatever’s left of what you and Joel had, before you both took it too far.

And if he doesn’t want all that – if he doesn’t want your dad finding out – then something has to change. Something’s gotta stop.

His fingers wrap tight around the key and turn, and the truck jumps to life. He turns away from the teal-colored florist as he pulls off.

----------

You take it about as well as he reckoned you might. About as well as you should, given the circumstances. He isn’t surprised, and he doesn’t blame you. He’s probably on your side, when you argue back with him.

“You’re not serious, right? Joel. You’re not –”

“Kid, I…”

“No. What? Because of a fucking bag?”

He lifts his gaze and pleads with you. “Because of the lying.”

You’re right, with your response: it’s never been an issue until now. He’s been more than fucking happy to sneak off, take you as his own, and then return with a satisfied grin and a mouth full of excuses to feed your company. He almost agrees.

It’s just: this time, your dad’s at your heels like a bloodhound. A little less sharp, maybe. Blind as a fucking bat, sure. But he can smell something’s up. And he’s circling it, nose to the ground, drawing nearer and nearer to the pair of you with each step.

You ask if he wants to tell the truth. That thought scares him just as much. Knocks him back a few steps. No, he doesn’t want to come clean.

The words fly back and forth like a tennis match. Too fast for him to keep control of what he’s saying and how you’re hearing it. He wants to break it off – is there anything to break off? – but he doesn’t want to lose you – how can you lose something you never had? – and then: did he ever have you in the first place?

You’re standing over him, between his knees. “End it,” you tell him. “I’ll go.”

There’s a casualness in the loose shrug of your shoulders that scares him more than the prospect of you actually leaving. How easy it looks like it could be, for you to just wander out. Sling your bag over your shoulder and revert back to the start of the summer, when he was just a ride home after a rainy day at work.

Forget how to touch him the way he’s certain only you can, forget the secret language between you, forget every stolen glance and whispered word and every thought that ever translated from your brain to his as easy as they would pass between your lips.

“You don’t mean nothin’ to me? That what you think?” He’s laughing. Disbelief, fear, shock. Whichever one it is, it pulls across his cheeks painfully. Somehow, you’ve ended up at the foot of his bed.

“Well, what else am I supposed to take from this, asshole? That you’re fuckin’ in love with me?”

It’s cold water over an already-dying fire. The words smother into ash on his tongue. No more come to the front. He just stares at you. His phone starts to chitter out into the silence between you.

You take a step forward. Your voice is low. “You don’t get to do this, you know. You don’t get to pull me in and then drop me…once you’re done with me.”

“Don’t.”

It’s not much, but it soars from the pit of his stomach, through his throat and past his lips like a final arrow. All he can muster up.

“Don’t.”

There’s a weight where the words originate from. Something deep in his gut, an ache pulling its way upward, swelling across his chest. His ears are screaming.

Of all the things you might think – he’s an asshole, he’s a liar, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing – the worst one would be that he spent this entire time leading you on. Making you feel special. Making you think you were something to him.

You are something to him. You’re – you’re fucking everything to him. It’s why he’s doing this, right? Going against every instinct, every gut feeling. To protect you. To do what’s right by you. He’s not fucking done with you. He wonders if he’ll ever go another day in his life without thinking about you.

“I can’t read your mind anymore…” you whisper, and his lungs steal a breath. His lack of response flattens your expression.

Joel might not be done, but you are.

He can feel you slipping from his grasp like sand through his knuckles. Each grain rocking itself loose, choosing to throw itself to the depths below rather than spend another second wrapped in his clutch.

He’s trying so desperately to hold onto you. Listen to me, he thinks, and he knows you can’t hear him anymore. Because now you’re really going – you’re tripping out of his room. Your heel catches on the threshold, like one last-ditch attempt from fate to pull you back into him, but you stop yourself and spin, fleeing down the hallway.

He takes a loose grasp of your wrist, fingers barely meeting on the other side of your skin before you tear it away from him like he’s scalded you. The look on your face makes him think for a moment that he might actually have done it – burned you. Pained you. Raised the skin below your gentle palm in a furious, red glow.

He’s swapping words out like they’re tools, each one immediately breaking and being flung back into the box. He’s trying any combination, any useless, futile order of words to make you stop in your tracks. You know how much I care about you, ‘s why I’m doin’ it, baby, come back, we can talk about this.

And he opens his mouth to give voice to the only words he knows would stop you – the reason why he’s doing it in the first place, the only thought he’s had anytime he’s looked at you for the last couple weeks. He opens his mouth to say it, or say something like it, when the machine silences the ringtone and the pair of you, too.

Her voice is like ice down the back of his shirt. He stares at the machine, red light blinking like a rag to a bull. He could walk over to it and smash the ever-loving fuck out of it with his fists until it’s dust on his coffee table. Until it shuts the fuck up, stops interfering with his fucking business.

And then he thinks about Lois, and her cream blouse, and her red nails, and her big, blue eyes, and her soft drawl and everything about her that is so entirely opposite to everything about you.

And how much – despite how nice and friendly, or funny and good-natured she is – how much he hates her right now, and how much he fucking loves you.

But you’re gone, now. Washed away by the tide. No more sand in Joel’s palm.

He tries to stop it. Tries to wind back a little, tries to make the sea cough up what it just stole from him. Give her back, you fuck. His eyes are stinging like salt water. Why are they stinging? There’s a roaring in his ears – the waves laughing in his face. Sickly and deafening.

He’s doing his best to keep a hold on his trembling voice. He knows he sounds pathetic. But yours is louder, stronger, steadier. And when you talk, it’s with an air of finality. Like you’re turning over the horizon. The last time he’ll ever see you again.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Joel.”

----------

He doesn’t call or text you that night. He doesn’t know what he’d say. Doesn’t even know where he’d begin. You’re mad, and Joel figures you got every right to be. This entire thing – today, this weekend, the whole month you’ve been together – is one big fucking mess.

He spends the afternoon hunched over his kitchen table, trying to distract himself with work. Twirling a pencil between his fingers, reading three, four, sometimes five times over the same building plans before deciding that the words and numbers won’t fucking sink in. He leaves them strewn across the table, wanders aimlessly upstairs and takes a cold shower.

Sarah’s flight gets in at 8PM. Joel’s sat curbside, truck engine humming, scanning every single figure that walks out of the airport building. When he spots the gray hoodie, the brown hair tied back with a pink scrunchie, the much-too-big-for-four-days-away suitcase rolling at her heels, he gets out.

She hugs her friends, they nod in passing greeting to him, and she skips over.

“Hey,” he breathes as she wraps her arms around his waist. “How was your flight? Saw you comin’ in.”

She shrugs in response. “I’m hungry. Wanna go get McDonald’s?”

