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hellishjoel · 6 months

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7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M.

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident.

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked.

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t.

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he.

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable.

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now.

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight.

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary.

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now.

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road.

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night.

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover.

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light.

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck.

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself.

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave.

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.”

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries.

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers.

“Gross, Joel.”

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks.

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there.

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands.

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once. It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word.

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you.

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either.

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her.

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.”

Yes, I do, you think.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors.

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?”

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you.

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?”

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything.

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.”

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more.

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?”

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance.

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things.

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack.

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man.

“Damn shame.” He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on.

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser.

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person.

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.”

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused.

“Course it is.”

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you.

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional.

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.”

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing.

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug.

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away.

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat.

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear.

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest.

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks.

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.”

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong.

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God.

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.”

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made.

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to.

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously.

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy.

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message:

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away.

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself.

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose.

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake.

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach.

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center.

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance.

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room.

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky.

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it.

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in.

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free.

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water.

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile.

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.”

His joke elicits a giggle from you.

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold.

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.”

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat.

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts.

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently. “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk.

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body.

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you.

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone.

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.”

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more.

He offers you his hand, one final offer. “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.”

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest.

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time.

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength.

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry.

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.”

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron. He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length.

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles.

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass.

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more.

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together.

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle.

“I like that I’m the one causing it.”

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room.

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot.

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.”

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in.

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.”

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth.

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait.

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile.

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together.

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.”

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort.

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin.

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall.

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant.

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman.

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth.

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh.

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears.

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man.

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand.

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly.

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace.

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake.

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh.

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk.

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps.

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon.

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm.

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.”

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped.

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.”

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls.

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower.

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside.

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again.

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled.

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on.

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass.

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation.

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head.

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath.

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim.

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch.

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore.

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin.

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower.

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue.

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy.

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before.

All you know is Joel Miller.

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears.

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip.

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision.

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation.

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come.

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you.

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry.

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out.

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug.

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now.

“You’re alright.” He assures.

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug.

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek.

“Y’alright? Feel good?”

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.”

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel.

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms.

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it.

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring.

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you.

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head.

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief.

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does.

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress.

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger.

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan.

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message.

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask.

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out.

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

here's my masterlist!

follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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feelbokkie · 9 months

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❤︎ 스트레이 키즈 OT8 M.list ❤︎

Back to ☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

Key:

💛 = fluff 💙 = angst 🧡 = crack ❤️ = requested 💜 = completed 💚 = in progress/wip

❤︎ Reactions/Headcanons ❤︎

♥︎ When he has to keep your relationship a secret 💛

♥︎ When he accidentially leaks your secret relationship 💛 💙 ❤️

♥︎ When you fall asleep video chatting 💛

♥︎ Random dates with BF!SKZ 💛

♥︎ Reaction to Reader Having a Pen Spinning/Coin Roll Skill 💛 ❤️

♥︎ How he comforts you 💛

♥︎ Habits of his that you adopt 💛

♥︎ When you have food allergies 💛

♥︎ When opposites attract 💛 ❤️

♥︎ When you're both competing in the ISAC 💛 ❤️

♥︎ Things SKZ does when you're pregnant 💛

♥︎ Autumn dates with skz 💛

♥︎ SKZ as autumn activities 💚 💛

♥︎ Going through a haunted house with skz 💚 💛

♥︎ Winter dates with SKZ 💛

♥︎ SKZ as winter activities 💚 💛

♥︎ SKZ as winter tropes 💚 💛

♥︎ Christmas morning with SKZ 💚 💛

♥︎ When you’re handcuffed to them 💚 💛

♥︎ January 14th: Diary Day 💛

♥︎ February 14th: Valentine's Day 💛

♥︎ March 14th: White Day 💛

❤︎ Imagines ❤︎

♥︎ BF!SKZ reacting to idol!reader fainting on stage (Hyung Line) 💛 💙 ❤️

♥︎ BF!SKZ reacting to idol!reader fainting on stage (Maknae Line) 💛 💙 ❤️

♥︎ When You're Sick 💛

♥︎ When They Notice That You're Not Around 💛 💙 ❤️

♥︎ BF!SKZ Jokes About Your Insecurity Accidentally 💛 💙 ❤️

♥︎ Touch starved reader 💛

♥︎ I can't be no superman, but for you I'll be superhuman 💚 💛 💙

♥︎ Halloween movies with SKZ 💚 💛

❤︎ Social Media AUs ❤︎

♡ Best Friend!SKZ ♡

♥︎ Asking reader what they saved their number as 💛

♥︎ Going to a SKZ concert without telling them 💛

-> (Hyung Line)

-> (Maknae Line)

♥︎ Reacting to their solo songs 💛

-> (Hyung Line)

-> (Maknae Line)

♥︎ Random Texts 💛

♥︎ Texting “What would you say if I lost my memories?” 💛

♥︎ "If my phone is smoking" Prank 💛

♥︎ Texting “What are we?” 💙

♥︎ “What are we?” (Part 2) 💛 💙

-> (Hyung Line)

-> (Maknae Line)

♥︎ Texting "Sorry, Wrong Person" 💛

♥︎ Texting Bff!Skz about Fan Fics 💛

♥︎ Telling Bff!Skz that you need space 💙

♥︎ BFF!SKZ Texting You When You're Down 💛 💙

♥︎ Texting BFF!SKZ about a new guy 💛

♥︎ Random Texts Part 2 💛

♡ Boyfriend!SKZ ♡

♥︎ “You left your phone here” prank 💛

♥︎ Distancing yourself from BF!SKZ after receiving hate (Part 1) 💙

♥︎ Distancing yourself from BF!SKZ after receiving hate (Part 2) 💛 💙

-> (Hyung Line)

-> (Maknae Line)

♥︎ Asking reader what they saved their number as 💛

♥︎ Random Texts 💛

♥︎ Texting "We have a Problem" 💛 ❤️

♥︎ Leaving BF!SKZ on read after he says "I Love You" 💛 ❤️

♥︎ Random Texts Part 2 💛

♥︎ BF!SKZ Thinking Reader is Pregnant 💛

♥︎ Telling Them You're Actually Pregnant 💛

♥︎ Texting "Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?" 💛

♥︎ Bf!SKZ Texting JYPE employee!Reader After Catching You Wearing Another Idol's Merch at Work 💛

♥︎ Texting "What would I do without you?" 💛

♥︎ Talking to BF!SKZ about couple costumes 💛

♥︎ Texting Boyfriend!SKZ “If I was a rock” 💛

♥︎ Random Texts Part 3 💛

♥︎ Easter Baskets from BF!SKZ 💛

♥︎ Random Texts with Dad!SKZ 💛

♥︎ Text w/Boyfriend!SKZ During Exam Season 💛

♥︎ Random Texts with Dad!SKZ 💛 🧡

❤︎ Fantasy AUs ❤︎

♥︎ How he would react to you being a witch 💛

♥︎ How he would react to you being a werewolf 💛

♥︎ How he would react to you being a vampire 💛

♥︎ How he would react to you being a mermaid/siren 💛 ❤️

❤︎ Mini Series ❤︎

♥︎ Life is Like a Crayon Box (a skz mini series) 💚 💛 💙

♥︎ Seasons of Love (a skz mini series) 💚 💛 💙

♥︎ 13 Days of Feeltober 💚 💛 💙

♥︎ 12 Days of Feelbokkiemas 💚 💛

♥︎ Feelbokkie's Playlist 💛 💙

♥︎ Love Day! 💚 💛

—

Buy me a coffee?

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iwanty0uu · 3 months

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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Can I ~Kehlani

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯ ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

“This shit so good like it should be illegal” you said to yourself after discretely taking a puff out of the pre-rolls connie left for you, feet over the arm of the huge chair that held you inside of the common rooms of your college. Notebooks of all colors displayed messily along the table in front of you, filled with doodles of the brain, and respiratory system. You were trying to prepare yourself for your pre-med exam in two days, but you couldn’t help think about him.. How he made you touch the back-board of his bed like you was a free throw, how he spent so much time with you that you found yourself…“Little Miss Scholar” using all his lingo,how his ex-girlfriend claimed he lied when he told u he was single. The way his hands slid in between your thighs, fitting like a puzzle piece that you never knew was missing. How he always said “a sweet girl like you shouldn’t know how to fuck like this cus you fuck me like a porn star.. u sure that I’m ya only one?” How he intertwined his longer tattooed fingers with your own freshly polished ones, and squeezed tighter as he heard the mumbles of your “friends” asking “how the fuck he know her home-body ass?” How he left you in shambles everytime his tongue grazed against your clit, shutting your mouth with his hand when you got too loud in the dorms.

You felt as if your pen went dry because of your day dreaming, you scribbled on the paper attempting to gain some ink flow, but managed to get lost in your thoughts again..

The thoughts about him making you squirt, leaving the juices on his pretty white tee shirt, the same night he convinced you to make a sex tape cus he strokes himself to the bloopers..How your velvety walls clenched around his pink tip as a reward, almost as if they were saying “you lasted long babe you’re a trooper.” Gripping him, forcing him to cum inside you.. “Don’t pull out my love, make me proud n thug it out” you would whisper in his ear, running butterfly kisses along his temple. How he then massaged your clit, squeezing the fat of your thighs, while pussy drunk, muttering about how you’re a keeper..But not just because of how you fucked him senseless considering you didn’t partake in those activities, but because it was never hard to read him, to understand him. He wasn’t like everyone else, and you realized this when you didn’t automatically dislike him, it makes you feel even more confident in your relationship knowing how he always says “Baby i need ya” and not in sexual ways. He made it known that he cared about you because he changed his ways so you can mold into him, gave you room to grow and de-cluttered himself so you could use him as extra space when you needed it, when you were stressed and the burden was too much. How he always thought of you and made it obvious in everything that he did even when he didn’t realize it.

“Damn…” you thought wrapping up your daydream realizing that an hour more than passed. The suns rays danced through the huge windows, slightly blinding you almost as if it was a punishment for getting yourself distracted. Eyes peering at the still notebooks below you, waiting to be used, basically taking up dust because of your negligence. The red water bottle resting in your lap was snatched up as you took sips, ignoring the obnoxious sound of the doors opening in the comms, but off of instinct, you still looked up and made eye contact with the tall man who stood in front of the sun..As if he became your sun for a second, and as he came closer, you noticed the buzz-cut and relaxed, resting the water bottle on the table, trying to stop the smile that crept onto your face…

“Hey, can I come over? Is it okay if I stop by n see u later?”……….

↺ ᴿᴱᴾᴱᴬᵀ ‖ ᴾᴬᵁˢᴱ ≫ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ˢᴼᴺᴳ

this one if for you pook! i highlighted my fav lyrics🥸 @soulaanshere ~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

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I lost one of my chickens :( she was caught and carried away by a fox... I’ve been growing complacent about my chickens’ safety I think because we’ve only had one other attack before, a goshawk that swooped in abruptly (unsuccessfully), but no fox sightings nearby so I’ve been assuming Pandolf was a great deterrent. Which he is, just not foolproof. I’ve talked to some people in town about this and they were pretty philosophical about foxes stealing chickens, like “it’s the tribute we pay to woodland animals, it’s just a few hens here and there.” I don’t begrudge the fox for being a fox, if anything I have a renewed respect for foxes because everyone I talked to proceeded to give me their best / worst fox stories, and most of them involved foxes outsmarting humans (learning people’s habits / timetables, opening latches, faking a limp...) Still I feel terrible for my hen, she was only three. RIP Cordy :( You’ll be remembered fondly... (except by the cats.) I feel bad for the other hen too, who just lost her pal!

When I said that last thing, one of my neighbours jumped on the opportunity to try and convince me again to accept a rooster from him. He had a rooster baby boom last summer and I’ve been telling him for months that I don’t need a rooster, I don’t want to raise chickens I just want eggs, and his new argument was that a rooster would protect my hen (or if it comes to that, would heroically sacrifice himself rather than let the hen be eaten—I’m sceptical...) I asked around for a young hen but there aren’t any to be had in this season, so my remaining one is going to be alone until the spring, and my neighbour said she’d get stressed and male company is better than no company. (I wish I could ask my hen what she wants! Maybe she’s penning A Coop Of One’s Own as we speak.) I said the rooster was more likely to stress her out and harass her and he said nah they’re free ranging all day, it’ll be fine, and he’s young so your adult hen will boss him around. I was like, but then will he be any good at protecting her? etc. etc. and after a while I caved in.

When I told her about this on the phone my mum sighed “you’re terrible at saying no”—excuse me, I said no so many times and the guy just kept ploughing on until he could foist a rooster upon me. I’m good at saying no, other people are terrible at hearing it! I reassured her that I had only agreed to take the rooster for a short probationary period, and if he bothers my hen too much I’ll drive him back to his native farm. My mum was like “Drive him back? look I’m sorry I raised you as a city kid but there’s no need to waste gas on driving a rooster around, I’ll have no qualms about wringing his neck for dinner if he’s more trouble than he’s worth.” The rooster’s fate is not sealed though, if he is anywhere from vaguely useful to not actively problematic I’ll keep him, so we’ll see...!

#if i return him where he came from he'll end up eaten anyway #prove yourself rooster! escape your fate #to go back to the fox attack; my other chicken went to hide in the barn (which is always open and they were not far from it)#and i thought she'd been eaten too because i couldn't find her anywhere. until i heard her clucking to herself anxiously #i called her and she clucked louder in response but refused to come out of her hiding place #after 10min of playing marco polo with a chicken in the barn i finally found her huddled at the bottom of #the large basket i use to store kindling #and pandolf & i went to look for cordy although i didn't have any hope #and we ended up finding feathers quite far away in the woods #i was very impressed by pandolf's ability to follow the fox's smell ! i've been teaching him 'cherche' but he's not that good at tracking #or not motivated enough when it's just for fun #but since he failed in his duty to protect his flock i guess he was suddenly very determined to be #a good dog in some other way and he was sniffing the ground so seriously #sorry the post was already long and i'm writing another one in the tags!

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fanfic-recs-01 · 10 days

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Miraculous LadyBug fic recs

This is a list of Miraculous Ladybug fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Fair warning his is mostly going to be Felix/Marinette and Damian Wayne/Marinette.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Felix Graham De Vanily

Hey, Little Songbird by charlietheepic7

~Really, Felix couldn't believe his cousin sometimes. Marinette was talented, beautiful, kind, and had a crush on Adrien bigger than the mansion, yet Adrien was blind to the treasure right in front of him. "Just a friend," indeed.

Well, if Adrien wasn't going to do anything, it wouldn't matter if Felix... snatched her up?~

Welcome To The Back by Geeeny

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng sits alone in the back. Until she doesn't.~

birds of a feather by WithLovePoohBear

~When Mme Bustier’s class gets a new student, Marinette might just finally find true friends who love and support her for who she is.