Joel grumbles, slotting her case in the back of the truck. “You don’t wanna get home? Take a shower first? You smell like plane.”

“Ha! No.”

She opens the passenger side door and hoists her foot up on the seat, retying her sneaker. Joel’s already in and buckled up, hands on the wheel, watching her blue nails loop the laces.

“There’s one, like, ten minutes away.”

He’s shaking his head. “We got food in the house.”

Her gaze lifts. Her foot drops. “Oh, c’mon, it’s on the way home. We’ll be, like, five minutes. I just got off a two-hour flight, dude, right through dinner. I’m starving, I –”

“Would you just get in the damn truck, Sarah?”

It’s shorter, snappier, angrier than he meant. But he’s parked in the middle of the packed pick-up area, and the rattling of suitcase wheels and the whistling of cab drivers and the fucking roaring of planes overhead are making the headache behind his eyes worse.

Sarah freezes, one arm still leaning on the doorframe. “Jesus. What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Joel mutters, shaking his head. “Sorry. Just – get in.”

“No need to be an asshole about it,” she murmurs, pulling herself up into the passenger seat.

Joel’s face is in his hands, elbows atop the steering wheel. “I’m not tryna be an asshole,” he says into his palms.

His daughter looks at him. Concerned. “Somethin’ happen? While I was gone?”

He shakes his head again.

Nothing happened.

He’s quiet the rest of the night. The rest of the week. Sarah notices, he knows she does, because she pries. In her own way. She’s smarter than he is. Less obvious.

She’s already up and in the kitchen when he rises on Tuesday morning. Spins around at the toaster, tells him the machine’s ready for his coffee. Asks if he wants her to make it. Asks if he wants any breakfast.

Thanks, kiddo. No, I’ll get it. No, you’re good, thanks.

They sit opposite one another in silence, save for the crunching of Sarah’s toast. He can feel her eyes on him, same way he felt Lois’s. Trying to burrow deep inside, take a look at his brain. Catch a glimpse of the words he’s thinking over and over and over.

There ain’t no words, though. It’s just images. Video replay of your back as you strode down his driveway, the way the wind caught your hair and brushed your cheek, the way your hand came up to wipe your tears. And the way he stood there, like a fucking idiot, and did nothing.

His chest hurts any time he thinks about you. Pulls in, knits itself together in knots. He’s good at pushing feelings down, good at turning them away from the sunlight like faded pebbles. But this is different. It’s a different kind of hurt.

It’s unresolved, it’s an open wound. It’s you. And it’s every time he hears REO Speedwagon, every time he pulls a flannel over his shoulders and catches the scent of your perfume on it, every time he’s flicking through the TV and catches a flash of a hospital setting, it’s a pair of hands deep inside the wound, pulling it a little wider.

It aches. It stings and it aches and it winds.

And then he turns the pebbles around. Back to the shade. Over and over and fucking over.

On Wednesday night, he caves. Asks Sarah if she’s spoken to you.

She’s chewing on a slice of pizza; licks the grease from her fingertips before she answers. “Not really. She’s been quieter than usual. Why?”

“She’s been quieter than usual?” he repeats, playing off the way his head shot up by looking straight back down at the pizza box.

Sarah narrows her eyes. “Yeah. I figure she’s working a lot.”

“Right. Right.”

“She gets tired of being in the house all the time, I think. Getting treated like a kid still. So I guess the more time she can spend outta there, the better.”

Joel nods slowly. He already knows that much.

Sarah studies him. Watches his hands as he dabs a pizza crust into the dip. When he tosses it in his mouth, he looks back up at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “You want the last slice?”

“You take it,” he mutters, sitting back and wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’m stuffed.”

She hums, reaching forward. “Whatever it is,” she says, pulling the dough apart, “that’s got you this down –”

“Ain’t nothin’ got me down, kiddo.”

“– whatever it is,” she continues, “I bet it works itself out.”

Sarah stands up, taking her water with her, and wanders out of the kitchen.

----------

Joel struggles through another sleepless night, Thursday through Friday. His eyes don’t close over once. He hauls himself out of bed early in the morning, forces a black coffee down his throat, and heads off to work.

He’s up at some new client in Waco. Andrew Curtis – or, well, Andrew Curtis’s father, but Joel’s been dealing primarily with the son, and the guy’s a fucking imbecile. Doesn’t know his head from his ass, probably. And he has a voice like nails on a damn chalkboard, and his shirt’s untucked around the back, but Joel ain’t got a tone kind enough, or half the wordsmanship, or an ounce of energy to tell him.

Anyway – he spends all day at this dusty site, trying to work and instead, thinking about whatever the fuck you’re doing. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with. It’s almost seven by the time he’s leaving, packing up his truck and watching Andrew Curtis across the yard. He’s spotted his own shadow; he’s twisting around to reach the ducktail poking out from above his belt loops.

Joel thinks to call you about it on the way home. Tell you all about the guy: his dry conversation, his flannel, the fact he kept calling Joel Joe all day. He figures it would make you laugh, least the way he’d tell it, and he reckons that’s exactly what you need right now. That’s exactly what he needs, right now.

When Clark’s call him, he dials your dad. Has his ear blown half to hell by the speakerphone. Learns midway through the conversation that you’re right there in the car, too, and bites back a stream of incoherent, senseless words. Settles for a quiet reminder: he’s right here if you need him.

He doesn’t expect you to take him up on it. Knows you got better things to do than deal with some asshole who’d rather break your heart than have a few difficult conversations. You’re probably having fun, probably finally feeling good again. You’re probably fine.

But still. He doesn’t sleep that night, either.

It’s just gone two when Anna calls. He’s lying in bed, some shopping network on loop on the TV. His tired eyes bore into the screen, defocusing over the pixels, not watching nor listening and barely fucking breathing until he picks up the phone. Her voice is panicked, shrill, and shaking so much he wonders if his own phone is trembling with it.

“Mr. Miller?” she asks, and Joel sits up. “Got your number from Yelp. ‘m sorry it’s so late, it’s…oh, fuck – it’s, like, 2AM.”

“Anna,” Joel says hoarsely. Get to the fuckin’ point.

“Right. Sorry. It’s just…we kinda have a…situation, here.”

It’s you. He fucking knows it’s you. His heart begins to hammer. He doesn’t give a fuck whether she puts two and two together or not when he asks –

“Where is she?”

“We’re still at Frank’s,” Anna says, sniffing. He can hear the booming bassline of music, muffled; the sharper chatter of voices. She’s on the street. In his head, he can see her shoulders hunched; her bare arms wrapped around her body for warmth. She goes to say it again. “We’re still at –”

“’n where is she?” Joel cuts, and she finally cracks.