But more accurately, she finds her home.~

Pen Pals by That_Kwami_plagg

~Marinette and Felix have been Pen Pals for two years. She tells him everything. All of the abuse, lies and manipulations. He became her sanctuary, and her his. What happens when Felix moves to France? Can he help her through her struggles, or will he be another victim of Lila?~

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Damian Wayne

She’s Sunshine, She’s Grace, She’ll Punch You in the Face by Brinxiethebear

~Marinette struggles to stay happy nowadays but what better way to change your mood than with a change of location? Adrien gave up his miraculous so he could start fresh. After all, his dad was in prison for being the super villain Hawkmoth and his other caretaker Nathalie died from over use of a broken Miraculous. So now Marinette is the guardian of the miraculous. ~

for us to collide by LadyLiterature

~The story of Marinette stumbling upon the illustrious Wayne family over and over again, as well as the more infamous Bats, over the course of her many visits to Gotham. She, of course, charms the whole lot of them and finds that the same is true in the reverse.~

A Robin and His Lady by ProudGeek4Ever

~Marinette lost her friends to Lila, Adrien was long forgotten and Chat Noir kept getting more irresponsible. Being a teenage superhero was stressfull, but Marinette's life takes a turn for the better when a chance meeting in Gotham changes everything. Damian changes everything.~

No, Mr. Wayne, You Can't Adopt Me! by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime)

~Bruce's personal assistant is scarily competent---she seems to know the best decision at each time, predict emergencies, and is an expert at handling all of his children. But what if there's more to her than meets the eye?~

More Than One Secret by Tyshian

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has Secrets. Damian Wayne has Secrets. The pair together have Secrets.~

Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd by crazyjc

~Alright, this is based on laraceleste's Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception—Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7.~

It's Just Indifference by dontyoublink

~Marinette thought she would just get some inspiration for her designs when she headed to the park. As luck would have it, she also meets four (interesting? unique? slightly insane?) Americans. Frisbee, ice cream, and much-needed conversations ensue.~

World's Greatest Detectives, My Ass by Appleberry84

~Marinette figures out the Batfam's identities and decides to torture them.~

Leave it Behind by ShannonEsmerelda

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has grown tired of Paris, and the miracle box was no longer safe there. It'd been active in the country for too long, seen too much damage. She needed to find a place for both her and the kwami's to heal, while still having the ability to be a hero. So, why not Gotham? The city had enough crime for both her and the bat family without getting in each others way, right? Right?~

Report to HR by SimplyAnotherWriter

~Look; Bruce liked Marinette. If the girl hadn’t already had loving and adoring parents that had spotless records and nothing incriminating about them whatsoever(Bruce had checked long and hard), he probably would have adopted the girl just like he had the others.

However, things wouldn't remain this perfect if Damian continued to try and mess it up by SCARING the poor girl!~

The Sun Who Lit Up The Night Sky by FandomQueen10325, leaping_lizard_babe

~4 months after the defeat of Hawkmoth, the akuma class wins a trip to Gotham. While they are there, Marinette keeps attracting bad luck, and can never seem to stay out of trouble. The Batfam is very interested when they learn about what had happened in Paris, so they question ladybug.~

Travels of Passion by StarShine583

~When people as famous as the Waynes come to visit your city, the most you'd expect to get from them is a quick little smile. A hand shake if you're in the right place at the right time and extremely lucky. Marinette didn't really expect to get either, and she certainly didn't expect to get what she actually got.~

Of Birds and Bugs (revising and rewriting) by orphan_account

~Marinette was a busy girl. Between her idol work as NeTi, and her duty as Ladybug, it was hard to do everything else, like being a good class president. Still, she was able to pull through.

Somehow, the class get's a trip to Gotham, sponsored by Bruce Wayne himself, and it looked like Marinette would be able to take a break for once.~

Dinner at Wayne Manor by littlefleetinglight for

~In the front hall standing in a line was Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damien; in that orders, with Alfred standing in front of them like an officer in front of his troops.

“Now, when Ms.Marinette arrives there will be no inappropriate language, no crude gestures or noises, and there will be no interrogation. Do you gentlemen understand?”~

#SunshineOfGotham by sixtyeightdays

~All of Gotham knows Marinette, the Sunshine who's made her way into everyone's hearts. But so what if all of Gotham knows Marinette? Does her class know that they know Marinette? Of course not, why would they! But, well, let's see how they find out.~

Rockin’ the House by littlefleetinglight for

~It was another charity gala held by the Wayne Family; this one was raising funds for art programs across the world, and because it was for art there were artists of all types from all over, including the famous Rock’n’Roll artist Jagged Stone…and his guest.~

To marry an Assassin by PL_Panda

~Marinette wakes up in a cell and later is forced to marry a member of the League of Shadows, who is also less than willing. Exactly what she was pulled in? And of course there is magic involved, so no cancellation. And apparently in Tibet ancient orders can marry minors off just like that. This was definitely not Damian's day. Or Week. Or month. He got married with a random girl...~

Who Needs Words? by AKP31E

~After the defeat of Hawkmoth and the retirement of Suhan, Marinette’s life is just getting crazier. She doesn’t know how a soulmate could ever fit into her life, and sometimes she thinks the two letters on her wrist are just the universe’s joke to her, but she knows better than to bank on it. Her soul mark isn’t even a word. Who is going to say “Tt” to her?~

History Repeats by DesertSnowQueen

~When Kitty Noire makes an appearance in Gotham, she finds herself drawn to a certain little bird whose brothers are far too entertained by this turn of events~

Magical Girl by Judysupremus

~Marinette accidentally portals into the batcave.~

The Power of Luck by FridayFirefly

~The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects, none more powerful and unpredictable than the power of Miraculous Luck. When Marinette's family relocates to Gotham, Marinette finds her Miraculous Luck leading her down a path she never would have expected, a path that leads straight to Damian Wayne.~

The events on a Saturday Morning by orphan_account

~Marinette and Damian have been in a long distance relationship for over a year with (most) of the Batfamily not knowing at all until a young girl stumbles through a portal on a Saturday morning.~

Friendly Sunshine In Gotham by M1dn1ght_Star

~Marinette is happy to be back in Gotham after a visit with Jagged several years ago. This might just end up being the perfect way to expose Lila once and for all, as a nice bonus to seeing her honorary family and boyfriend again.~

Daminette Soulmate AU by keeptellingyourselfthat

~Tradition says that your soulmate will have another tattoo, something that relates to you. When they meet you, it is said that the tattoos start glowing a bright gold.~

Calling for Help by Dramatic_Squirrel

~It's been a month since the Battle of Miracle Queen and Marinette has been struggling alone under the pressure of being the new guardian. With her training yet to have been completed, Marinette makes her first official decision as the new guardian, to ask the Justice League for help.~

serendipity by keeptellingyourselfthat

~The last time Damian AL-Ghul saw Marinette was when they were twelve. He didn't think he would see her again. So, it's a huge surprise when he stumbles upon her in WE while exposing the liar of the class from France.~

In The Wrong Bed? by San_fics

~“Like I said,” Jason yawned. “Eventually everyone in this family goes crazy.”

“I'm not crazy!” Damian protested. “She was here!”

“Maybe you just had a very realistic dream?” Dick suggested.

“I’m perfectly capable of distinguishing dreams from reality, thank you very much!” Snapped Damian. “She was real and she was in my bed!”~

Cat Cursed by TheStarfishAlien

~The Cheng family carries a curse. Every other generation carries a second form, that of a cat. Their dual nature makes it difficult for those with the curse to fit in with society. Some flee permanently into the form of the cat, while others try their hardest to pretend that their cat form does not exist. Very few find a balance in the middle.~

Secrets, Masks and Family Gatherings by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime)

~After nearly a year of being together, Damian finally decides to introduce Marinette to his family.~

living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in by another_cancer

~Marinette was an assassin named ladybug that was supposed to kill Damian, but she didn't and now they meet again years later.~

New but True by yannowhatigiveup

~Damian and Marinette are kidnapped from their lives to be betrothed to one another. Unfortunately, they were separated and missed the other greatly. Once realising that Marinette is in Gotham for a school trip, Jon, being the good friend he is, reunites them.~

Eons & Eternities by Utopian_angel

~After dedicating many life cycles to an endless conflict between chaos and order, Ra's Al Ghul decides to use his last chance to form a union.

A union between their respective heirs that will last for eons & eternities.~

Use Your Brain by Judysupremus

~Marinette and her class go to Gotham. What happens when she has to rescue Chat Noir from Batman?

The is silly, potentially crack.~

An Awkward Reveal by Miraculous_786

~Who can blame Edward Nygma for being protective over his adopted daughter?

The very daughter who was dating Damian Wayne right under his nose.~

The Bride that can Break Bones by LovesWifi

~Marinette and Damian are betrothed and that's all you need to know.~

#marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #daminette #felinette #miraculous ladybug #fic recs #felix graham de vanily

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everythingne · 3 months

Text

KINTSUGI - AKIN TO A PRIDE VERSE - MV1

When brought to panic by ruthless reporters, Reina snaps and hits a reporter out of instinct. In desperation, Hana flies Max to London help her daughter out of a depressive episode caused by Reina thinking that she's more like her father than she ever wants to be. And Max realizes some things about who you call family.

warnings: reporters grabbing reina, mentioned rumors of domestic abuse, mentions of child abuse and past/current broken metacarpal (hand) bones (wow look at me being sciency?), many assumptions about max's childhood, reina has a whole break down, reminder this isn’t a romance series, also btw I changed reina's age to make her 20 (legit go back and look LOL) and that totally isn't something for silly foreshadowing purposes no no, my comeback after going to college LMAO

I'M FUCKING SCREWED. I'm so fucking screwed. I can feel the anxiety coursing through my arms as I stand there, my teammates off to my side as we try and fight through the media pen. We weren't even supposed to be here but Ollie Bearman had decided he was bored and dragged me and Kimi Antonelli along to see some other drivers by wandering along the pit lane. We were all pretty civil with one another, save for one or two weird rivalries here or there, so we were quick to amass a group that eventually Trident broke up when they needed Richard back.

And then media had shown up, and we'd gotten quickly swarmed with no real way out.

Luckily, Kimi had called someone from the paddock to come get us and help us out so as we slowly pushed through the crowd as politely as possible, someone was actively coming to us.

And then I had gotten split off.

"Ollie!" I shouted, trying to grab his attention, but my voice is lost among those of the reporters who chase after him. How theres so many reporters here, I have no idea. It's not normal. And then again, nothing about this season really was normal because of the whole siblings thing.

"Miss Matsumoto!" someone shouts and a camera is shoved in my face, I try to keep a calm composure, nodding sharply in greeting as I try to continue through the crowd, "How are you feeling about your race tonight?"

"I think I'll be alright," I nod, pulling the rim of my hat down a bit further, "My team has grown a bit with Max's personal trainer giving us some tips for my physical training and it's been really interesting seeing how just changing my diet and training has made drive different."

"How is your relationship with Max?" Someone else shouts and a smile happily crosses my face, okay, I can do this. Just keep talking and just keep pushing forward. Do what Max taught you.

"He's been incredible, a lot kinder than people give him credit for." I make sure to point that out as I walk. A few more questions about Max are tossed my way, what exactly he's been teaching me (how to train for Formula One specifically, different ways to keep my brain sharp, physical training adjustments, how to cope with the drastic difference between F2 and F1, which both Logan and Oscar had already told me about), if I've met Kelly and Penelope (I have, Penelope adores me for some reason), who I've met in Red Bull (Daniel, Max, Christian, Geri, a few engineers, some other drivers who now raced for other teams, and such.)

And then someone asks something that makes my stomach crawl, "Can you tell us why we haven't seen your father in the paddock this season even though his racing company is one of your main sponsors?"

"It's only the third race. I'm sure we'll see him in Sakura." I smile, trying to keep my voice level, but the reporters have found something to latch onto. I took too long to respond.

"How is your relationship with him been impacted since moving in with your mother?"

"The timezones make it hard to speak, but he is still my father, so," I shrug, trying now a bit more desperately to shove through the crowd. They're not letting me go. I can hear Kimi telling someone to move, his voice is sharp and annoyed, but the reporter doesn't listen.

"Is it true your father abused you?"

"What?" I gape, but reporters flash cameras and shove over each other to get to me. My reaction fuels them.

"Is Project Matsumoto a real thing, or just a mimic of Project Verstappen?"

I can't even recover from the last question as I gasp out, "I'm sorry?" I don't even know what they're referencing.

"Did Red Bull pick you to be Max's sibling due to your similar childhoods?"

I can't get words out now, the berating is on, and all I can do is try and back away. I can see Ollie waving a hand, trying to beckon me through the crowd, and now FIA officials are coming to move the reporters away. It's a mess of shoving and screaming, people in my face as they repeat themselves until their voices pitch to shouts and screams. I can't move through because any step I take is immediately countered by a shift in the tide of cameras and voices, blocking my path.

"Was your fathers attitude is Sakhir last year reflective of your childhood with him?" "How did your parents divorce effect your racing career?" "Is it hard to be living away from your Japanese roots?" "Why did your mother accuse your father of emotional and physical domestic abuse when they divorced?"

A reporter steps forward and grabs me and I rip back from him. Ollie's shoving a reporter to the side, trying to grab me before he's closed off by the ocean of people around me.

"Is the rumor of your fathers mistreatment of you true?" The man asks again, trying to grab me and I stumble back in a panic. My hat is pulled off by him instead, and I just let it go as I bring my arms to my stomach and wrap around myself.

"Please! Everyone, wait--!" I cry out, the obvious panic in my tone making my skin flame with embarrassment.

"Answer the question!" The same man shouts, shoving a reporter aside as raising his hand with his microphone. All I see is the raising of a fist in the shadow of my father, and my brain reacts before I can really think about what I'm about to do.

Crack!

I gasp as soon as I make the connection. It's hard. Max's training paying off well. Ollie's infront of me, grabbing my wrists and gently pulling me to the side until he can get me out of the crowd. Prema's around me in seconds, closing me off as I stare at my hands and feel the blood seeping across my knuckles.

I'm so screwed.

They get me into the paddock, voices over my head and slipping through my ears. I'm sat in my drivers room, Ollie and Kimi being peeled from my sides to go off and get ready for the race. I can't hear, can't think, a constant ringing ruining any conscious thought. My knuckle is split. My ring finger. I stare as one of the medics begins to clean up the wound.

Not even the sting can pull me from the thoughts racing through my head.

I hit someone. Struck a man out of fear. He had grabbed me, knocked my hat off, I had every reason to hit him. Yet, I had hit someone. I could hear my father's voice ringing in the back of my head, warnings of inheritance and passing down genetics I had shaken off to make myself feel better.

I was not my father. Never would be my father. I was so sure of that. Until today.

When the medic lets go of my hand and sets it on my lap, I feel fear strike my bones. And when René comes to get me, my silence is terrifying to everyone. I stand silent, straight faced, not even cracking a smile. The cameras watch me twice as much, I react a thousand times less.

Max is sitting on his bed, Penelope happily napping on his chest as he watches the pre-race bullshit for Reina. He had off today, oddly enough, and Kelly had gone out to do some sort of PR management event which left him to watch little Penelope. No problem at all.