In one long, drawn breath, she spills. “She was fucked from the second we walked in here; she drank too much too quick, Mr. Miller – Joel,” she says when he corrects her, “and then she just – I dunno, she just – fucking disappeared with these guys, me ‘n Kara never saw ‘em in our lives – and they went upstairs we think, and she came back smelling like weed, and then this guy – he just, like, scooped her off, Mr. M– I mean Joel, like, totally dragged her away, and then –”

“Who–? Anna – Anna, wait,” Joel says, shushing her between her rambling, trying to rein in what she’s saying. When she finally shuts up, he speaks slowly and calmly. “Who dragged her away?”

“We don’t fuckin’ know!” she almost shrieks down the line. It cuts out for a second and Joel’s heart stops dead.“– so we don’t know,” she says when her voice filters back through into his ear, “but Sam said he saw the dude drop something in her bottle when he turned away. A pill or something.”

Joel’s body tenses. Freezes solid, with the blood in his veins. His eyes fix on one spot on his dresser: the loose handle that sits a little squint. He stares at it until his peripheral starts to blur.

“He – say that again?”

“He roofied her, we think. But we can’t fucking find them. Sam and Kara are in there just now looking. The guy pulled her away, that’s what I’m tryna say!”

“Right,” whispers Joel, nodding. He drags a heavy hand over his eyes, tries to push the image of you in danger out of his head for one second so he can figure out what to do.

Anna doesn’t hear him. She keeps talking. “…and then Sam said she told him not to call her dad, but I had to call someone, y’know? You’re the only person I think she wouldn’t – I think she wouldn’t mind me callin’. Please.”

He’s already halfway down the stairs, arms pushing through the sleeves of his shirt. He keeps the phone against his cheek when he bends to reach for his boots, ties them loose and grabs his keys.

“You call me as soon as you find her, you hear? I’m on my way,” he tells Anna, and hangs up.

He’s panicking. Fear, transferred between her cell and his, creeping over his shoulders, wrapping long, cold fingers around his throat. He’s panicking. He’s panicking. He never panics. Where the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you with?

There’s barely any traffic on the road, but the drive takes for-fucking-ever. The lights at the side of the road blur into long, thin streaks of orange. His hands are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. Your name lies loose on his lips.

He pulls up right outside the bar. There are small clusters of people, congregated tight together under the streetlights; cigarettes hanging from lips, bottles loose in hands. He shoves by them on his way to the door. Some guy shuffles out of his way, looking up to cuss Joel out and quickly dipping his head again when he locks eyes with the grizzly expression.

He shoves the door open with his shoulder, and spots you instantly.

----------

His knuckles are throbbing. Skin stretching anytime he moves his hand, searing hot and sharply stinging across the bone. Your touch is the only thing soothing them right now.

He got two good punches in. Just two. Burst the guy’s nose. He would’ve kept going, had he not been in a bar full of people – people who knew who he was – and had you not been stood behind him, body liquid-like from how much you were swaying.

But he has you home now. Up in your room, settled in bed. You’re safe. You’re with him.

You’re fucking wasted. Like, can barely lift a glass of water to your lips unaided wasted. He spent the entire drive watching over you, stealing glances when your head turned or your eyes lulled closed, checking you were still awake, still talking, still fucking breathing.

Whatever that asshole gave you, you don’t seem to have had enough for it to do too much damage. The alcohol is the real culprit. Though you were cognitive enough to yell at him over Lois in the kitchen, which relieved him for a second before it fucking crushed him. He’s lying awake right now – listening to the sound of your snoring – replaying the argument in his head. Over and over.

You’re an asshole and a liar. Just stringing me along this whole time.

He’s some awful cocktail of angry and terrified and fucking heartbroken. You’re lying inches from him, your hand resting softly on top of his, and yet – you’re miles away. The space between you both – fragmented, treacherous.

In a perfect world, he’d have wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He’d have pulled you against his weight, against his strong, steady form. And he’d have walked you, as slow as you needed, out of the bar and to his truck. Maybe laughing. Maybe singing.

He’d have told you everything was fine, told you he loved you, told you he was gonna get you home, make you feel better. He’d hold you until the sun came up, and then hold you until it went back down.

He’d love you. And you’d let him.

Maybe that world doesn’t exist, Joel thinks. And maybe that’s for the better.

It fucking hurts, though. Stings like a hot blade through his chest. All this time, messing around, pretending there was nothing more to it. Letting his feelings through like water in a fucking dam. It was bound to break eventually.

And maybe he really thought, even just for a fleeting moment, there could be something here. Something worth holding onto. More than two idiots messing around, more than sex and secrecy.

He didn’t even realize. Didn’t notice the shift. When did he start feeling…more? When did it cross that line?

He’s staring at the end of your bed. Thinking about you under him, gripping onto his shirt, his hand between your legs. The very first time. And every other fucking time since then. Which one was the threshold? Who pushed who?

His ringtone bursts through the silence, making him jump. His arm swings to fish it from the nightstand, swiping to answer before he’s even read who’s calling, just to shut the thing up.

“Hello?” he murmurs.

“Hey, Joe? Uh, I mean, Joel? It’s Andrew Curtis here.”

He rolls his eyes. For fuck’s sake. “Mornin’, Andrew.”

“Hi. Sorry, I know it’s super early. I’m just checkin’ we’re still good to go. I got my guys ready, we’re rarin’ to get goin’ whenever you are.”

Joel clears his throat, pushing slowly off the plush mattress, resting your hand on the sheets. “Yeah, uh…” He slips out of your room, hopping over to the bathroom and closing the door over. “…I had a, uh…a family emergency durin’ the night. I’m gonna be a little late, but I’ll be there.”

“Oh, gee, I hope everything’s alright?”

He phrases it like he wants Joel to clue him in. He considers for a second actually saying, Yeah, my best friend’s daughter – who I’ve been sleeping with for the last month – got plastered at a bar – Frank’s, local place, you heard of it? – because I broke things off with her – but I didn’t want to, I was just tryna be fuckin’ noble – and I went and picked her up, punched a guy who was tryna hurt her, because guess what, Andrew – I’m in fuckin’ love with her.

He sums it up with: “Yeah. Everything’s fine now. Thanks.”

“Alright, well, great news! Call me when you’re twenty minutes out, I’ll have the guys here for you arrivin’. Safe journey, Joe!”

Joel breathes an Uhuh and hangs up, holding the bridge of his nose. He has a headache, like he’s the one who’s been drinking. It’s only going to get worse, too, heading off to go spend his Saturday with Andrew fucking Curtis and his loose flannel.

The sun’s rising slowly, lighting the hall in a warm glow. Joel pads quietly into your room and pulls the cover back over his side of the mattress. You stir; your head jerks only to move some hair from your face, and then you sigh, sleep pulling you back into its arms.