The pre-race is what he's expecting, he can see Ollie dragging Reina and Kimi around and amassing a small group of F2 drivers outside of Trident. He laughs when Kimi hoists Reina into his arms, loudly announcing her by her nickname of Little Lion and making the rest of the boys cheer. What he isn't expecting is when they break up from the rest of the drivers to return to their paddock. Ollie's leading Kimi and Reina back when they get cut off by a mass of reporters. F2 hadn't been prepared for their usual amount of media to almost multiply by ten, and apparently it had been causing all sorts of issues.

Like this.

The questions are easy enough. He feels a weird swell of pride when he notices how easily Reina answers the reporters compared to before he'd started teaching her some media techniques.

And then the questions shift.

He can see Reina's panic after the first question, actually he sees it as soon as the word 'father' is brought up. He sits up a bit, gently readjusting Penelope as he turns the TV a bit louder. The camera swings away for a moment to show Ollie and Kimi pause when they realize Reina's not there, and their quick turn around before the camera swaps to show Reina.

She looks horrified. Max feels a burn in his chest as he sits up and leans forward, almost willing Ollie through the crowd. He can see multiple Prema people attempting to shove through, but every attempt is in vain. Nothing is working. It's a Sisyphean task.

Then the reporter tries to grab Reina and Max has to hold himself back from getting up and shouting at the TV. Not that it's gonna change anything. Reina steps back, and her eyes are darting around, trying to find a weak spot to escape. She can't, Max realizes, as the reporters close in.

The next thing he sees is her arm jut forward, a loud crack sounding over the speakers. His jaw drops, the sight of Reina hitting someone so foreign to him. Silence falls over the crowd as Ollie grabs her and pulls her away, someone else shouting for her to come on as Prema swarms her in a protective bubble. The feed cuts there and leaves Max on a cliff hanger for thirty minutes until they are just about to start the race. The anthem is playing. But, the Reina he sees on the screen is not his Reina.

She's silent, stone faced, frozen still and almost robotic. She moves soft as a dancer, but her gaze is sharper than an ice skaters blades. She wins, sure, but he can't get her haunted look out of his brain. She carries it even through her podium, not even able to smile when she hoists the trophy above her head.

The call from Hana the next day is expected. The invite to their flat in London is not.

"She just needs someone who understands what she's going through." Hana had pleaded on the phone, "I know it's wrong of me to say it, but you were treated a very similar way when you first got into F1 and especially when you started winning. You had a similar past, you both have similar struggles. She needs your help, Max.”

Max had wanted to suggest a therapist, a psychiatrist even, but he knew Reina would rather throw herself in front of a Le Mans car, probably the Porsche 936, than talk about her problems. Which left the question of if she would even talk to him.

But he tells Christian and Geri what's happening for a second opinion, and he is told he should go.

So he's on a flight to London three hours later, about a weeks worth of clothing packed haphazardly. He thinks he forgot a toothbrush and aftershave, but he doesn't care to check. After careful conversation, Hana had agreed to let him get a hotel close by, so he could give Reina space. Hana had been so certain Reina needed him, but Max wasn't even sure if Hana had tried to reach out to her daughter herself. Apparently Reina wasn't eating, doing her training, or even the sim. She had been in bed except for when she was forced out, and luckily there was a bit longer break than usual, it gave Max time.

He gets to the flat around eleven in the morning, twirling the keys of his rental car in his hand. He tells Hana he's coming inside and she gives him the code to the lobby and to the flat. The second one isn't needed, the woman is waiting for him in the hall.

“Thank you so much for coming out here.” Hana sighs when she sees Max and he’s shocked to see the usually classy woman in such a disheveled state, he gives her a hug in greeting but allows her to ramble through it.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a mess, I just—Reina hasn’t done this in so long it’s genuinely frightening to see it again.” Hana wipes her face, sniffling as she shakes her hands to sort of shake it off, “I’ve been trying to get her to do anything and she just won’t, she’s usually twice as active after a race, not sedimentary! I don’t know what to do—“

Max cuts off her rambling with a soft, “Hey, relax. You’ve done all you can. You go and take care of yourself, I’ll talk to Reina.”

It must be what Hana needs to hear (it’s something he’d been told by his mom when comforting Victoria growing up) because Hana barrels into his chest in a hug, thanking him probably thirty times in a row before stepping back and letting him in.

The apartment is gorgeous, Max can’t lie. It’s got big windows and tons of natural lighting, bright bold colors in decorations he’s sure Reina picked out. Which, he guesses, makes sense, because it will become her apartment soon. Hana points him in the direction of Reina’s room, but seems so genuinely distraught she can’t go near.

And this is where he’s stepping off the dock.

He hesitates to knock, but does eventually. It’s soft enough he’s sure Reina won’t hear it, but then he hears the most broken, teary and bitter, “what?” from the other side of the door.

“It’s Max.” He presses his hand to the handle, eyes staring through the wood as he leans in to the door itself, almost as if trying to see Reina through it, “can I come in?”

There’s a long enough pause he thinks she’ll say no. But theres a soft, "okay."

He pushes the door open to the darkness of Reina's room. One Himalayan salt lamp is on in the corner, providing a slightly warm glow to the room. The blinds are drawn tight, blackout curtains hastily thrown over them, and Reina's head is the only part of her body that's visible under her mass of blankets. Her room isn't quite messy, just cluttered with partially empty water bottles and a plate of cold breakfast. He remembers this. The shutting yourself off part of this all, of being raised like they had. Or, the lack thereof.

"Mornin'." He says simply, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. Reina blinks a few times, like she can't even believe Max is there, and slowly sits up.

"Why are you here?" Her voice is groggy but not in the sense of just waking up, it sounds more like shes been sobbing for hours. A claim backed up by the redness of her swollen eyes and sniffly nose.

"Your mom called." He doesn't sugarcoat, never has, "I saw the punch. What did the FIA give you for that?"

“Five second penalty. Kimi was behind by six. Didn’t matter.” She grumbled, looking over at him from where she’s bundled up. She looks miserable, and though Max knows he’s started to crack through to get her to talk, he needs to keep trying.

“Did they fix your brakes?” Max asks and Reina nods, then sits up and sighs.

“I know you didn't fly all the way from Monaco to London for small talk. What’s wrong?” She asks, scrubbing at her red cheeks as she crosses her legs and grabs a large plush Hello Kitty and buries her face in it.

“Your mom said you’re not handling it well,” Max hums, leaning back on his hand and looking over at Reina as she curls a little bit tighter around her plushie.

“I hit someone.” She whines, “I hit him.”

“He grabbed you.” Max says, looking over at Reina and letting out a tiny non-committal hum, “the reason the FIA gave you such a little punishment is because it’s self defense.”

“But Max, I hit him.” Reina emphasized and Max blinked. What the fuck was she getting at here? His confusion must be all over his face because she shifts slightly closer and he can see where she'd split one of her knuckles open. Hana hold told him the finger was technically broken, but Reina refused to wear her brace on it. Something about having already worn one in the past. Not that Max would know. But when Reina goes to ball her hand into a fist, he notes her pinkie and ring finger don't close. Daniel's injury rings in his mind for a second, but he shoves the thought away as Reina continues to repeat herself, more broken, more panicked.

“Reina," Max attempts to soothe her, scooting a a bit closer to place a hand on hers, hiding the injury from her sight, "what are you getting at here?"

"I..." She stammers, eyes darting around his face, and then she huffs out a question he's not expecting, "Are you afraid of being like your father?"

Max blinks. The silence encompassing the room for a long while before he sighs out a soft, "Yeah, terrified."

"Me too." Reina nods, flexing her hand again. Max watches the way her eyes dart down to her injury and he realizes she's trying to cue him in. It's like a puzzle, and he has to put together the pieces to get the picture. She doesn't say anything next, leaving Max to figure it out himself, so he just watches Reina.

She's fidgety, fingers tapping along her injured hand, but he notes she keeps poking her pinkie. She'd injured her right ring finger, not the pinkie, so he's not sure what she's trying to do. She's not concerned over her current injury, but the past one. His eyes trail along her clothing, her mothers old NASCAR jersey, the rest of her hidden under mass amounts of fuzzy blankets. Her hair is braided back, greasy, and knotted, her skin is dull but still clear save for one or two pimples in her hairline. She wasn't taking care of herself, he could see that, it was a classic depressive episode.

Max meets her eyes and sees shes trying to pick him apart too.

But why? What did she need to know? Max was pretty open with her, he'd told her more than he told most people. Geri had encouraged it, hell she'd even asked if she could tell Hana some stuff from when he first got to Red Bull. The first time he'd snapped at Christian, expecting to be shouted back at, but was shocked at his calm tone. The first Christmas, when he had no one to go to, and Christian invited him to their home and though Max was slightly out of place he'd stolen the attention of the kids in a heartbeat. That was the day he'd become almost like a fifth kid to the Horners. Geri had asked if he was comfortable talking about his childhood with Hana, and he had, though it was a difficult conversation. She'd asked wonderful questions about healing and growing up and moving on, asked how much moving to Monaco and being on his own at eighteen had helped. Being on his own was freeing, he'd said that much, and though he kept some parts out he knew Hana could piece it together.

Hold on.

Max had snapped because he thought Christian would be like Jos when he'd failed to overtake on a turn.

Max hadn't had anywhere to go that Christmas because it was the first time he was celebrating without any family in the same home.

Max became an unofficial Horner because his own familial issues.

Max had moved to Monaco to get away from his father.

Reina was afraid to be like her father.

Reina was always looking to Max for validation, even with how short they had known each other.

Reina's injury, from what little Max knew, was caused after she had crashed out of a race--in heer drivers room. The last time she'd seen her dad after she'd left their house in Fukushima.

Shit.

"Reina." Max starts, not sure if he even knows how to approach this. He'd been the messy one, the one to snap, the one to shout, the one to lash out. It was evident of an 'avoidant attachment style' from his childhood or whatever the hell that meant, therapists always confused him with technicalities. Max wasn't gentle, he wasn't soft like this, he was hard edges and half-broken promises. How does one avoid their own sharp edges when trying to handle something so soft? How can Max be sure he won't break Reina?

"What happened to your pinkie?" He asks, gently prodding the knuckle with his own. Reina meets his eyes. He can't find her in her own gaze.

"Boxer's fracture." She murmurs, "Like Daniel's."

"I know that, but how did it happen?" He pushes and when Reina freezes up, he whispers, "Listen, it's just us right now. I'm gonna keep you safe, yeah? Like a real brother would."

Max had enough experience protecting Victoria.

"My dad." Reina starts, then swallows and closes her eyes. She leans forward, seeking out Max, and he moves so she can rest her head on his shoulder, staring down at her hands covered by his, "Last year, when I crashed out towards the end of the season. I was living with my mom by then, so I never really saw him. I didn't even know he was at the race. I got to my drivers room and we got in an argument. My mom tried to split us up and he slapped her so hard she fell over. I pushed him to get him to leave her alone and..."

Reina struggles to find the words and whatever she had gone through is a thousand times worse than Max could've ever expected.

"He grabbed me by the wrist, I grabbed a door to get away and he slammed it on my hand. Broke my metacarpal in two places, I needed surgery, so I never finished the season. Finished thirteenth."

Max is still. So still he's not even sure he's still breathing. Reina sniffles, and Max feels her tears hit the back of his hand.

"You don't wanna wear the brace because it takes you back." He says and Reina just lets out a soft hum. He doesn't know what to do. So, he does what Geri had done the few times she'd had to comfort him. One arm around her shoulders, the other on her head, and he pulls her taught to his chest to cradle her there.

The sob she lets out shatters his heart and he tries to pull her impossibly closer. They're flush to one another, theres no more space to close, but he still tries as Reina breaks and shatters in his hands like fine china. He attempts to piece her back together but there's not enough of him intact to repair her. Max, for his benefit, has dealt with Penelope's tired melt downs and so he gives Reina a waterbottle and wipes her tears, lays her down admist her blankets and tucks her in tightly. He sits on the floor by her face, running his fingers through her hair as best he can, gently running his thumb along her shoulder.

He can tell shes not just crying because she'd hit someone, but theres more to it. And an hour or so later, when the tears subside, she finally opens her heart to him.

"I hate my dad." She whispers after maybe five minutes of silence, no longer broken by her sniffles.

"I do too." Hate his dad? Hate hers? He's not sure. But he stands up to open her curtains and blinds, hands itching to do something rather than just sit silent. The noon sun warms the room almost instantly, and Reina lifts her head to shift into the sun. He turns and speaks as he bends down to pick up a stray bottle, "Why do you hate him?"

"Just... everything he put me and my mom through." Reina sighs, "There's a lot he did I can never forgive him for."

"What did he do?" Max sits down again and Reina reaches out to his hand, which he obliges, and she pokes at his fingers.

"When I was growing up, I started karting in Japan with my father. He wanted me to race rally cars since I was born, even with his obvious disappointment I wasn’t a son. I competed for the first time on my fifth birthday, and won. I got scouted that day and my dad completely changed. It went from a little hobby I could have to a future career, especially when my mother learned she was infertile after my birth." Reina speaks monotonously, eyes distant as she recalls, and though Max has read up on her past he knows he's getting a new raw look at her life.

"My dad finally got me in rally when I was ten, a year before the divorce. I did it for three years. The worst three years of my life." Reina shifts so she's laying on her back, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding Max's eyes, "everything that my father had just simply said became physical. Every single time I made a mistake, I was hit. Every time I talked back, ignored him, walked away, did anything he deemed to be incorrect, I was hit. Sometimes just a whack to the back of my head in annoyance, most of the time closed fists. The only thing I was allowed to do was race, extracurriculars, and school. And that includes sleeping, eating, showering, and such."

"On my thirteenth birthday, my mom came to visit us in Japan for a race I had in Fukushima. I finished second because of some dirty play and my dad was so angry at the company for not catching that, he took it out on me completely. My mom and her boyfriend at the time saw the entire thing, a huge fight broke out, the cops got called, it was a whole thing.

"My mom sued my dad for only my custody, no payment, nothing. And he dug his own hole, the court found out he was spending all the money my mom sent for me on himself, I had saved years of evidence... my mom ended up getting full custody without a challenge, and a payment that amounted to all her payments of child support and then two years worth of payments of my fathers child support in advance. That all happened around the time I switched to Formula racing. The entire time I've been racing Formula I've been living with my mom and my dad has been sending child support."

"When he got... aggressive with you, was it always physical?" Max hums and Reina shakes her head. Max slowly starts to undo one of the braids to redo it, trying to ignore the greasy feeling on his hands, and she leans into his touch so much he has to pause as he feels her face rest against his arm.

"No, it was just shouting until I got into rally and then every once and a while he’d hit me. And the most he did before I got into rally was slap me once when I was like, six? But it was mostly just him ignoring me or screaming at me, or making me race to exhaustion." Reina sighs as she then rolls to curl up against his side and Max adjusts so that he's half laying down with Reina curled up on his chest. It's similar to the way he'd gotten the youngest Horner kids to sleep when he'd visit or babysit over the years.

"My father is one of the worst people on the planet," Reina stares out the window. Max hums non-committedly, moving a little bit closer as Reina speaks in the most dead tone he's ever heard as she says, "and I have always been his favorite punching bag."

"I was my father's favorite too." Max admits and Reina nods.

"What was he like?"

"Just a lot more manipulative and way less physical. A lot of it was just him ignoring me, leaving me places, shouting at me, pressuring me. A lot of manipulation when I'd call him out on it." Max hums, finding the braid he'd half undone to fully pull it out. Reina grabs a brush off her nightstand and hands it to him so he can start to brush out her hair. It's weirdly remnant of Victoria and Penelope. Reina hums and as Max brushes out her hair, he feels the way her body relaxes.

“So did you pick me or did Red Bull?” Reina asks maybe five minutes later and Max hums, fingers finding loops of her hair to slowly braid it again. Practically hearing Geri’s voice instructing him on how to braid because it was ‘something good to know for Penelope.’ He was glad he had listened to her. It was a good thing to know.

“They told me I was gonna train you, then told me I was gonna train Ollie.” Max hums, “Ollie’s great but… I dunno. I just knew I should mentor you. Call it divine intervention but I knew.”

“Im glad you chose me.” Reina murmurs against the fabric of his hoodie and he realizes how odd this moment is. He’d packed up in thirty minutes, gotten on a two hour flight, and spent an hour coaxing his mentees trauma out so he can help her. He could’ve just said he was busy, and yet he’d already given so much of his heart to Hana and Reina he knew he couldn’t just abandon them. Reina needed him just as much as he needed her.

"I'm glad I did too. And... listen, Rei, you hitting this guy because he scared you doesn't make you an abuser." Max watches as Reina picks her head up, resting her chin on his sternum to watch him, "and Reina, you being afraid of being like your father tells me you will never be."

"But I just... I hit someone like he hit me and it was just an echo. He always told me I would grow up to be like him." Reina closes her eyes and Max takes a hand to cup her face, running his thumb along her wet undereyes.

"But you hit out of fear, not out of anger or with the intention of abusing someone, thats the thing that will never make you like him."

Reina nods, and Max knows it'll probably take him the whole week to convince her of that. But, as Reina lays her head back down with a soft thank you, he feels like he's done enough. Only twenty four hours ago he had Penelope sleeping on his chest. Now Reina’s in the same spot, her hand reaching out to cup the setting sun with her injured hand.

“Kintsugi.” She says softly, then sits up. Max watches her, head tilting as she moves to her closet and swings the door open. Grabbing a stool, she clambers up to the top shelf and starts rustling around. From his vantage point on the bed, Max can see deep scars running the inside of her leg and wonders briefly where they’re from before Reina settled back in front of him on the couch. She sees him looking and swallows, digging something out of a box from her closet.

“Also from my dad.” She says, eyes flickering up, “same day my mom was in Fukushima.”

“Ah.” Max nods, and lets Reina continue to rustle. He wants to ask questions, but he’s curious as to what she’s doing. She sets down her brace and a thing of gold paint and hands a brush to him.

“What is this?”

“Okay. It’s kinda stupid because this is no where close to what you’re supposed to do, but hear me out,” Reina raises her hands in defense. Max let’s her have the floor, he’s not gonna judge her.

“Kintsugi, it’s a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery or dishes or whatever with urushi lacquer mixed with powered gold or whatever and I don’t have lacquer and this isn’t technically broken but!” Reina pauses her rambling, chews her lip, and looks away from Max and to the window, “When I had my first hand brace, my Jiji—my grandmother, she painted it with this beautiful gold design. She told me it was my kintsugi. That I was broken, and that she was mending me. And… she’s always been my biggest support. Besides my mom, Jiji sacrificed so much for me, almost all her salary went to helping me get into F4 because my dad stopped helping me pay for racing until he started sponsoring me last year. And… Kintsugi is our thing. If she breaks anything she waits for me to fix it.”

There’s something hanging here, something so vulnerable, so Max asks with plenty of pause to show his trepidation, “Why did you give me the brush, then? Where’s Jiji?”

“In Washington.” Reina hums, “And… you… you’re a really big supporter to me. And you mean a lot to me, Max. I’ve only known you for half a year now but… you’ve helped me with a lot. And you sacrifice a lot for me. You flew all the way here to help me because my Mom asked. And don’t think Christian didn’t tell me about you trying to anonymously sponsor me.”

Max laughs softly, “Guilty as charged.”

“I want you to paint something on it. Anything. I have a—“ Reina starts to dig again, “a gold marker too. I do this all the time with things I break—like my phone cases or my hair ties. This is a whole bin of knockoff Kintsugi.”

She hands Max the marker and then rolls off to the side to curl back into her blankets, but rests her head on his thigh. Max sits and stares at the brace in his hand, rolling it around in his grasp as he thinks of what to write. There’s about a thousand things that ring through his head, and none he can settle on.

And then he gets an idea.

While Reina watches him focus, the golden light of the sun haloing him, she wonders briefly if she’s found her own form of Kintsugi in him. Sure they weren’t perfect, and both deeply troubled in their own right, traumas rooted deep within them, but they had each other and that was what they needed.

And Max knew he found Kintsugi in Reina.

Reina sits up when Max hands her the brace back, making an odd face when she sees its written in Dutch.

“laat u niet definiëren door uw naam. Do not be defined by your name.” Max says simply, and Reina looks up at him and tears prick in her eyes immediately. When Max helps her put it on, he adds a bit more gold flare to the boring black brace and smiles.

“Now you can wear it, yeah?” he says, and Reina leans up to wrap her arms taught around him. He laughs softly and hugs her back, letting her bury her face in the side of his neck.

If she sobs, he doesn’t comment, just lets her lay there until she’s run dry.

A week later, Max is unpacking in Monaco when he notices something new in his bag. He finds a small little keychain, a little blue ribbon tied to a clasp he knows he can snag on his keys. It’s in Japanese, but the note attached makes him smile a little watery smile.

‘Max,

Thank you. That’s all I can say. For everything you were supposed to help me with, and everything you chose to do on your own. I hope I can return the favor.

Reina.

ps. it says ‘do not be defined by your name.’ just like my brace,’

The keychain hangs off the zipper of his work jacket instead. And if anyone asks—and Yuki is the first to ask the meaning since he knows what it actually says, he simply smiles and says it’s a gift. No other explanation needed.

Except for when Geri asks, and he tells her the whole story, and then Christian ‘yells’ at him for making Geri cry.

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reinamatsumoto: [come back soon, big brother]!!

viewing translation from japanese

tagged: maxverstappen

misshanatanaka: [so sweet! glad having him by helped sweetheart!!]

user1: CAPTOIN HAS ME IN FUCKING TEARS

user2: MAX IS HER BROTHER !!!!!!

logansargeant: did our sushi date meaning NOTHING.

⤷ reinamatsumoto: GOD YOU WANT A POST FOR FUCKING SUSHI??

⤷ logansargeant: YES?

⤷ oscarpiastri: please rei he's pouting.

⤷ reinamatsumoto: fine. anything for my favorite white boys.

⤷ user6: my favorite prema survivors <3

user3: CRYING OVER HER CALLING MAX HER BROTHER. OH. IM SO NOT WELL.

user4: so are we gonna talk ab her punching a reporter? bc shes hot for that.

oscarpiastri: PERONI??? FOUL.

gerihorner: so so so cute!!!!!

⤷ reinamatsumoto: thanks mom!!!

⤷ maxverstappen: thanks mom

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⤷ reinamatsumoto: [I KNOW !!!]

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#f1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfiction #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #max verstappen angst #f1 fanfiction

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mehbzz · 9 months

Note

do you think the boys would be into period sex? billy i can see being kinda weirded out at first but easily swayed by all the blood. stu… well, you know hes down, but they’d both have to hide just how much theyre into it

(also pardon me if you’ve talked about this before n im misremembering!!)

18+ Period sex/oral, dubcon toeing the line of noncon, anal sex, toxic relationship

Stu x Billy and Stu x Billy x F!reader.

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

The desk was smacking against the wall almost violently, and Stu felt an odd twisted sense of glee that his mother would probably notice the damage. The wood was warm beneath him as Billy fucked him over it, papers and pens still clattering to the floor with every thrust. Stu had lost the chase but he couldn’t really find it in himself to be disappointed about it.

“Caught you fair and square,” Billy panted. He kept a hand firmly planted on Stu’s back, nails digging into his skin and keeping him pinned down against the desk. “Thought you knew how to survive a horror movie?”

Stu clenched his teeth biting back the whimpers that threatened to escape his throat. It was too quick, too much, with not even close to enough prep, but Billy’s needling about him failing to escape was hurting him more.

“Even bunny lasted longer than you,” Billy’s breath was heavy, his voice strained. “But gotta admit I do like your ass better.”

Stu choked down a whine as Billy’s hips pressed hard against his ass, cock pressing deep, too deep, his nails scratching in to the varnish of the desk.

“Shame I dropped the knife, really want to mark you up right now. Did I tell you I fucked her with it?” Billy leans down, his chest flush against Stu’s back as he whispers and Stu feels his balls tighten and throb at the memory. “came around that fucking knife like she’d never had anything better.”

“Fuck Bill,” He knew, of course he did. Billy had recounted the story to him numerous times, the first time he’d heard it Billy had his cock buried so far down his throat he’d nearly blacked out.

“So quiet baby, you not enjoying yourself?” Billy pulls back and thrusts forward hard. “rather be on your knees? Want me to make you choke on it instead?”

“You talk too much,” Stu groaned, his breath was quickening just at the thought of it. “Monologuing while getting fucked is kind of a turn off you know?”

Billy didn’t seem to appreciate that, a series of abrupt thrusts forcing a cry from his throat.

“Aw there we go. You moan so pretty for me,” Billy’s hand smacking hard across his ass at his displeased sound. “You lost the game. If this had been real you’d been gutted and bleeding out right now.”

The moan Stu let out was loud, his momentary annoyance lost at the thought of it. Caught, covered in blood, bleeding out while Billy fucked him, his cock throbbing painfully with the image.

“You cheated.” The lack of control is starting to niggle at him, as is Billy’s smugness at catching him. Stu slips one hand between his legs, half expecting Billy to tell him to stop, the relief when he doesn’t sending shivers down his spine. Forehead dropping to rest against the desk as he stroked his hand up and down his cock, closing his eyes as he jerked himself in time with Billy’s thrusts.

“Cheated? You ran upstairs dumbass,” Billy’s thrusts turning slow and so deep that Stu felt like he could feel it in his stomach. “Stupid mistake, I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Totally my plan,” Stu pants, nails scratching deeper into the varnished desk as he tries to control his breathing, the slow deep roll of Billy’s hips starting to cross the line into genuinely uncomfortable. “Had to get you active. You've been moping after bunny all week. It’s boring.” There's a touch of genuine bitterness to his words that he's a little annoyed with himself he couldn't hide.

“You don’t miss her too?” Billy asks and Stu shakes his head automatically before the question truly registers. “Really? You don’t miss our pretty pliant little bunny? The way she squirms and whimpers?”

“Fuck-, shut up,” Stu’s cock jumps and twitches hard at Billy’s words. “Miss that pussy maybe.” He forces himself to answer, although he doesn’t sound as convincing as he’d like. Because he does. He does fucking miss you and he hates it. Even breaking in to your house and railing Billy in your bed had done nothing but make him miss you more. He wants to bend you over his knee and spank you for every day you’ve been gone, force you down onto his bed and eat you out until you scream for him. His spiraling thoughts about everything he wants to punish you with pushing him close to the edge too fast and too hard, his hand tightening around his cock, squeezing himself tightly and forcing himself to calm down.

“You sound a little bitter,” Billy sighs, words breathless and almost slurring together in that way that Stu knows means he’s getting close. “You jealo-,”

“I’m not jealous.” He answers too quick, the words tumbling out of his mouth before Billy’s finished speaking. He's not jealous. He’s just a little annoyed at the lack of attention he’s being getting, that’s all.

Billy slows even more, his pace faltering and shallow. That annoys him even further because he doesn't want Billy to notice how he’s actually feeling.

“Tired out already? Need me to take over?” He tries to fuck back against him but Billy grips his hips and pulls slightly away.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” Billy drags his fingertips down Stu’s spine. “you're mine Stu,” digging his nail into his skin to scratch along the faint white B that lived at the bottom of his spine. “You’re marked as mine.”

Stu wants to respond, wants to snap back but all that leaves his throat is a desperate moan. It’s embarrassing how quickly that word can unravel him, and he’s pretty sure Billy knows it too. As Billy’s hips start to move again Stu’s mind goes blissfully blank, the pleasure finally reaching snapping point and his back arching as he came, hand tight around his cock and shooting white ropes across the carpeted floor.

“Fuck me.” He mumbles, he feels shaky, a slight tremble in his legs that has him glad Billy hasn’t pulled away from him. “Jesus Bill.”

“All right?” Billy murmured, in that soft oh so quiet tone that Stu loathed and loved in equal measure, the tone that seemed to be reserved for him and bunny alone.

Shut up. Shut up is what he wants to say but he just grunts, burying his head in his hands. He shifted his hips and winced, somewhere during his mind blinding orgasm Billy must have cum too, he feels wet and sticky, even though Billy is still buried deep.

Billy murmurs something softly again as he pulls his cock out slowly, although he doesn’t move away completely, keeping his pelvis flush against Stu’s ass as his thumbs stroke idly across his hips.

“Still can’t believe you ran upstairs.”

Stu shrugged, not bothering to try and stand up from his bent position, lifting his head to rest on his palm with a sigh. “Panicked.”

“Panicked?” Billy sounds incredulous, he moves away and Stu bites down the urge to drag him back, instead turning his head to watch as Billy leans back against the desk, close but not quite touching him.

“Plead the fifth,” Stu mutters. He doesn’t want to talk anymore and Billy doesn’t push it. He stands slowly, stretching his arms high above his head with a groan. He can feel Billy’s gaze on him and he’d be lying of he said he didn’t flex, just a little. Tilting his head and cracking his neck, definitely not showing off the smooth column of his throat as he does so and defiantly not enjoying the definite hitch in Billy’s breathing as he watches. The one place Billy so desperately wanted to mark up and the one place he absolutely couldn’t. Neck and collarbones. A weakness in Billy that he took great joy in teasing and tempting him with.

“Wanna shower with me?”

Stu doesn’t answer, the sudden invading thought of what would his mother think if she came home and found the two of them naked in her office making him pause, his gaze lingering on the mess he’d left on the carpet. Billy would never let that happen, but the chaos that would ensue would be fascinating to witness.

“Stu?”

“Yeah, sure,” He kills that thought before he feels too tempted to try and let it happen, turning his head so he can look at the mask lying in the corner of the room where it had been haphazardly thrown. “And next time you’re leaving it on.”

The sounds of voices from your kitchen takes you a little by surprise. You recognize Stu’s voice immediately, dread pooling low in your gut. You weren’t supposed to see him or Billy until later that evening, and You had long ago made him promise not to turn up unannounced. You really should have known better than to trust he’d stick to that promise.