He watches you for a second. Wishes he could run a light hand down your cheek, kiss your head. Whisper a goodbye, the same way you did to him almost a week ago.

He shakes the thought, collecting his boots from the floor. His hand hovers over his shirt for a moment. And then he lifts it by the collar, lays it neatly on the pillow by your head, and leaves. You can keep it, trash it, burn it. But it’s yours. Everything about him is yours.

In the kitchen, he stands by the sink, nursing a cup of coffee. It’s a quarter to six. This early on a Saturday, he figures he’ll be in Waco by seven, seven-thirty latest. His eyes fix on the spot you two stood last night, yelling back and forth about Lois. She seems so far away, now. He can barely remember the shape of her face, the sound of her voice.

His grip tightens around the mug. He places it in the sink, and grabs his keys. As he passes the stairs, he pauses. Leans on one foot, head tilted to listen out for any sound of life. Any fucking sound – the creak of a floorboard, the squeak of a door handle. Anything to keep him here. Anything.

Nothing comes. No sound, no movement, no you.

He closes the front door gently on his way out.

----------

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[cassiopeiasdaughter]

gorgeous

Sirius Black x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, underage drinking & smoking, !poorly proofread!

summary: you hate Sirius & he hates you (or tries to but fails miserably)

Sirius Black masterlist

you’re so cool it makes me hate you so much

Sirius Black didn’t hate many things.

He hated assignments and losing in quidditch; he hated his parents and the rest of his snobby relatives. He hated having to wear formal clothes and brushing his hair. And he hated you.

It wasn’t something he could explain. You weren’t an evil person and you didn’t do bad things. But something about you drove him completely mad. 

And the only reason he had to deal with you was that you were Lily’s best friend and he couldn’t get rid of you. 

Your best friends were dating and you had to tolerate eachother. 

Be civil James always begged him, but then he would see your face; all uptight and frowning and your hands crossed in front of you; in a manner that reminded him of his old piano teacher who would scold him for not practicing enough. 

You didn’t acknowledge him, and when your eyes did land on him your eyebrows would be raised and your mouth slightly turned downwards, as if his face was covered in dirt and he smelled like garbage. 

The first time he actually talked to you, and realized he liked it better when he didn’t, was when Lily and James first started going out together. Their first date was a friendly get-together with the four of you.

It was not a double date. Sirius made sure to let James know; all he would be doing was distracting you so Lily would be free to talk to James. He was outgoing and charismatic when he needed to be, and he loved James like a brother so being a third/fourth wheel for him wasn’t that big of a deal. Plus, he liked Lily so how bad could her friend be? The answer is terrible.

You wouldn’t look at him, and weren’t impressed by his jokes. He tried telling you about his pranks but all you did was frown and criticize them, “if you cared about school half as much as you care about these childish things, you’d have graduated by the age of 14.” 

He didn’t argue with you, though, even if he died to, because one look at Lily and James and how happy they were (giggling at the stupid things James was saying) couldn’t let him ruin this.

So you sat quietly, eating and drinking, and then drinking some more, until Lily and you left together. Leaving an annoyed Sirius with a blushing James. 

What annoyed him most, was how his friends absolutely adored you. You played chess with Peter; and Sirius always heard him gushing about how brilliant you were at it. You studied with Remus in the library and discussed books together. The way you would speak to his friend about your favorite stories, and the way your eyes always gleam drives him completely insane. And don't get him started on how one day you introduced James to the "the proper athlete lifestyle”,which resulted in Sirius losing his drinking and smoking partner because, our bodies are temples and we need to treat them as such.

So; you have stolen his friends, invaded his life and he can't do anything about it.

One rainy Saturday morning he found Remus, reading a muggle book by the fireplace, about -elves and rings?-.

“Moony.”, he said and earned a quiet “mhm” from his friend, who was still focused on his book.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He said and looked around to make sure no one would hear them.

“Lilys friend, you know, the one in your little book club.”

“Not a book club.”, Remus answered turning a page in his book

“Yeah, whatever. She hates me, I think.”, Sirius said and earned no reaction from his friend “Would you happen to know why?”, he finished and looked at his friend, who closed his book with a sigh.

“Have you ever said anything that would make her hate you?” Remus asked patiently

“No, why, did she tell you anything?”

“Have you done anything to her?”, his friend asked again

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then she just doesn’t like you" he made a move to resume his reading but Sirius insisted.

“Why does it matter, you can’t be liked by everyone, you know that better than most”

“But I don’t get it, why would she hate me this much. She always looks at me with this f-”

Remus didn’t say anything, but gave his friend an amused look, softly smirking at his words.

“What.” Sirius said annoyed

“Well, instead of worrying about why she hates you, ask yourself why you care so much.”

“But I- I don’t care. In fact I hate her just as much.”

“Right.”

“Its true I don’t care!”

“Obsess then, better choice of words.”

“Sod off”, he said as he got up to walk away, leaving Remus laughing to himself and resuming his book.

As the year progressed , your interactions with Sirius remained the same, with the addition of an eyeroll here and there along with bickering that resulted in you being the first one to leave from gatherings.

“Good riddance” he always thought to himself, receiving a murderous look from you; as if you were able to read his thoughts.

December came and your friend group planned a Secret Santa gift exchange. It was a muggle thing, explained Lily, where the participants get gifts for eachother, without revealing their identity.

“Everyone, take a sit and pick a card from the bowl infront of you when it is your turn.”, instructed Lily “And remember, don’t let anyone know who you’ve picked, and you can’t switch cards with anyone!”

As he read Remus’s name on the card, he let out a breath of relief. He was worried, that with his luck, he would end up getting you a gift, and he really didn’t want that. Finding a good present for Moony would be a piece of cake, he told himself and then put off actually buying the gift for a couple of weeks.

He realized how big of an idiot he was, when Friday came, the last Friday before the gift exchange (that would be taking place on Sunday). Which meant he had exactly two days to buy something good for his friend.

He begged James for help, but he was too busy finishing up the last few details of his present; poor Peter had no taste and would be no help and Lily was caught up in Head Girl duties. Making you, the only person available, to advise him, which honestly wasn’t that bad of an outcome , since you and Remus were good friends. 

He found you alone, sitting on a couch with your homework on your lap and a cup of coffee in your hands.

“Goodmorning.”, he greeted 

Your eyes shot up and you looked around confused, before realizing he was talking to you, “Morning.”, you said calmly

“How is the Secret Santa shopping going?”, he asked trying to make smalltalk

“Um fine… And you?’

“It is good that you ask, because I actually need your help.”

“Mine? Why?”

“Well, you see, I delayed buying a gift, which means that if I get something that isn’t perfect now, I will be the the biggest idiot on Earth.”

“Because, you aren’t already?”