You take a deep breath as you enter your kitchen, stopping as you see Stu chatting animatedly with your dad. your gaze lingers warily on the open can of Jolt sat next to him, seems like the lazy afternoon you were hoping for was not going to happen.

Your dad looks disinterested and is focused on the paperwork in his hands with a barely concealed look of annoyance that Stu seems oblivious to. perched on the edge of the kitchen stool with one knee bouncing quickly up and down, he seems filled with more hyper energy than usual, making you wonder just how many of those drinks he’d actually had.

You both want and don’t want to interrupt the conversation, in all honesty you want to cancel your plans with Stu and Billy and just go to bed, even though it had been a week since you’d seen either of them, and you know full well that they are going to be sulky about the fact that you had to work on your first morning back. You shift awkwardly, gripping your keys a little harder as another cramp tugs and pulls low in your abdomen. Your period had taken you by surprise this morning during your shift, having no choice but to use one of the cheap uncomfortable pads from the women’s restroom. You take a deep breath, entering the kitchen and your heart skipping a beat in mild alarm as Stu instantly swivels in his seat to look at you.

“You kept in touch?” Your dad asks, he hasn’t acknowledged your hello and you try to not let that sting, the conversation you’re interrupting apparently one about your recent trip. “She was only gone a week.”

“I had one phone call.” Stu’s gaze is fixated on you, and you don’t miss the blatant disappointed emphasis he puts on one.

“Oh good.” Your dad is obviously disinterested in the whole situation, already focusing back on the papers and files in front of him.

“Yeah she rang pretty late, but woo boy was she-,”

“Sorry I’m late, we should get going right? The others will be waiting.” Embarrassment flares, your face heating to an unbearable degree as it dawns on you what Stu is talking about. The need to get him out of your house overriding your desire to make yourself more comfortable first.

“Aw but I was just telling your dad what-,”

“He’s busy, and we'll be late.” You tug at his arm and he immediately tries to intertwine your fingers with his. You pull away quickly, giving him a small shake of your head as you glance back at your Dad, who thankfully is still riveted to the paperwork in front of him. “I’ll be back late ok?”

Your dad gives you a distracted wave goodbye and thankfully Stu follows obediently behind you.

“You dick.” You smack his chest with the back of your hand as you pull the front door closed.

“What?” He rubs his chest before his hands are reaching out for you again, skimming down your sides to hook into the waistband of your jeans. “Just wanted your dad to know how sweet it was.”

“Can you stop with the touching?” You bat at his hands again, sighing when he ignores your request.

“Can’t control my hands,” He tugs hard on your belt loop, pulling you back into his chest and leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. “You’re looking foxy as hell right now.”

It takes an immense amount of willpower to pull away from him, but the first lick of his tongue across your skin does make you move. “We’re outside,” You dodge his attempt to touch you again. “And what was sweet?”

“You being away but still thinking about me. How you missed me. And my di-,”

“You better not have said that to my Dad!” You glare at him and he laughs.

“C’mon it was hot, hearing you get off like that. I could hear how we-,” He trails off with a grin as you hiss at him to shut up, giving him the finger over your shoulder as you start to walk down the road. “Fine fine.” His arm snakes around your waist, hand dipping into the back pocket of your jeans and giving you a quick squeeze. You don’t immediately pull away this time. It’s risky but it does feel good to have him touching you, to have him so obviously wanting you. “Glad youre back though bunny, Bill been driving me crazy with his moody ass.”

“He’s always moody,” You tease but Stu just shrugs, and you smile drops slightly. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, you left us.”

You blink, a little take a back. “I didn't leave you, I went on holiday.”

“Left, holiday, Whatever,” He waves his free hand in the air, dismissing your words. “You left, he crashed. He's gone all tortured artist, sulky, wont play with me, reading shit about men turning into bugs.”

“I- what?” You frown. “Bugs?”

“I mean it's hot, it suits him but fuck it’s boring.”

You don't know what to say, concerned and confused in equal measure, but Stu doesn't seem to care .

“So you gonna tell me about this Trevor?”

You frown up at him, the angle a little awkward with him so close, a little thrown off by his abrupt subject change. “What about him?”

“Curious who my babygirl hangs out with.” There’s a hint in his voice, something that sounds a little annoyed, even jealous as he speaks. “Your dad said you spent a lot of time with him.”

“You’re not serious?” It hits you the wrong way, and adds fuel to something you’d been noticing for a while, Stu’s seemingly growing possessiveness. Possessiveness you didn’t think he deserved to voice considering he was the one with the girlfriend. Hypocrite you think but don’t say it out loud. He looks disappointed when you step away from his side, the groping of your ass getting a little too over the top for walking in public. “Werent you just worried about Billy?”

“Bun bun,” He pokes your cheek, making you flinch. “You’re back, he’ll get over it, so tell me all the gory details.” His teasing tone feels a little flat, the shortened version of your nickname also only making an appearance when he was upset with you but trying to be subtle about it.

“Don’t do that Stu,” You swat his hand away as you fight to keep your tone calm but it doesn’t quite work, frustration lacing into your words. “There’s no details to share. He’s practically family.”

"Not actually family though."

You sigh, wincing as another cramp stabs at your insides; you thought they had finally eased. “No, not actually.”

“So? What did you to get up to?”

"Are you really being serious right now? He's my Uncle’s friend.” He nods but doesn’t comment, his raised eyebrows letting you know he’s expecting more. “He gave me a ride a couple of times, he came to family dinner. Family dinner. Because he is family.”

"I bet he wanted to give you a ride alright," Stu waggles his eyebrows. It feels wrong. His attempt at teasing you not matching the glint in his eye. It feels vaguely threatening.

“For fucks sake," You fight to keep the annoyed tone out of your voice. You don’t want to deal with this. You want a hot shower aand to curl up under a ton of blankets. “If I want to hang out with someone then I will thank you very much.”

“Two dicks not enough for you anymore?”

"Wow, ok,” His words hurt, you can’t tell if it’s an ill judged attempt to tease you or if he’s actually accusing you of something. “Fuck you too. You’re not seriously jealous?" The accusation escapes you before you have time to think it through. “You really want me to spell it out for you again? He’s family.” You finally snap, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. He shuts his mouth with a look of surprise at your outburst.

“Jeez relax, overreaction much? I’m only teasing,” His eyebrows raise and you can tell he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “Sorry for taking an interest.”

“Interest? You were just accusing me of-,”

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” Stu shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyes wide. “I was only asking what you got up too.”

“You-, whatever,” You wave your hand dismissively, trying not to wince as another cramp makes your insides twist painfully. “I had a good time, I’m glad to be home, let’s just drop it ok?”

It lapses into silence again, and you try not to make eye contact with him but you can feel him watching you intently, his surprised look replaced by that carefully blank mask that Billy is so good at. You hate it on both of them.

“You ok bunny?” He pokes at your cheek, grinning wide when you swat him away. The sudden flip in his attitude throwing you for a second. “You seem a little grumpy.”

“Fu-,” You click your tongue. “I’m fine. Can we just go? I want to see Billy.”

Stu stares at you for a beat longer before he shrugs. “Sure,” he bows low, arm sweeping out in front of him as he holds that infuriating grin. “Lead the way.”

“You’re early.” Billy rubs a hand over his face as he sits up from his place on the bed, rubbing his palm across his face as he scoots to the edge of the bed. He looks exhausted and his slow clumsy movements hit you with a sudden rush of affection. You smile softly at him as you come to stand between his knees. Billy glances up at you with slight tilt of his head, he doesn’t look particularly happy to see you and a little knot of guilt starts to form in the pit of your stomach.

“I wanted to see you,” You falter slightly when he doesn’t respond. “How’s the bug man?”

“What?” The look of confusion that flits across Billy’s face has you biting back a laugh, his eyes narrowing at you before he glances over to Stu. “What have you been telling her?”

“Nothing man, not a thing, just you know, about the whole Eric Draven vibe you’ve had going on.”

Billy tenses.

“I missed you.” You cup his face, drawing his attention back to you and interrupting their bickering before it can escalate. You did miss him but his reserved welcome has thrown you off a little. You lean down and kiss him on the cheek, but it doesn’t get the reaction you were hoping for, moving to press a tentative kiss to his mouth instead. “I missed you a lot last week.” It seems to work, his hands finally reaching up to rest on your waist with a soft sigh.

“I missed you too,” Billy murmurs. His tongue darts across your bottom lip before dipping slightly into your mouth. Its an odd kiss, feels more like he’s tasting you than kissing you, but you let him do what he wants. Humming contently as he flicks across your bottom teeth, he tastes like beer with a hint of cigarette smoke. You grimace slightly but bite down the urge to tell him off fro obviously smoking when he'd promised you he wouldn’t anymore.

"I missed you so damn much," He repeats, the kiss switching into something a little rougher as he nips at you, his hands tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, a move you try to stop before it goes too far. You break the kiss, gently pushing against his arms, straightening up and moving slightly out of his hold. The argument with Stu has left you feeling a little bitter, has soured your mood and reunion with them more than you thought it had. Billy picks up on your unease, he always does, and his face shutters, going blank as he shifts his weight, giving you no choice but to take a step back from him.

“I didn’t get that kind of welcome,” Stu moves up behind you and loops his arms round your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder and one hand dipping under your t-shirt to rest over your ribs. “Where’s my kiss?”

“Don’t,” You grip his wrist, stopping him from touching you any further. The cramps were getting worse; you didn’t want things to escalate, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Sure looked like it. You’re so snappy today,” Stu huffs into the side of your neck, annoyed at your reluctance, even Billy looks a little offended. “Is it that time of the month?”

“You’re just annoying.”

“See, snappy.”

Billy’s gaze briefly flickers over you, you know him well enough to know that he’s perceived your reluctance to go further than kissing him as a rejection, his gaze a little cold before he focuses on Stu. “What did you do?”

“Hey, I did nothing. Our moody girl here jumped down my throat,” Stu rest his chin on your shoulder, one hand trying to dip inside your panties and you dig your nails into his wrist in an effort to stop him. “I was only asking her about her holiday.”

“You were not-,” Your look at Billy makes you pause and the guilt flares in your chest, he looks hurt and tired and you just want to start this whole day over. “Ok fine I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. Can we drop it now?” You wince as another cramp hits you, body curling back against Stu like you could move away from it. “And you know what? Yes. I am on my period and it fucking hurts ok?”

It’s silent for a few seconds, for some reason expecting them to withdraw from you but Stu’s grip tightens rather than lets you go. “You’re in pain?” He sounds a little too excited as he asks you that. “Orgasms are supposed to help with that you know,” He takes your momentary surprise to slip his hand out from your grip to press tightly against your abdomen. “I could make you feel better?”

“No.” He gives in to your attempts to escape his hold, letting go of you only long enough to grip you hips and spin you round to face him.

“C’mon, I missed you,” He presses a kiss to your lips that you refuse to return. “And you snapped at me. You hurt my feelings bunny.”

“Because you’re a jealous asshole,” Your words are muffled against his mouth but he hears you, nipping sharply at your bottom lip in retaliation. Hard enough for you to jerk back out of his hold and straight into Billy’s chest.

He grunts softly as he loops his arms round your waist, holding you firm against his chest. “Don’t be mean, she’s in pain,” Billy mumbles as he speaks, you can tell how tired he is but you can feel how hard he is too, pressing against you as he holds you tight.

“Can we take a time out?” You thread your fingers through Billy’s but he seems less inclined to let you go than Stu had. “I am in pain and you’re making me a little uncomfortable here.”

“Uncomfortable?” Billy repeats dully and a little weight of dread drops in your stomach. “You were all over me a minute ago.”

The atmosphere is off. It’s not the ‘welcome home we missed you’ meet up you’d been hoping for. Between Stu’s amped up hyperness from earlier and Billy’s coldness, they seem unhappy with you and its putting you on edge. Stu softly grips your jaw, guiding your chin up to look at him before you can explain yourself. “You’re really bleeding?” Stu keeps hold of your jaw but lets his free hand rest against your hip. You nod reluctantly. “That’s what a period means genius.”

“Explains your moodiness.” Stu mutters, sliding his hand across your abdomen, and tugging at your jeans zipper, you move quick, latching onto his wrist with a firm grip that he ignores.

“Can we stop now?” You arch a little against Billy’s hold, freezing when you brush back against his cock. “Seriously I don’t-, I don’t like this.”

“I missed you though,” Stu pauses in his exploration of your zipper. “and I want to make you feel better.”

He tugs at your jeans again and you let go of his wrist, against your better judgement, trying to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head and the little voice that was helpfully pointing out that you were outnumbered here. hoping that maybe when he sees the unsexy sight of your old underwear that he’ll give up.

It doesn’t, he looks completely fascinated as he lets your jeans pool at your feet, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties and you squeeze you legs together before he can pull them off too. “Don’t.”

“It’ll help. Let me help you,” Stu’s fingers tap impatiently on your thigh. “It’s been a week, a whole week without you. I really really need you right now.”

“It’s ok. It’s just a little blood bunny,” Billy whispers into your ear, his hands sliding down your thighs and pushing gently, encouraging you to spread your legs. “Let Stu help you out, it’ll make you feel better.”

You don’t want to, but the want to not upset Billy further has you giving in. You can’t look at Stu as you reluctantly relax your legs, letting him pull your panties down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. It looks wrong, and you feel so embarrassed as Stu kicks them away but neither of them seems to pay your underwear any further attention.

“Stu please,” Your plea descends into a quiet moan as he circles your clit with his index finger, sliding further down against you and you panic, squeezing your legs tightly shut before he can do what you think he’s going to do. “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” He pauses, fingers still against your skin. “Don’t what? Use your words, baby bunny, otherwise I don’t know what you don’t want.”

“I don’t want that. It’s-, I’m on my period.” You feel a bit foolish saying it again, but the need to stress that you actually are bleeding is too strong to ignore, embarrassment making you feel like maybe they don’t quite understand that fact. Billy sighs, and you can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes in the sound, his breath against your neck making you shiver.

“We know. Open your legs sweetheart,” The pet name takes you by surprise, murmured softly against your ear as his fingers stroke over your hips and across the tops of your thighs. “I want you to feel good, alright? I don’t like you being in pain. Open them for me.”

You shiver; his soft whispers sending goose bumps over your arms and down your spine and you’re obeying him before your mind registers the movement, Stu wasting no time in sliding his hand back between your legs, his index finger slowly stroking up and over your clit where he rubs gently before he slips two fingers inside of you easily and makes a sound low in his throat that sounds a mixture between a groan and a whine. “Fuck bunny, you’re wet.”

“Does your stomach hurt?” Billy asks.

“Yeah,” you whisper, not bothering to correct either of them before you screw your eyes shut, your insides clench, a wave of cramps so hard that it makes you want to cry, head falling back against his shoulder. “Everything hurts.”