“I- ” he let out an annoyed laugh at that, not wanting to insult you now that he needed your help. “As I was saying, I need you to help me find a really really good gift. So, Hogsmeade, tomorrow morning? What do you say, love?”

“Ah- us two?”

“Yeah, well everyone else is kind of busy, so you are kind of my last hope.”

“Oh, oh, well, excuse me, but I have better things to do than spend my Saturday buying gifts for you, besides, you aren’t supposed to tell me who you have.”

“Remus.”, he quickly said

“Why would you tell me that?”, you screamed dramatically leaving him completely unbothered

“Now you kind of have to come, don’t you? You already know who it is and I am sure you have nothing better to do tomorrow.” “Ah, excuse you, but I am a busy person, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, ah, okay. Do you want me to beg? Please, just, do me this favor, this once. The holidays are coming soon and you won’t have to see me for two whole weeks, and after summer I will never bother you again. So please?”

You stared at him for a while, thinking over everything he said , he could swear your face turned red for a split second, before you answered “Fine, but we won’t spend the whole day there, I want to try and study before winter break.” “Great, thank you, we will finish early. So, after breakfast tomorrow? At 10:30?”

“9.”. You said

“Right, okay, bye.”, he said enthusiastically and went on his way to the quidditch field while you loudly said behind his back “Don’t be late!”

He was only ten minutes late, the next morning. But it wasn’t really his fault, practice had ended later than expected the previous night and he needed to avoid being caught by Remus on his way out of the common room. 

So he hurried down the stairs, skipped breakfast and coffee hoping he would have time to buy something when you reached the village, and found you, waiting for him impatiently with a frown on your face.

“You are late.”, you said

“Goodmorning to you too.”, Sirius replied with a sarcastic smile

Before he could say anything else, you held out your hands to give him a few cauldron cakes from the breakfast table “You can get coffee on the go, lets get moving.”, you said and passed him the food before heading towards the carriages.

“Ah, thank you.”, he said with his mouth stuffed, running after you.

The ride to Hogsmeade was…quiet at first. But not in the completely unpleasant and awkward way. You had also brought a notebook with you and made a list of all the shops you could visit, and all the presents you could buy for Remus. Sirius, could hardly keep up with you and mostly nodded while trying not to fall asleep.

“I was thinking,” you started saying as you reached your destination “There is this bookshop, that sells a few Muggle books, and Remus had been telling me about a signed copy he desperately wanted to get.”

“Let’s get it then. Lead the way.” 

“Yeah, but it might be too expensive and it might be sold by now, so just know that we need to have backups.”, you said anxiously 

He grabbed the notebook from your hands in a playful manner, tapping at the list you’d made on the way here. “Well, I think you’ve got that covered. Come on, lets go.”

Before walking inside the bookstore, you agreed to split up and look for the book “Don’t hesitate to hex anyone that tries to get it before us, alright?” 

“Oh of course, I will also stop brushing my hair and I’ll start shouting at people on the street. Perhaps by March I’ll have achieved the proper heathen look, and maybe if I try hard enough I’ll catch up to you.” You replied with a smile while batting your eyelashes at him.

“Ah hilarious, let’s go.”, he said dragging the words in irony

The bookstore was overflowed with books, old and new, and millions of maps, everywhere in the shelves. You were right, to be nervous, finding that one book would be a challenge. Thankfully it wasn’t busy this time of day and the only people inside were you two, an old lady organizing the bookcases and the shop owner who was currently feeding his owl by the window. 

You both spent at least thirty minutes searching, before Sirius heard you scream his name surprised “I found it!.”, you celebrate as if you’ve just caught the golden snitch. He ran to you then and without thinking he gave you a spin, causing you to let out a yelp. 

As he let you down, you looked at eachother awkwardly with a hint of warmth coating your cheeks. He took the book from your hands and quickly said, “Uh good job.” to which you replied “Thank you.” while playing with your sweater.

Walking up to the cashier register, the book owner asked “Is this a present?” ,as he wrapped the book, to which you both replied “Yes.” “Good thinking.” The man said, causing Sirius to ask “What do you mean?” with an awkward smile.

“I learned a little too late, that I should take my wife Christmas shopping with me, and make sure I get her something she actually likes.”, he said smiling 

That statement caused you and Sirius to cough and laugh awkwardly once you both realized what the man was implying.

“Oh no, no we aren’t-”

“We are just, friends.” You said red-faced

“Our best friends are together, and we starting hanging out because of that.”

“Yeah but not, not like that.”

The man observed the two of you in silence for a minute; stammering, with wide eyes and blushing cheeks before he let out a heartfelt laugh. “I see.”

“Well, either way, have a wonderful Christmas.”, he wished as you left.

You walked together in silence, for a while, not knowing what to do now that you had completed your task.

“Thank you for helping me today.”

“Remus will love it.”, you replied with a forced smile 

“Yes.”Neither of you said anything for a few seconds before Sirius interrupted the silence, “Hey, since we finished early, do you want to get some coffee or-”, he asked you, wanting to treat you for helping him with the gift.

“Oh I’d better get going, study now that I have more time. I’ll see you tomorrow for the exchange.”, you said and left him standing in the snow, outside of the Three Broomsticks, with the book in his arms and a stunned look on his face.

He was an idiot to think he misjudged you, of course you had helped him because Remus was your friend, and only that. But, would it honestly be that much of a torment for you to get a cup of coffee with him? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? Had he said something to you; to insult you without knowing it? Was it that old mans comment that bothered you that much? Was it that big of an insult; to be considered his girlfriend? He wasn’t thrilled about it either, but he obviously wasn’t that affected by it. He really couldn’t understand you. 

“Her loss.” He muttered as he went inside for some hot chocolate to treat himself.

Remus obviously loved his gift and the exchange went well. Sirius still remembers to this day singing and dancing in the common room and drinking a lot of mulled wine. He wanted to thank you, but he was met with the cold wall you had built around you and he really didn’t want to ruin his mood.

As April arrived, the days were starting to get warmer- as warm as Scotland could get-, and sunnier. And this year, being your last at Hogwarts the Marauders decided it would be a great idea to plan a Lake-picnic-swim-get together, with Lily of course and well you.

Sirius didn’t mind though, he would play in the water with his friends and avoid you, and if he was lucky he could manage splashing you a few times, without meaning to of course.

The boys arrived first, and Sirius took advantage of that and dragged James in the water so all of them could play a new game he invented which was a mix of quidditch and a muggle sport called water-polo.

It was the most fun he remembered having in a while, it brought him back to his early years, when the worries that come with graduation and adulthood had no place on his mind. 

Of course, fun doesn’t last forever, and you showed up. Your hair was loose and dancing gracefully as the soft wind blew at it. It was the first time he had ever seen you look so, free. You greeted everyone as you took off your clothes, staying in your bright blue swimming suit, causing; Peter to stammer like a Third Year, and then Sirius to splash him with water, to come back to his senses.