“Want him to stop?” It sounds like a sincere question but even as Billy asks it Stu shows no sign of stopping. You want to say yes but don’t want to be proven right, but then Stu crooks his fingers, thumb stroking over your clit and the brush of pleasure is all you can think about. It does feel good, and it does seem to be helping. You watch Stu’s face as he glances down at his fingers as he pulls them out of you, and his groan is enough to have your insides clenching hard in need rather than pain. You could see the fascination written all over his face as he slowly dipped his fingers in and out of you.

“"I'll be really gentle bunny, I will make you feel good,” he whispered, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and holding his hand up to show Billy. “What a fucking mess.”

Billy’s quiet groan in your ear makes your breath hitch.

“Let me take this off.” He tugs at your tshirt and this time you raise your arms obediently. A small murmur of approval in your ear as Billy lifts and removes your shirt as Stu slides his hand back between your legs, cupping you tightly before moving upwards, smearing your blood and wetness up over your hip. You feel torn between revulsion and desire, your breath hitching in alarm when you catch Stu’s gaze, his eyes are dark as they lock on yours in a way that feels borderline predatory. “Need you to lie down.”

“No.” You speak without thinking but before you could continue or backtrack Billy has a hand curling softly around your throat.

“No?” he squeezes gently, “Bunny. Don’t say no,” sliding his hand down to cup your breast. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “Do they hurt too?”

“Yeah," You suck in a sharp breath when he teasingly pinches your right nipple. “They’re sore.”

“Yeah? Stu’ll make it feel better. Come lie down with me.” Billy shifts to your side and you reluctantly follow him back to his bed, conscious of the way Stu is watching you like a hawk.

“I-,” You shift awkwardly; they don’t seem to be taking your reluctance seriously so you try a different tactic. “Probably gonna make a mess of your sheets you know. How about we swap roles?” Billy just smirks; drawing you into a kiss as he gently pushes you backwards, following you down onto the bed.

“Wanna swap Stu?” Billy keeps one hand on your shoulder, as if he’s expecting you to try and bolt as he turns to look back at him. You watch as Stu shrugs off his jeans, his eyes never leaving your blood smeared thighs as he starts to crawl up over your body, giving you no choice but to lie down.

“No fucking way,” He grins above you, leaning down as if to kiss you but moving at the last second to bite down on your earlobe. “I’m going to eat you out.”

You glance cautiously between him and Billy at your side. “Stu that’s- it’s-,” What you really want to say again is no, but it doesn’t seem to be working. “Messy.” You finish lamely.

He ignores you as he begins to kiss and nip his way down your body, his fingers tugging at your bra strap but Billy’s little whispered Leave it on has him moving on to sucking little kisses down your stomach. His mouth lingering on your hip as he nips gently at you, your body arching into him just a little and making him shiver. he would never get over how eagerly you reacted to him, especially when you obviously didn't want too. His tongue soothing over the bite before he positioned himself between your thighs.

“You’ll feel so much better bunny,” Billy was sitting patiently beside your head, hand idly stroking your hair and for one brief second it’s what you had actually wanted this morning. A soft, affectionate gentle reunion, but then Stu dips his head and licks his tongue through the wet folds of your cunt, making your head fall back with a loud moan.

“You taste like blood,” His voice was hoarse and strained and as you looked down at him, you could see him stroking his cock with his free hand. “So sexy, bunny.”

You opened your mouth to respond with something sarcastic but the words died in your throat when he buried his face back between your thighs. You hissed at the contact but couldn’t move away from him even if you were brave enough to try. Billy shifted closer, his attention seemingly fixed on Stu’s head between your thighs.

One finger stroked through your folds up to your clit, gentle and testing. It was slow, gentle, so unlike what you were expecting from Stu. The barely there stimulation was a kind of torture, leaving you squirming and eager for more. But it feels good, warm building pleasure easing the pain slowly.

"Stu," you gasped, arching your back. "Please."

"Please? You want it now?" His smirk was clear in his tone, even as he teased the very tip of one finger into you.

"Stop teasing," you grumbled. “Thought you were going to help me?”

“I am helping you.” He sighs, alternating between greedily dipping his tongue inside you and sucking gently at your clit. His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers, hips rocking up into his mouth. He shifts one hand from your thigh to press flat against your stomach, holding you still as he fucks you with his tongue.

“Is it helping?" He eases off, two fingers slipping into you with a lewd noise and without even thinking about it, you attempted to close your knees, shrinking a little in embarrassment.

Billy murmurs your name in warning. “Don’t.”

You force yourself to relax, Stu pumping his fingers steadily, thumb grazing over your clit.

"Fuck," you breathed, arching your back and rocking your hips down onto his hand. You squirm and Billy sighs as he strokes his thumb across your forehead.

"Stay still," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. "He’s trying to help you bunny, just look at me ok?”

Stu’s nose brushes your clit as his tongue delves inside of you and you cry out, your back arching as you break Billy’s gaze, eyes squeezing shut as you feel sparks of pleasure running all through your body.

"Stu, please.”

“Look at me,” Billy repeats, his fingers grasp your chin, pulling your face towards him. He wants your attention and you’re not giving it to him, you can tell he’s amused and a little annoyed by your inability to keep eye contact.

"You like it like that?" Billy asks as Stu crooks his fingers, rubbing up against a spot that had pleasure rising embarrassingly quickly. "Slow and gentle? You gonna cum for me?”

“For me,” you can feel Stu’s breath across your skin, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh as he speaks. “I’m the one doing all the work here.”

“I-yes-,” It’s all you can manage as he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of your inner thigh and you hissed, arching into him as you clenched and fluttered around his fingers, thighs tightening around his head as you ride out the slow warming wave of pleasure. You felt uncomfortably wet and sticky between your legs and thought of the mess you must be making on Billy’s sheets briefly crossed your mind.

Stu slows as your moans turn into whimpers, his tongue lapping over you softly once more before he sits up. It’s hard to look at him, blood smeared all over his lips, chin and nose, somehow more but not as much as you were expecting, but the way he is staring at you makes you shiver. He looks scary, feral, but he's also got a shit eating grin on his face because he knows he made you feel better. “Gonna fuck you now.” “Greedy.” Billy finally speaks up and Stu freezes. Something passes between them; a brief silent conversation that you know you’ll never be a part of but whatever was said Stu was obviously getting his way, as he moved his hips between your thighs.

“You’re going to be a good slut and suck him off while I fuck this bloody little pussy.” He stroked the head of his cock along your cunt and you heard him swallow hard as he watched your blood coat the head. “Fuck that’s hot.” he shuddered hard as he let his cock rub against your cunt, nudging your clit and teasing you as he glides through your wet folds. He moved to kiss you and you tilted your head, trying to avoid his mouth and he tuts, obviously displeased with the movement. “I want my kiss.” It’s a sulky, childish complaint but the puppy dog eyes and pout he gives you looks terrifying combined with the blood smeared across his face. You don’t want to but you don’t move away when he leans into kiss you again. Grossed out by the taste of your blood on his lips, coppery and sticky, you forced yourself to relax as Stu grips your jaw hard, holding you still and digging his fingers into your cheeks until you open your mouth for him. He swipes his tongue in to your mouth once and then pulls away with a low groan. Your chin felt sticky but Billy was quick to grasp your wrist tightly as you tried to wipe your hand across your mouth, Stu poking you on the nose at your grimace.

“Don’t ruin it bunny, let Billy fuck that bloody mouth of yours.”

You nod your head in defeat, biting back a moan when the head of his cock presses at your entrance, your breath stuttering as he begins to push inside. The stretch of him is unfairly divine, and you try not to think about the messthe two of you are going to make. “Fuck, look at that.” He draws out slowly, not even half way inside you, his pupils blown wide as he stares between your legs. “You’re beautiful, bleeding all over me.”

Billy murmurs your name, his patience at being ignored obviously run out as he tugs your hair to draw you attention back to him, his cock hard and ready in front of your mouth. You open slightly reluctantly and circle your tongue lightly over the tip, but he inhales sharply, a breath that turns into a needy plea when he abruptly pushes forward. "Just a bit more, bunny."

He starts slow, letting you accommodate to the intrusion, and then slowly begins pushing further down your throat, forcing you to take him until you retch, but before you can pull away his hand grips the back of your head, holding you in place.

“Hold it there for me, breath through your nose.” His fingers wind into your hair and Billy shudders, groaning appreciatively at the sight before him. Your eyes are swimming with tears as you try not to choke. The look of adoration he’s giving you is making you want to try your best to please him, but its difficult trying to forcing yourself to breathe through your nose without panicking. “Fuck, bunny, been thinking of this the whole time you were away. You choking on my cock.”

You hum in response making his breath hitch but a sudden thrust from Stu makes you jolt, makes you gag hard around Billy’s cock, instinctively reaching out one of your hands to press against Billy’s stomach as you tried to push him away, to give you some breathing room.

“Don’t.” One of his hands quickly finds yours, giving it one you think is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze but it feels vaguely threatening instead, but he still takes pity on you, drawing back just enough to give you some breathing room. “relax.”

You try, but although he’s encouraging you to relax he’s not stopped moving, his hips unable to stay still as he thrusts slowly into your mouth. "That's it. Fuck-"

Encouraged by his praise, you try to take him deeper, swallowing around him as the tears started to slide down your cheeks. you must look a mess but Billy glances down at you with such adoration it makes your heart soar.

"Are you crying?" Billy groans, a thumb swiping under your eye. "Cute."

There’s a hum of approval from Stu, his pace not slowing for a moment as he slid his hands up to your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your nipples as he leant down, biting and sucking hard at your skin with each roll of his hips. It was all overwhelming in the best and worst way. Delicious pressure was curling low in your gut, and you couldn’t stop your hips moving in time with his thrusts, chasing after your release. Stu groaned at the movement, reaching a hand between you to push his thumb to against your clit.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” he stutters out. “I know you can cum for me.” You were close, your orgasm creeping up on you quickly, but you could tell from Stu’s faltering thrusts that he was close too.

"m’close," Stu mumbles against your neck, tongue wet and sloppy over your skin as he strokes over your clit. “I can feel you squeezing my cock, bunny. Come on, come on." He shudders, sounding a little desperate but his frantic fingers slick and clumsy against your clit gives you just the right amount of stimulation to do as you’re told. Another slow roiling wave of pleasure that draws a strangled cry from your throat as Stu fucks you through it. You could barely breathe as Billy started to fuck your mouth harder, his own moans getting louder as he watched your back arch.

Stu hissed, the feel of you spasming and clenching around him and the sound of you gagging around Billy’s cock enough to make him reach his own peak. His hips bucking into yours one final time, burying himself as deep as he could go as a flood of warmth settled in your belly and he came with a low hoarse moan.

Billy’s movements become rougher as he curses, dragging your face to his pelvis and holding it there as he bottoms out, cumming down your throat with an eager moan. Stu’s fingers fluttering across your throat as you swallow and Billy withdraws from your mouth, leaning back on his hands with a contented sigh, eyes closed and heaving chest as he catches his breath. You’re coughing hard, retching almost, cum and saliva dribbling down your chin, and Stu wipes his fingers through the mess, rubbing it into your skin as he continues to trail his fingers over your throat.

“Missed you.” Stu whispers. He’s still inside you, his cock twitching and softening sending little pleasurable shivers through your body.

You don’t bother saying anything, just wince as Stu finally pulls out of you, the rush of fluids immediate and all three of you stare at the redness coating his cock. He swirls his fingers along his shaft in fascination, coating his fingers in the mixture of bloody fluids. “Shit,” he sounds dazed, and there’s a soft grunt of agreement from Billy as he slumps down beside you, a hand resting across your thigh as you both watch Stu stroke himself. It is hard to look away from, even in your exhausted state and you feel yourself zooming out as you watch, lulled into a dreamy relaxed state as Billy’s fingers trace up and down your thigh.

Stu’s hand tapping against your jaw makes you jump, forcing yourself to look up at him. His thumb brushes gently across your cheek as one hand still languidly strokes his cock.

“Clean me up?”

Billy can't help the gentle smile as he glances at you over the curve of Stu's shoulder. Curled almost against the edge of the bed, half covered by the blankets and the hot water bottle Stu had found you held tight against your abdomen even in sleep. Your hair is damp still and he knows for a fact you're going to be annoyed about that in the morning. Annoyed further when he tells you how adorable you look. It had taken him quite a lot of effort to tempt you into the bath with him earlier, which had surprised him, and hurt, but you’d caved eventually, you always did.

He hugged Stu closer, letting the sting of hurt disappear with the warmth of Stu’s skin before giving into the temptation to press a flurry of soft kisses across his shoulder blade. “You awake?"

It’s quiet for a minute, long enough that Billy thinks he might actually be asleep until Stu shifts with a sigh.

"No," Stu said slowly, sleep making the word more of an inarticulate grunt.

Billy tightened his arm around Stu’s waist, pulling himself closer until he is flush against his back . Stu makes a noise that he interprets as probably irritated, a noise he ignores and instead slides his hand up Stu’s hip and over his ribs.

"You doing?" Stu mumbles.

“Touching you?” Billy’s breath is warm on his skin and Stu shivers when another kiss is pressed to his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, and Billy’s roaming fingers reach higher up his chest, only pausing when Stu still doesn’t respond. "You want me to stop?"

"No. kinda." Stu whispers, trying his best to keep his breathing even, failing completely when Billy scratches a nail lightly over his nipple, only just catching hold of the whine that wants to escape. "sleep."

"Oh." Billy’s amused huff sends goose bumps down his spine. “Sleep.”

It’s tempting. Very tempting, to let his fingers roam over Stu’s chest. A few more tweaks and caresses over his nipple and he’d give in, he knows it. It’s one of Stu’s major weak spots but instead he smooths his hand down Stu’s torso, letting his nails scratch teasingly over his skin before relenting, wrapping his arm around his waist and smothering his face into Stu’s back. He smells like you.

#scream 1996 #stu macher #billy loomis #poly!ghostface #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Note

That man and his tongue! PLEASE.

Practice Test

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky loves helping with your studies. Word Count: Over 860 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, porn with some feels, roommate!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: What?! Two imagines in one day? How?! Hey, lovelies! Between this gif and inspiration by @sweeterthanthis , I had to give this to Stud and Smartie. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @vase-of-lilies. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world! Masterlist

It was easy some days to have tunnel vision when it came to studying. Not only did you like getting good grades, you actually enjoyed keeping your mind active. It was fun to learn. Bucky liked to remind you that taking breaks was also a good way to care for your mind, along with your body.

When he brought it up earlier today, you argued that you had to finish your practice test before you could rest.

Bucky took it as a challenge.

You tapped your pen against your notebook as you reviewed your last question once more. Typing was quicker and more convenient, but writing by hand was better for your memory. Always had been, which was likely another reason you liked putting puzzles together. It was easier for you to visualize the words and pictures you put to practice than the endless drone of the keyboard.

Now, thanks to Bucky, you would have an extremely vivid image to reflect on.

"Mmm. Speak up, Smartie. I didn't catch that," Bucky spoke from under the desk. "Last one. C'mon. You got this."

Your legs were spread as much as possible as his fingers held your glistening lips open for his greedy tongue. How the hell is he still down there? He can't be comfortable. Your boyfriend's massive frame, one way or another, fit somehow as he lazily teased your throbbing hole. And if the space bothered him, he didn't voice his complaint.