You placed your things underneath a tree, near the towel the boys had placed down, and then laid down to read your book as everyone swam.

“Let’s play chicken.”, James said childishly 

“That is a children’s game.”, protested Remus making Lily laugh

“Oh come on, just this once! Lets have fun, one last time.” He pleaded dramatically eventually convincing everyone.

“I am teaming with Moony.” Said Peter making Remus look at him sternly “What? You are the tallest, and I like winning.”

“Whatever.” He said and sank down, for Peter to climb on his shoulder.

Lily swam to James and kissed him, before looking around and asking “What about Sirius?”

It was a sensible question Sirius had also thought about, and he knew the only way to solve this problem would be asking you to team up with him, but he had some dignity saved and wouldn’t bring himself to do that.

James however shouted your name and asked you if you would play with them, since his friend was left alone.

“Um no.” you said apologetically, closing your book.

“What did you say?”, screamed Lily, causing you to get closer to the lake for them to hear you better.

“I said n-” you started but were cut off by Lily, who grabbed your hand while smiling and pushed you in the Lake, causing everyone, especially Sirius, to laugh.

“Well you are in now, so you might as well play.” She winked at you and you threw water at her face in reply

“Can we speed this up? Peter is going to drown us both.”, complained Remus whose head was trying to stay out of the water.

“So, what do I need to do?”, you asked 

“You push the other players off, darling, it isn’t that hard.”, replied Sirius with a sarcastic tone, driving you to give him a side eye.

“Just climb on his back and try to stay there.”, said Peter; pointing Sirius to you

Your face turned red as you swam to his side “Alright, okay.”

“I will count to three, I will sink down and you will sit on my shoulders, yeah?”, he asked

“Okay.”

“1, 2-”, he said calmly with his hands raised in front of you two, counting 

“Wait”, you stopped him and held his hands; preventing him from going anywhere “What if I drown you?”

“You won’t”

“What if I drown you and we both die?”

“We won’t”

“What if you slip and then I choke you with my legs.”

His face turned red at that “I- you won’t”

“What if-”

“Alright, 3.”, he said loudly and sank down, gently guiding you on him; coming up for air after making sure you were fully seated.

“There we go, not that bad, was it?”, he joked

“Nno.”, you said, while trying to maintain your balance, without breaking his neck or ripping his hair off.

He held your thighs with his hands, making sure you’d stay up, and then moved towards the others.

Peter was the first one to go down; both because you and Lily teamed up against him and because Remus had began to grow very tired of holding him.

Then it was yours and Lily’s turn to try and throw eachoter in the water; and you were determined to win to get back at her for forcing you into this game in the first place. Which you eventually did.

“Yes!”, you screamed with a laugh as Lily fell backwards dragging James with her, and earned a round of applause from Remus and Peter who were laying on their blankets and watching the game from over there.

Sirius held out his hand to you, to give you a high five, as he celebrated, before gently diving off his back and into the water with a backflip.

You both laughed together and then he teased you “Told you we’d be fine, you could trust me more.”

“I don’t think I will Black, this was a one time thing for both our sakes.”, you replied teasing him back.

Before leaving you alone and returning to his friends he dived in the water, grabbed your legs and sank you down with him; causing you to let out a surprised scream once you realized what he was doing.

You reached the surface together, your bodies close to eachother and your faces a breath away. As you realized how close you were, you splashed his face with water, while he tried to apologize.

After the day at the Lake, Sirius realized that he didn’t hate you as much. It still annoyed him how you wouldn’t acknowledged his existence when you were together, or how you would talk to everyone but him at parties. And you would better not get him started on quidditch matches and how you cheered for everyone else, but never him.

Bloody Moony had been right, he was obsessing over you, and for what? Why did he care that you didn’t like him. Many people liked him- loved him even.

Come to think of it, he was better off hating you, but now he couldn’t. No, now he had grown to know you. And he had decided you were, likable.

You were smart and funny, he had to give you that.

In charms he would always watch how you would cast the spells, methodically and calm. The way your mouth voiced the words was well, beautiful. And there was one time, when a group of Slytherins had stopped you, Alice and Remus in the corridors. James and him were talking to a group of Hufflepuffs for their upcoming quidditch game and he only saw you from afar. He didn’t like the way your eyebrows furrowed as you listened to the boys talking to you, nor the way your body had taken a defensive stand. He wished he could walk up to them and hex them out of Scotland, but he had no business doing that, he didn’t understand why he even cared that much.

But, why couldn’t he stop glancing over at your form, and loosen the grip on his wand?

Fuck it, he thought and muttered an “excuse me”, to James and the others while walking over you.

Before he could say anything though, and get into any trouble, he heard your voice, strict and irritated “Rosier, I’ve honestly grown tired of the blood purity bullshit, don’t get me wrong, insulting you was fun for the first two years, but we are graduating in a few months, maybe study for NEWTS, get a hobby, remove the stick from your ass?”

He smiled then, as he watched Rosiers face turn purple from trying to come up with an insult, and paid attention to your face, confident and smug.

He watched awestruck as you giggled with your friends, telling himself that this version of you; the relaxed and happy one is his favorite and he really wanted to see it more often.

He watched as you played chess with Peter and tried talking to you, but you were too focused to pay attention to him. He also tried commenting while you discussed with Remus, about the books you were reading, but admittedly he had no clue what he was talking about and you just stared at him, without saying anything back. 

It was hopeless; he couldn’t do anything to get you to talk to him, pay attention to him. He didn’t remember making friends to be that hard. He thought he was likable, and interesting but now he questioned everything.

One morning, during Slughorns potions class he woke up to the sight of you sitting next to him and whispering “James asked me to switch seats so he could sit next to Lily, for the Amortentia potion.”

“Oh, right okay.”, he replied back still half-asleep  “Wait, what potion are we making today?” “Amor-” you began to say

“Amortentia Mister Black,” interrupted professor Slughorn “And thank you for waking up to join us, it truly is an honor.”

“Now, who here can tell me what this potion is?” 

“Yes miss Evans?”, and as Lily started explaining Sirius felt his eyelids growing heavy once again.

The next time he woke up, was to the smell of his favorite pastries, the ones that Euphemia Potter made him every summer. He almost forgot he was in Potions class and thought he was laying in the Potters backyard, being served delicious strawberry muffins, but then he scented something different; less familiar but he could swear he’d smelled it before.

Suddenly the scent of oranges and hibiscus, overflowed his senses and he could clearly remember what it reminded him of. 

He thought back to the day at the Lake and how your body smelled on top of him. Then he was reminded of the way you smell every time he would tower over you in your chess games, or when you would be sat in the couch of his common room; analyzing literature with Remus. 

His Amortentia smells like you. You.

His eyes open fully now, and he can see the cauldron professor Slughorn has placed in front of him, while looking at him disapprovingly. As he turns his head he gets a glimpse of you, trying to gently reach the cauldron and smell the potion. 

Professor Slughorn calls you first and asks what you smelled.

You hesitated at first, and tapped your fingers on the desk nervously, “I smell old books and seasalt.”, he heard you say. He definitely does not smell like seasalt or old books. Brilliant, not embarrassing in the slightest bit. Of course he would fall for a girl, who didn’t give two shits about him, barely acknowledged him and looked at him as if he’d murdered her entire family. He desperately needed to take care of his mommy issues after graduation. 

“What about you, mister Black?”, asked Slughorn

“Strawberry muffins.” He said disappointed and under his breath, and then looked at you, wondering how he ended up in this situation.

A sunny Saturday morning, he found Remus sitting under a tree reading another muggle book of his, -about a woman who enjoyed walking and a man who loved her but despised her family?-

“Moony.”, he said as he sat beside Remus

“Padfoot.”, his friend replied, eyes glued to the book in his hands

“You remember that conversation we had about Lily’s best friend, you know the one-“

“In my little book club? Yes.”

“Well, complications have arisen.”

Remus shut his book and asked his friend “Complications?” 

“Yes.”

“What kind of complications.”

“I am glad you asked Moony, by the way, here is a chocolate bar I brought for you.”, he said handing out the sweet, which Remus cautiously accepted

“Well, you remember how I thought she hated me?” He waited for his friend to nod before continuing “For one, I haven’t made any progress with that and also I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I like her.”

“You like her.”

“Yes, painfully so.”

“Right, and- the complications?”

“I just told you.”

“No, you told me you like her, I don’t see anything complicated there, in fact I could’ve told you, you liked her months ago.”, Remus replied, chewing on his chocolate

“You are no help”, sighed Sirius dramatically

“Have you considered, I don’t know, talking to her?”

“Are you mental? Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Did you not hear the part where she can’t stand me?”

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know Moony, I thought you would know what I should do, has she told you if she likes anyone? Old books and seasalt, Old books and seasalt, old boo-”

“Wait a minute.”, Sirius muttered to himself and jumped at Remus sniffing him shamelessly.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Stand still, I am trying to figure out something, maybe if I turn into Padfoot-”

“She doesn’t like me you git! Stay away.”, his friend shoved him away

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“But how sure-”

“Okay enough, I am leaving and you need to talk to her, because you are ridiculous and insufferable” he said to his best friend as he quickly stood up, taking his book and chocolate with him leaving a confused Sirius behind.

The next few weeks were a complete torment for Sirius, how could he of all people be pining over a girl; especially a girl he couldn’t stand in the beginning of the school year. Humiliating, that’s what he would call this new…situation.

He would never talk to you about his feelings, and what exactly was there to say. “Hello, I can’t really stand you and want to hex you every time you frown at me but I also want to grab your face and snog you until you forget your name?” No, he couldn’t say that.

Instead, he did everything he could to forget about you. He started going out with girls, but always ended up comparing them to you. Which resulted in; him absolutely shitfaced crying to them about you and the misery of unrequited feelings. He thought then, studying and quidditch would help distract him from his infatuation, but he could never focus and your face and voice infected his mind.

“That is enough” snapped Remus one day “You are being ridiculous.”

“You don’t understand Moony, I feel ill. This is killing me.”

“You are so dramatic.”, sighed Peter “Just confess already, let her reject you and then move on.”

“Sod off.” Sirius replied “Honestly Moony, this was supposed to stay between us. Why did you tell him?”

“Because I cannot deal with you on my own. And Peter is right, you should tell her.”

“Tell who what?” Asked a grinning James who’d just arrived in the dorm room.

“Our dear friend here, is having girl issues.”, an amused Peter said

“Who? Remus? Who is the girl?”

“Not me.” Remus replied and pointed at Sirius 

“Padfoot?” James asked with an open mouth “You, are having girl problems? How the bloody hell did that happen?”

Sirius replied with a deep sigh and buried his head in his pillow.

“Unrequited love.” Peter laughed 

“There is no girl in this castle who isn’t in love with Sirius.” Said James “Well, apart from Pomfrey, Minnie and well your cousins. Even though that last one is up for debate.”

The boy in question, raised his head and gave his friend a disgusted look before saying “Well, Prongs, sorry to shock you but there is.”

“Well who is she? Tell me.”

Sirius stood up dramatically and walked to his friend. He gave him a desperate look and then whispered your name in his ear.

James said nothing, for a few seconds “Prongs? Are you still there?”, his friends asked and then James let out a loud laugh; loud enough for the creatures deep inside the Lake to hear him.

“Are you done?” Sirius said impatiently 

“Yeah, I just need to catch my breath.” Replied James giggling causing Sirius to roll his eyes.

“You should definitely tell her.” He said as he calmed down and sat between Remus and Peter

“So you can laugh some more?” Sirius said annoyed 

“Just tell her mate, school will be over in a month, you’ll never see her again if things go bad.”

“But they will go bad, haven’t you seen how she looks at me? Like she hates me.”

“Yeah, well you weren’t a fan of her either, and now look at you."

“I didn’t like her because of her stupid pouty mouth and the way her eyes are so… so beautiful.”, he said theatrically

That last comment caused the boys to laugh at their friend

“This is such a disaster, Prongs, mate you need to help me. Obliviate me and save me from this- this utter humiliation.”, he said shaking his friend

“Hey. Grow some courage and tell her or stay miserable. Now, I need to see my girlfriend, excuse me, lads.”

With that, the three boys looked at eachother in silence, which Sirius eventually broke as he asked “How would I even tell her?”

“Just wait for the right moment”, the boys advised him. But the right moment never came. You were never alone, and when you were alone you were either in the library or the common room with your face buried in a book. 

And that is why Sirius Black found himself tonight, on a Friday night, walking around the corridors of the castle alone, whilst thinking about everything and nothing.

He felt nostalgic about graduating and never seeing this place again and he also felt a pain in his chest as he thought of you and how much he wanted to have you, while you wanted nothing to do with him. 

As he reached the common room he prepared himself to quickly flee to his dorm and sleep off the nights melancholia, but soon he heard laughter and loud voices that informed him escaping wouldn’t be that easy.

“Paaadfoot”, exclaimed a drunk James “Join us, come on.”

“Yes, we were about to play truth or dare, come!” Lily said laughing

As he got closer to his group of friends he caught you sitting there, with your drink in your hand looking at him awkwardly. He hadn’t seen you like this, relaxed, in a long time; and he couldn’t blame you, NEWTS were a breath away and everyone was stressed. Your eyes looked tired and your hair was messy, but you still looked beautiful. He was surprised he didn’t notice it sooner; how pretty you actually are.