"I told you, Stud," you whined, repeating your answer a bit louder.

Bucky was nothing short of brilliant. He knew the answers to each of your questions and suggested that you read each one out loud as you went through your sheet. For each one you got right, the closer he brought you to the edge. If you got it wrong, he stopped until you "redeemed" yourself.

Perfect score, Stud. Should be proud.

"That's my girl," he praised, pressing a kiss to your swollen clit before he sucked it between his lips.

The pen hit the paper as you lost your concentration, his hand slowly gliding up your torso. He avoided reaching under your bra and it frustrated you that your clothes were still on. You wanted your aching nipples to be lavished by his fingers and tongue. Maybe he would fuck you on your desk if you asked politely.

And by asking politely, I'll just lift my skirt and bend over.

"My beautiful, smart, good, wet girl," he went on, pulling a whimper from you as your head fell back. The chair beneath you had to be drenched. He knew what his praise did to you. "Gonna ace that test. I know you will. Before you do, I need to give my pretty pussy a reward."

How many orgasms will he give me when he sees my GPA at the end of the semester?

You began to rock your hips as his tongue dipped back between your slick folds, his groan loud.against your wet warmth as you twisted your fingers in his hair. Your mouth fell open as you panted, grinding against his face as best you could.

"Fuck! Stud. Bucky. There. Please!"

Two fingers pushed in, fluidly moving deep as you arched your back. Oh, he was going to fuck you after this. You knew by the way his fingers spread inside you that he wanted you stretched and ready. The breathy whine you let out spurred him on as his lips wrapped around your clit once more.

"Come for me. Let me have it."

The strength of your orgasm took you by surprise, your cry embarrassingly loud as you catapulted over the edge. Bucky kept you in place, letting you ride out the overwhelming sensations as he lapped you up with a slight growl. Tears sprang to your eyes as your thighs lightly shook and it took you a few seconds to realize that he had pushed your chair back.

"Hey," you heard as you blinked, Bucky's blue eyes filled with a mix of lust and tenderness as he framed your face. You didn't see him crawl out from under your desk. "You okay, doll?"

He was still on his knees as you took in the sight of him. His long hair was messy thanks to your fingers, his lips shining and wet. You fell forward, pressing your mouth against his. Wrapping your arms around him, you let yourself melt into him. The way he always allowed you to.

"Perfect," you whispered, waiting for your heart rate to return to normal. "Thanks."

"For the study help or orgasm?" he smirked, kissing the tip of your nose.

For everything.

"Both," you smiled, pulling back so you could glance down at the hard-on in his sweatpants. "Need some help with that?"

He glanced down, too, with a grin, making your heart race all over again. "I wouldn't mind."

You guided your hand to the front of his pants with a wide smile. "And you're right. I'm going to ace my test."

You would continue to make him proud by doing well.

And Bucky already had something special planned for the two of you once the semester came to an end.

"That's my girl."

*****

Hmm. I wonder what he has planned! More to come soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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robo-milky · 10 months

Text

What if Cloche were to stay in Twisted Wonderland? Worst Case Scenario (Delusion)

CW: BLOOD//GORE (Written?)

(Edgification— My love/j)

Events:

• If Crowley never finds a way to send Cloche back home, Cloche’ position as a prefect is solidified. Cloche would also be granted greater authority over other students.

• The longer Cloche stayed in Twisted Wonderland, the stronger Binding Bells became. Cloche had less of a conscious choice when following orders, and it got to the point where orders become automatic and were harder to reverse. Crowley didn’t take any actions to contain the curse, under the impression most of Cloche’ orders were harmless, until the incident she lost her eye. From that point on, Crowley finally recognized the severity of Cloche’ cursed obedience and set a password on her. The password makes it so that Cloche doesn’t have to follow anyone else’s orders, and that she doesn’t have to address others as “Master/Mistress”.

• Cloche lost her eye to first years who didn’t know any better. The freshmen were skeptical of the curse and wanted to see the full extent of it, so they cornered her when she was alone. They ordered her to freeze to cut her hair, and were surprised Cloche was so complaint. Still under the impression the curse was fake, and cutting hair didn’t cause any physical harm, they went out of their way to order Cloche to take out one of her eyes. Their curiosity turned to horror, when Cloche actually did it. Even if they tried to restrain her, she can’t stop until the order is fulfilled.

• The freshmen weren’t expelled, but suspended and heavily reprimanded. Crowley wanted to keep any and all incidents of violence under the wraps, as best he could. After the incident, Crowley realized Cloche had the potential to kill if ordered so, and temporarily fixed the obedience aspect of Binding Bells.

Changes:

• Cloche becomes more paranoid and stern after the incident. Her emotional apathy also worsens as a result of not being able to go back home. Cloche never felt a big connection to Twisted Wonderland and NRC in the first place.

• Since Cloche is less emotional now, she’s less likely to go feral.

• Cloche takes off her maid accessories and is finally given a form fitting uniform. With her hair cut, she also fits in with the boys more.

• The first year gang (now second year) are more protective of Cloche and keep a closer eye on her (especially ADeuce + Grim)

• Grim acts as Cloche’ second pair of eyes to make up for her worsened depth perception.

• Cloche comes to terms with the fact she may never be human again, and accepts the beastman features as apart of her.

• Unlike her first year self, second year!Cloche takes her role as a prefect more seriously, and actively tattles on troublemakers. She’d even go as far as to document suspicious activity her ear bells pick up on. She’d garner a reputation similar to Riddle. Thanks to Crowley’s protection, she can make reports without worrying about others trying to get revenge on her.

• In place of a magical pen, Cloche wears a NRC badge with a whistle behind it.

[Notes]

• Second Year!Cloche is designed with the intent to foil the Cloche who can return to her world, to foil the Cloche who did get her happy ending.

• I went for a police/military vibe with the design and pose to establish power

• Her iris will be forever shrunk to show the constant paranoia and unease.

• Cloche isn’t necessarily bullied here, but she happened to run into dumb kids who didn’t make the best decisions. The justifications of their actions is up to you

• She is twinning with Leona <3 Both felines with scarred eye ;)

• Shout out to the friend who said quote: “What is wrong with you?” when I showed the OG sketches— everything. Nobody deserves to be happy (except for sweet baby Leikata and Otomine uwu)

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dilf-whore · 2 years

Text

my kind of girl (part 1)

pairing: billy hargrove x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers! , a little fluff (?), i’m not sure really, some mentions of bullying

summary: you grow closer and closer with the redhead you tutor... and maybe with her stepbrother too

A/N: i’m back! i’m sorry i was gone for so long so many shit has happen and i lost motivation to do stuff. i hope you guys like this series, i’ll be posting the next part soon. please do let me know if you want to be tagged to the next parts! 𓆩♡𓆪. send in you requests as well! also this is not proofread.

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

・°☆

“Hi! Y/N Y/L/N? is that right?” a redhead girl approached you, hugging her skateboard. You assume she’s a middle-schooler, seeing her wary eyes as she enter the high school campus. You nod.

She sighs in relief, her body relaxing a little. “I heard that you do tutoring? Are you still available to tutor another student?” she asks.

“Actually, I’m not teaching anyone as of the moment so I have all the time after school to tutor” You say.

“Oh that’s great! I’m Maxine Mayfield by the way, but please call me Max. Will you be free today after school? So you can coordinate with my parents? and hopefully start today” Max rambles, fidgeting the hem of her jacket.

“Sure!” you smile.

She pulls a crumpled piece of paper and a pen in the pocket of her bag. She lifts her knee and put his skateboard on top, writing her details.

Handing out the crumpled paper to you, “4819 Cherry Lane, I’ll see you at 6. You can eat dinner there”.

"Alright see you!” you say as your wave each other goodbye.

・°☆

You turn your car at the house with the number 4819, and see a blue camaro in front looks familiar you thought. You park beside the shiny car and made your way to the front door.

Dusting off your pants and making small fixes on your shirt. But before you could even knock on the door, a tall blonde man barged outside the door, startling you. You watched him approach his car in disbelief, didn’t even bother to apologize or even look at you.

As he opened the driver’s seat, you took a good look at him. It’s Billy Hargrove

“Hi! You must be Y/N? I’m Neil and sorry about my son. You know, just a little misunderstanding” A man, wearing glasses interrupted your thoughts.

“Oh y-yes that’s right” you reply.

“Please come in”

He leads you to the dining table, and there you see a woman, who looks like Max. And of course, Max who’s smiling excitedly at you. “Hi!” she waves at you.

You sat down beside Max, handing out to you the roasted chicken.

“So how much do you charge and what do you teach?” The woman asked.

“I charge $3 per hour, and I usually teach middle-schoolers and sometimes those in pre-school and elementary. I teach all subjects most of the time” you say.

“Wow that’s really impressive. We’re also good with your price, can you start today?” Neil asked.

“Yup!” you reply.

・°☆

Max brings you to her room and grabbed a spare chair for you.

“So you and Billy are siblings?” you wondered.

“Uhm no, he’s my stepbrother and an asshole” she replied, emphasizing the word stepbrother.

You nod as you take a seat beside her.

“Before we start, is it okay if they pay you like every end of the week? my mom and stepdad are usually gone, so yeah” Max asks as she look through notebook.

“Sure no problem” you reply.

・°☆

An hour and a half has passed, and you see 8:03 on the clock. You look at Max who just finished the activity you gave her on Physics. She gives you her paper, a little scared.

Giving a small pat on her shoulder you reassure, “don’t be nervous Max, you can do it. Besides I’m here to teach and guide you every step of the way”

After checking her work, you gave her a wide smile and a thumbs up.

“Good job! you only made three mistakes but that’s a huge improvement. I’m so proud of you” you cheer.

Max sits up straight, energy filling her body. She claps her hands excitedly like a little kid, “Oh my god! I did it! Thank you Y/N, you’re so smart”

“I told you you can do it! and there you have it the end of our first session! So, I’ll see you tomorrow? same time?” you ask.

“Yup, see you!” she reply.

You stand up and help Max tidy up her table. Piling up pieces of paper, picking up books and putting them inside the girl’s bag. You hear a loud roar of a car outside which startled the both of you.

“He’s back” Max says, rolling her eyes.

・°☆

You both go outside the room, and hear soft giggles. You and Max go further and see Billy with Carol, arm around her waist, entering the household.

You made eye contact with Carol who’s looking you up and down with disgust. i want to gauge this bitch’s eye out you thought. God how much you loathe Carol, boosting her self-esteem by making fun of other people, judging them as if she’s perfect. You were never really made fun or judged by her, (not until now) but you are aware of how poorly she treats other students in school.

“Who are you?” Billy asks annoyed.

“She’s Y/N, my tutor. And if you don’t mind, get out of the fucking way” Max replies, motioning the pair to move aside.

She grabs you by the shoulder and quickly bring you to your car. And you swear you felt eyes staring at you from behind as you go out.

Billy watches as the girls left the house, checking you out of course.

she’s pretty

“I’m so sorry about him, I assure you he won’t be around during our tutoring sessions”

“It’s okay Max, no need to apologize” you reassure.

You step in your car and bid your goodbyes.

Well that was something

・°☆

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcannons #stranger things headcannons #dacre montgomery

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godsfavdarling · 2 months

Text

01 new beginnings

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: After nearly two decades with the FBI, Dr. Spencer Reid makes a career shift to teaching at Georgetown University. There, he shares an office with Dr. Brittany Reed, a sociologist.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

warnings: none for this chapter

words: 3,9k

Spencer stood amidst the scattered boxes in the office, meticulously arranging his belongings on his new desk. The scent of fresh paint mingled with the faint aroma of coffee, signaling the start of a new chapter in his life. His gaze wandered to the other desk in the room, its pristine surface a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him.

The desk was neatly organized, adorned with a half-finished iced latte, stacks of glossy women's magazines, and an array of black pens. A closed laptop sat at the center, flanked by notebooks and a sleek black purse resting nearby. Spencer couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as he surveyed the items, each one offering a glimpse into the personality of his mysterious officemate.

Lost in thought, Spencer was startled by the sound of the door opening. He turned to see a woman entering the room, her presence commanding attention. She was tall and elegant, with long black hair cascading over her shoulders and piercing gray eyes framed by black-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a chic black blouse and wide-legged suit pants, she exuded confidence and poise.

The soft lighting of the office accentuated the delicate features of her face—the slight curve of her lips, the subtle arch of her eyebrows, and the gentle contours of her cheeks. Her long black hair framed her face like a cascading waterfall, adding to her allure.

"Dr. Brittany Reed, I presume?" Spencer said, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The woman flashed him a warm smile as she approached. "That's me. And you must be Dr. Spencer Reid," she replied, extending her hand.

Spencer shook her hand, feeling a surge of awkwardness at the physical contact. "Yes, that's correct. It's nice to meet you, Dr. Reed."

Brittany chuckled, her laughter filling the room. "Call me Brittany. And isn't it funny how our last names sound so similar? Reed and Reid!"

Spencer couldn't help but smile at the coincidence, though his mind was still racing with thoughts and observations. He watched as Brittany settled into her desk, effortlessly navigating the space with a grace he could only admire from afar.

"I hope you don't mind my mess," Brittany said. "They're doing some renovations in the department, so we'll have to make do with sharing for now."

"No problem at all," Spencer replied as he sat down, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt. He couldn't help but observe Brittany. She had an easy going demeanor, and her laughter filled the room as they kept talking.

"So, Spencer, what made you decide to leave the FBI and join us here at Georgetown?"

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind racing to find the right words. "Well, it's... it's a long story. I suppose I just needed a change of pace, a new challenge."

Brittany nodded understandingly, her gaze curious but non-intrusive. "I can imagine. It must be quite a transition."

"Yeah, it definitely is," Spencer admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm still trying to find my footing, to be honest."

She chuckled and said, "Well, at least you won't have to worry about any serial killers lurking in the halls. Just your typical college students—though some of them could probably use a session or two with a therapist!"

"Actually, statistically speaking, there's quite a bit to consider regarding the prevalence of certain behaviors among college-aged individuals," Spencer began, his tone becoming more animated as he delved into his area of expertise. "For instance, did you know that approximately 10% of college students admit to engaging in some form of criminal activity?"

Brittany's eyebrows raised in interest, encouraging Spencer to continue.

"And when we look at specific types of crimes, the numbers are even more alarming," Spencer continued, his words picking up speed as he delved into his analysis. "According to recent studies, nearly 20% of college students report having committed acts of vandalism, while over 30% admit to underage drinking, and approximately 20% acknowledge using illicit substances."

He paused, taking a moment to gauge Brittany's reaction. To his surprise, she was listening intently, her eyes fixed on him with genuine curiosity.

"But it's not just about the crimes themselves," Spencer continued, his voice gaining momentum. "We also have to consider the underlying factors that contribute to this behavior. Academic stress, peer pressure, and socioeconomic disparities all play a significant role in shaping the choices students make."

As Spencer delved deeper into his analysis, he couldn't help but notice Brittany's attentive demeanor. She didn't interrupt him or try to redirect the conversation—instead, she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.

"And when you factor in the influence of social media and online communities," Spencer added, his mind racing with data and statistics, "the potential for criminal behavior among college students becomes even more complex. It's a multifaceted issue that requires a comprehensive understanding of human behavior and societal trends... But you probably know about that because you are an expert in how technology influences society..."

He stared at her in awe, struck by her patience and genuine interest in his ramblings.

"Sorry, I started rambling," Spencer said, his voice filled awkwradness.

Brittany smiled warmly, her gray eyes meeting his with understanding. "No need to apologize, Spencer. I found what you had to say incredibly insightful!"

"Thank you," Spencer said, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude as he turned his gaze away from her. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, he couldn't shake the sheepish feeling that crept over him.

"Have there been any studies on the prevalence of criminal behavior among professors?" she asked him, as she walked over to his desk and sat on the edge, her thigh now partially resting on the wood.

Spencer couldn't help but notice the change in perspective, her presence suddenly more pronounced. From this angle, she looked even more captivating, and Spencer found himself momentarily distracted by her proximity.

"Um, well, criminal tendencies among professors are... um..." Spencer's words trailed off as he struggled to maintain his train of thought, his gaze inadvertently drawn to Brittany's intent expression. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him closely as he stumbled over his words.

"Sorry, I, uh..." Spencer felt a flush of embarrassment color his cheeks. He cleared his throat and continued.

"To answer your question, there have been studies that suggest... um, criminal tendencies within academia have been the subject of numerous studies over the years. While it's true that the vast majority of professors uphold the highest ethical standards, there have been instances where individuals within the academic community have been implicated in criminal activities."

He paused briefly, glancing at Brittany before continuing, captivated by her attentive gaze.

"But it's mostly cases of academic fraud, research misconduct, and even instances of embezzlement within universities," Spencer explained, his words flowing effortlessly as he delved into the nuances of the topic. "The pressures of academia, combined with the temptation of personal gain, can sometimes lead individuals down a dangerous path."

As he spoke, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Brittany's genuine interest in the subject. Her unwavering attention fueled his confidence, allowing him to articulate his thoughts with clarity and precision.

"And while these cases are relatively rare, they serve as a reminder that no profession is immune to the influence of criminal behavior," he reiterated, his voice filled with conviction. "It's a complex issue that warrants further examination, both from a societal and institutional perspective."

He paused, his eyes lingering on Brittany for a moment longer before a playful glint sparked in them. "But not many serial killers," he added with a hint of amusement, a small smile playing on his lips.

Brittany chuckled softly, her own smile mirroring Spencer's. "Thankfully, we don't have to worry about that here," she replied, her tone light and teasing.

She gracefully turned and walked back to her desk. Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the effortless sway of her hips with each step she took. He found himself captivated by the fluidity of her movements, the subtle elegance that seemed to exude from every gesture.

Unconsciously, Spencer leaned back in his chair, his eyes tracing the contours of Brittany's figure as she moved across the room. He felt a rush of warmth flood his cheeks, his pulse quickening at the sight before him.

Once Brittany settled back into her chair, Spencer quickly averted his gaze, focusing intently on the papers scattered across his desk. He could feel the heat still lingering in his cheeks from his earlier observation, and he silently chastised himself for allowing his thoughts to wander.

Her effortless confidence and poise were a stark contrast to Spencer's own awkwardness, and in her presence, he felt acutely aware of his own shortcomings. Her warmth and charisma seemed to draw him in, yet at the same time, they left him feeling vulnerable and exposed.

He busied himself with arranging the papers on his desk, his movements slightly fumbled as he tried to regain his composure.

Despite his best efforts to mask his unease, he couldn't shake the feeling of being out of his depth. It was as if her mere presence had a way of unraveling the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself.

But even as he struggled to find his footing, Spencer couldn't deny the strange allure of Brittany's presence. There was something captivating about her confidence and poise, something that drew him in despite his own insecurities.

As Spencer busied himself with organizing his desk, he felt the weight of Brittany's gaze upon him. Every so often, he would steal a glance in her direction, only to find her looking back at him with a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

It was as if she could see right through him, could sense the flutter of nerves in his chest and the slight flush that colored his cheeks whenever she glanced his way. Despite his attempts to appear composed, Brittany's perceptive gaze seemed to unravel him with ease.

Spencer couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue at the way Brittany seemed to effortlessly read him like an open book.

After a while of engrossed work, a knock on the door interrupted their quiet concentration. Spencer and Brittany exchanged glances before Brittany rose to answer it.

Opening the door, Brittany greeted the woman with a warm smile. "Maya! Come in," she exclaimed, gesturing for the red-haired woman to enter.

Maya stepped into the office with a bright grin. "Hey, Brittany! How's your first day going?" she asked cheerfully, glancing around the room.

Brittany motioned towards Spencer. "Maya, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's our new colleague here at our department. And this is Dr. Maya Cooper, her office's next to ours and she's my friend!" she introduced.

Spencer offered a polite smile, feeling a bit self-conscious "Nice to meet you, Dr. Cooper," he greeted.

"Hello Dr. Reid. That's funny you guys share an office... You know... with the names..."

Maya's gaze shifted between Spencer and Brittany before she turned back to Brittany with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Hey, so I was thinking... Since it's the start of the academic year and all, how about we all go out for drinks later? A little professor integration, if you will," she suggested, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Brittany's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "That sounds like a fantastic idea! What do you say, Spencer? Would you like to join us?" she asked, her gaze lingering on him with a hopeful smile.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, feeling the familiar tug of apprehension in his chest. The idea of going out for drinks with his new colleagues made him feel slightly uneasy. But as he glanced at Brittany, her warm smile and genuine invitation softened his resolve.

"Um, sure, I... I'd be up for it," Spencer replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

The girls' faces lit up with delight at his acceptance, and Maya clapped her hands together excitedly. "Great! It's settled then. Adam and Carly are also coming! Oh, and Brittany, don't forget to ask Lawrence to come along. The more, the merrier!" she exclaimed before turning to leave.

Spencer fidgeted with a pen on his desk, his mind swirling with thoughts about the upcoming gathering.

"Do you and Lawrence know Maya well?" Spencer ventured cautiously, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

"Yeah, we've known each other for a while," Brittany replied with a smile, sensing Spencer's apprehension.

"It's nice that you include him and spend time with both him and your work colleagues," Spencer remarked, hoping to steer the conversation in a casual direction.

Brittany chuckled softly at Spencer's assumption, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Oh my god? Do you think that Lawrence is my boyfriend?" she replied, amusement evident in her voice.

Spencer's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realized his mistake. "Oh, I, uh... I see, I'm sorry. I just thought..." he stammered, feeling relieved yet still unsure of himself.

Brittany's laughter filled the air, her amusement contagious. "Don't worry, Spencer. It's okay. Also Lawrence is very much unavailable... in that way, at least," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer's confusion deepened at Brittany's cryptic remark, but before he could inquire further, she offered a reassuring smile. "He's gay, Spencer. Very gay! And he's my neighbor and my best friend!" she clarified with a playful wink.

Understanding dawned on Spencer, and he couldn't help but join in Brittany's laughter. "Got it," he replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Brittany asked teasingly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"What? No, of course not. Why would I..." Spencer started to reply, his voice trailing off as he realized Brittany was joking.

She laughed, the sound light and playful. "I'm joking!" she exclaimed, shaking her head at Spencer's earnest response.

Brittany continued to laugh, finding the idea of Lawrence being her boyfriend utterly hilarious. Spencer couldn't help but laugh along with her, grateful for her easy going nature.

After their classes concluded, Brittany and Spencer made their way to the metro station together, sharing casual conversation along the journey. The excitment of the evening's gathering filled the air as they rode the train to the bar where their colleagues were waiting.

As they arrived at the bar, Spencer took in the ambiance of the place. It was a cozy establishment with dim lighting, exposed brick walls adorned with vintage posters, and a lively atmosphere. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the soft melody of background music.

Brittany and Spencer found their colleagues gathered around a table in the corner of the bar. Maya and Lawrence were already seated, engaged in animated conversation. Two other individuals, Adam and Carly, joined them, completing the group.

Brittany intoduced Spencer with a warm smile as they approached the table, gesturing for him to take a seat beside her. Lawrence, a tall black man dressed in a bright dress shirt and colorful pants, flashed a friendly grin as they sat down.

"Spencer, this is Lawrence," Brittany introduced, her tone light and playful. "Lawrence, meet Spencer. He thought you were my boyfriend!"

Lawrence's eyes widened in mock horror, and he feigned a dramatic gasp. "Oh no, not another one!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I might just have to throw up if I hear that again."

Spencer chuckled nervously, feeling a pang of embarrassment at Lawrence's jest. He glanced at Brittany, who was smiling mischievously, clearly enjoying the exchange.

As Brittany turned to Spencer, her voice laced with amusement, she asked, "So, what'll it be? I'm heading to the bar."

Spencer quickly rose from his seat, a determined look in his eyes as he replied, "I'll order for us."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by Spencer's sudden assertiveness. "Oh, really?" she quipped, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Quit the gentleman act, Spencer. I'm perfectly capable of buying drinks. You can buy me coffee some day. Now, what are you having?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then replied simply, "Water."

Brittany's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of incredulity in her voice as she repeated, "Water?"

"Yes," Spencer confirmed, nodding firmly.

"You'll have water?" Brittany pressed, unable to hide her amusement.

"Yes," Spencer repeated, his tone unwavering.

"Okay," Brittany said, shaking her head with a laugh. "One water for Spencer."

As she made her way to the bar, Spencer couldn't help but smile at Brittany's playful teasing.

They sat at the table, enjoying their drinks and conversation and Brittany sipped on her second beer, the lively atmosphere of the bar enveloping them.

Spencer couldn't help but notice the way Brittany's hand wrapped around the cold glass of beer, her long coffin-shaped nails painted in a subtle beige hue. The soft clinking of her gold rings against the glass created a gentle melody that resonated in the air

Suddenly, one of the bartenders approached, placing a colorful drink before Brittany and pointing to a guy at the bar, indicating that it was from him.

Brittany looked at the drink with a mixture of surprise and mild disgust, then glanced over at the guy at the bar. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, her expression incredulous.

Maya and Lawrence burst into laughter at Brittany's reaction. "Why would he even buy me a drink? I'm drinking beer. Is he blind?" Brittany wondered aloud, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, it's not very ladylike of you. He knew better what you'd like!" Lawrence teased, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, how could you know what you should drink? He's here to tell you!" Carly added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Spencer watched the whole interaction unfold, intrigued by the dynamics of Brittany's friendship group. Brittany continued to stare at the drink, seemingly at a loss for what to do with it.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she mused aloud, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Go to him and say thank you. He's not that bad looking," Lawrence suggested with a mischievous grin, eliciting laughter from the group.

"I'll take it!" Maya declared enthusiastically, already enjoying a similar drink of her own. Brittany pushed the glass towards her friend with a grateful smile, relieved to be rid of the unexpected gesture.

As they left the bar, Brittany lit up a cigarette, the glow casting a warm light on her face as they continued their conversation. They debated which way to go home, their voices mingling with the sounds of the city streets.

Suddenly, the guy from the bar approached Brittany, catching her attention. "Hey..." he started, but Brittany turned to him with a polite smile, saying hi.

"So, I was thinking..." he began, but Brittany swiftly interrupted him, her hand reaching out to grasp Spencer's arm as she came up with a quick solution to rid themselves of the unwanted attention.

"Sorry," she interjected, her tone firm but friendly. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

As Brittany's hand gently closed around Spencer's arm, a rush of warmth spread through him, unexpected but not unwelcome. Her touch, though brief, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, stirring something deep within him.

And when she casually referred to him as her boyfriend, a small thrill ran down his spine, igniting a flicker of excitement in his chest. Though he didn't say anything in response, the subtle shift in his demeanor didn't go unnoticed.

The guy's expression shifted, his eyes widening in realization. "Oh, right! Sorry, man! I didn't know. Have a great night!" he exclaimed, before quickly turning and disappearing into the night.

"Okay, we have to go. Bye guys," Carly said quickly, her voice cutting through the chatter as she and Maya and Adam hurriedly hailed a taxi that had just arrived.

Lawrence also chimed in, "I gotta go the other way... I might... have a date..." With a wave, he disappeared into the bustling city streets.

Suddenly, Spencer and Brittany found themselves alone, the noise of the city enveloping them once more. Brittany turned to Spencer, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry for what I said back there... I didn't mean to imply..."

Spencer nodded understandingly, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's okay, Brittany. I understand," he reassured her, grateful for her quick thinking in diffusing the situation.

Brittany sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she visibly eased into the conversation. "You know, sometimes guys just let go easier when there's a threat of a boyfriend," she explained, a hint of frustration in her voice. "It's like they can't take no for an answer unless they think you're taken."

Spencer nodded in agreement, glanced at her ciggarete and remarked, "6 minutes."

Brittany furrowed her brow in confusion. "What?" she asked

"That's what I used to tell my mom when she'd light a cigarette," Spencer explained, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A cigarette takes 6 minutes of your life, so every time she smoked one, I'd tell her that it's 6 minutes less I get to spend with her."

"That's sweet... I'm still gonna smoke. I only smoke when I drink. I don't know why..." Brittany trailed off, her voice carrying a hint of resignation.

Spencer interrupted her gently, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Actually, there's a psychological explanation for that," he began, his tone measured as he launched into an explanation.

"You see, smoking and drinking often go hand in hand because they both activate the brain's reward system. When you drink alcohol, it increases the levels of dopamine in your brain, which makes you feel good. Smoking can have a similar effect, releasing dopamine and other neurotransmitters that produce feelings of pleasure and relaxation."

Brittany listened intently as Spencer continued to explain, his words weaving a fascinating narrative about the intricate workings of the brain and its response to certain stimuli.

"Additionally, there's also the social aspect to consider," Spencer added. "Smoking is often associated with socializing and relaxation, so when you're out with friends and having a few drinks, the urge to smoke can be especially strong."

Brittany nodded thoughtfully, absorbing Spencer's words with interest. "That makes sense," she mused, a newfound understanding dawning in her eyes.

"Yeah, it's all about the brain's response to different stimuli and the associations we make with certain behaviors," he concluded, his voice warm with enthusiasm.

He smiled as Brittany hummed in response, the sound of her exhaling smoke mingling with the cool evening air. He watched her for a moment, noticing the way her features softened in contemplation, her gray eyes reflecting the glow of the streetlights.

As they continued walking, the realization slowly dawned on them that they were both heading in the same direction. Spencer cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

"So, uh, which way are you headed?" he asked, his tone casual but tinged with curiosity.

Brittany glanced at him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Funny enough, I live just a few blocks from here," she replied, her voice warm with surprise.

Spencer's eyes widened in realization. "Really? Me too," he exclaimed, a sense of serendipity settling over him.

Brittany chuckled softly, a twinkle in her eye. "Looks like we're neighbors then," she remarked, her tone light and playful.

"Yeah, it seems that way," he replied.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fanfics #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfic #i'm such a fool for you

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