“I was heading upstairs, wanted to go to sleep early tonight.”, he said as an excuse, wanting to be alone

“Stay.”, he heard your voice as he made his way up the stairs and then froze in place “If Lily forced me to join and not study, you have to play also.”, you quickly said when you noticed his eyes glued at yours

“Alright” he muttered and took a seat between Remus and Peter

After a few rounds of James asking Lily when she first started liking him, and then Lily daring Peter to do his best impersonation of McGonagall it was Peters turn to ask Sirius;

“Out of every prank we’ve done all these years, which one is your favorite?”

He laughed as he remembered all the memories he’d made in this castle, not all of them were good, but they were his and he cherished every single one of them. And what made them even more special was that the people he’d spent his best years with, were sitting next to him, at this moment.

“Ah there are so many, maybe the feathers? Or or the red paint one.”

“Red paint? Asked Lily 

“Ooooh yes, that was a good one, when was it again? Second year?”, asked James

“Third.”, you said

“Yeah thi- wait how do you know?”, Sirius quickly said confused

“Because I was the one covered in red and golden paint you moron!”, you shouted

“What?”

“Girls Bathrooms, in the dungeons. I got in perfectly fine and left drenched in Gryffindors colors, yay for house pride.”, you said amused

“Wait, how?”

“What was the prank?” Asked Lily confused

“We jinxed the bathroom stalls, but in the boys bathroom, thinking Malfoy and his friends would end up with our House colors.”, Remus replied

“How did you end up-”

“Red and Gold? I don’t know Sirius, maybe you jinxed the wrong bathroom.”, you said amused

“What did you do after?”, asked Lily, who was laughing now

“I ran to my dorm, but not before Rosier and his friends saw me. I was called “lion cub” for the rest of the year!”

You exclaimed making everyone laugh; everyone except for Sirius. Is it because of a stupid prank that you hated him? He remembers now how you would look at him with distaste when he mentioned his pranks to you. His eyes were serious and his voice strict as he called out your name.

“We need to talk, outside.” He stood up waiting for you to follow him, but was met with your confused stare “Please”.

You were leaning against the walls with your hands crossed in front of you, as Sirius paced nervously before asking.

“That stupid prank is the reason you hate me?”

“What? I- no”, you said

“It is, isn’t it? You’ve been mad at me all these years for an idiotic mistake I made at 14!”, he said annoyed

“I have not been mad, I was at the start yes, but I got over it that same year when Malfoy ratted on you and you had to clean out the hippogriff stalls.”, you replied with a sincere smile, that caused him to grin before he asked again.

“Then why do you hate me, still?”

“I don’t hate you, why would you think I hate you?”

“Have you seen the way you look at me; like I’ve Avadaed your whole family. And you never talk to me, and when you do you’re sarcastic, as if you hate my whole being, but you talk to everyone else just fine.”, he said finally letting it all out, leaving his stupid crush out of course.

You remained silent for a while, thinking about what he had said to you, and what you would say back, or rather how to say what you wanted to say.

“I, sorry. Sorry about third year and sorry about now, its fine I’ve had a weird week.”, he quickly said, feeling bad for laying it all on you and causing you to be uncomfortable. He made his way back to his dorm, but you were quick enough to catch his arm and stop him.

“No, wait. You are right, I do treat you like that, and I am sorry. I don’t hate you, though.”

“Then what is it?” he asked confused

“I- you can’t laugh at me.”

“Okay.”

“I like you.”, you said at first and then continued “It was a stupid crush at first, but then we talked and you were funny and interesting and I felt like an idiot for liking you because you are you-“

His laugh was what interrupted your speech. And in all honesty, he couldn’t stop himself, everything seemed so ridiculous then. How he pined over you, and how dramatic he was being all his time. And, you, you liked him and that piece of information felt like a huge weight off his chest. Now, everything made sense. Before he could tell you everything and confess his feelings your angry voice stopped him.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh.”, you exclaimed and starting walking away from him

“No wait you don’t understand.” He said running after you

“Sod off, now that I think about it, I do hate you”

“Wait!” He begged

“No, goodni-” you replied without looking at him, but suddenly his hand was wrapped around your wrist and then his lips were on yours.

“What?”, you let out confused as you parted from him

“Sorry I didn’t know how else to-” , he said breathless before you kissed him again, grabbing his tie and wrapping your arms around him this time. He closed his eyes, and let himself bury his fingers in your hair and waist, pulling you impossibly close to him. Not wanting to let go, ever. You both sighed as you stopped, because of your lungs begging for air. You smiled at eachother and he looped his arm around your shoulders as you two walked down the corridors.

“So you don’t hate me.”, he said softly 

“No, and you, I take it, don’t hate me either.”, you replied with a smile and turned your head to rest at his shoulder.

“I tolerate you.” He joked and you raised your head and bumped into him with your shoulder. To which, he replied with a laugh and a soft kiss.

“I like you, incredibly much.”, he whispered to your lips.

You ended up underneath the tree by the lake, with your back to his chest and your hands intertwined.

“So, who smells like seasalt and old books, because I know I don’t.” He whispered in your hair

“It’s a bit early to start getting jealous isn’t it?” You grinned “I’ll tell you, when you tell me who smells like strawberry muffins.” 

“Is it that Hufflepuff girl talking to you at that party last month, because you both should know; I don’t share.”, you joked and turned your head back to look at him. He laughed at that and kissed your forehead before saying.

“Alright darling, I’ll let mrs. Potter know."

“What?” You said and the realization caused you both to laugh.

"Old books, sea salt and your cologne. That’s what I smelled”, you confessed and he looped his arms around you, keeping you close, so close you could feel the beat of his heart.

“Want to go back?”, you whispered after a while

“No, not yet, I want you to myself, for a little bit more.”, he said as he closed his eyes and you hugged his arms before answering with a satisfied smile “You can have me for a lot longer than that.”

fin

feedback and criticism are welcome and needed 🖤

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #enemies to friends to lovers #idiots to lovers #remus being a constant mood #inspired by a Taylor swift song

[kissitbttr]

ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️

-sapphic loser

“i said no, miguel”

he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,

“why nooot”

“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”

“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”

“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”

miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,

his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”

“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”

“they’re being annoying right now”

you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”

his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,

“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”

“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”

that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,

“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”

“god! miguel you are so—

-

“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”

yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,

his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.

miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,

“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it

“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”

your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”

miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,

god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,

“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”

it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,

“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.

“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“

he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.

he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.

“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”

his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,

“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,

“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”

“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,

“know your limits, baby”

#this is so messy omg #i hate this one tbh lmao #frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs