#random ideas that pop into my head late at night

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington hc #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff

[norrizzandpia]

You Don’t Even Know What She Looks Like? (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: none, very fluffy

Note: aww my first Spencer Reid fic! I hope you all like it <3

The BAU had only ever heard about Y/n. Never did Spencer show pictures of her or give descriptions on her appearance because he wanted to keep the majority of her to himself for as long as he could. Even though she had told him numerous times that showing them pictures and giving them more than the occasional chaotic story was completely fine by her, he never could bring himself to. That was until he started being away a lot more because of a continuous string of cases, making it harder for him to see her outside of the office. The first time she asked to bring him food when he was up late at the office doing paperwork, he declined, rambling about how he didn’t want to have to deal with all the screaming that would go on from the introduction of his girlfriend.

However, the second time she asked, he had had a hard case, one filled with innocent children and one that hurt him the most. As he sat in the chair of his desk, eyes staring at the wall as everyone around him scribbled down words onto paper, he knew he needed to see her. He would’ve left right then and there, but the stack of folders sitting to his left made him completely reject the efficiency of that idea. So, when her name popped up on his phone with a small plea to bring him food, knowing he hadn’t eaten as much as he should with the case, Spencer couldn’t say no.

”Guys,” He said, standing from his chair and turning so he could face the rest of the team.

Everyone’s eyes averted to him. Morgan leaning back in his chair, “What’s up, pretty boy?”

He twiddled his thumbs, “Don’t freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

At this, Emily and JJ perked up. Penelope, the woman passing by in the hall and overhearing his suspicious sentence, slid into the bullpen.

With everyone’s slow nodding, Spencer broke the news, “My girlfriend is coming in to bring me food.”

”WHAT?” Penelope shouted, completely disregarding his wish for them to be calm. She dropped the folder in her hands, not concerned that classified information lay beneath, and sprinted over to the tall man she knew as her friend.

She shook him, her hands on his shoulders, “SPENCER, ARE YOU MEANING TO TELL ME I’M ABOUT TO MEET YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!”

He giggled, “Yes,”

Morgan gave a glance to Rossi, who was standing against the railing and smirking, before standing from his own chair and making his way over to Penelope, prying her off Spencer, “Okay, babygirl, Spencer asked us to be calm about this.”

She turned to him, eyes widened, “Calm? No way will I be calm about this.”

”I’m with her on this one. Sorry.” Emily admitted, the woman standing next to JJ as the two joined the group.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “Seriously, guys. Don’t scare her away.”

Rossi cocked his head, “Scare her away? If you haven’t already after six months, I’m sure we won’t.”

Spencer frowned just as Penelope yelped, “Is that her?!”

Spencer turned his head to the door of the bullpen, seeing a blonde woman emerge from behind it. He shook his head with a laugh, “Penelope, no. That’s not her. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

Penelope stuck her tongue out at him just as JJ hollered, “That her?”

A random stranger passing by, Spencer shook his head once more.

Morgan joined in, “What about her?”

A man. Morgan pointed to a man. Spencer gave him a glance as Morgan giggled, never getting bored over a good teasing.

Emily tried to guess as well, “Hey! What about her?”

”No! Guys, I will tell you when she’s here.” Spencer said with a slight annoyance. His girlfriend had just texted him she would go to get his food. There was no way she was here yet.

The group got tired after a moment of pointing out random women and all fell back into their paperwork. After about ten minutes, Spencer stood from his desk.

Everyone in the BAU froze.

When he saw their stares, he laughed, “I’m just going to the bathroom. She’s not here yet, but if you stare at her like that when she comes, I swear to God she will run the other way.”

”Hey!” Emily exclaimed, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him as he pushed open the door and turned down the hallway.

There was silence for about three minutes seeing as Spencer wasn’t there, watching his mannerisms and determining if Y/n was close or not out the window with him gone.

A creek sounded throughout the floor as the door was pushed open. Y/n stood, with a white plastic bag in her hand, looking out at the people working at their desks. They completely missed the entrance. With no eyes on her, she moved to Spencer’s desk and placed the bag on top. Her eyes glazed over everyone before she cleared her throat, “Um, does anyone know where Spencer is?”

Morgan’s head snapped up as JJ and Emily stopped writing. Rossi’s door swung open and he stepped out forcefully, not graceful in the slightest. As if she was summoned, Penelope flew through the door of the BAU, almost tripping on her heel as she returned from her hibernation in her office.

With all eyes now on her, Y/n blushed slightly. Spencer had mentioned that everyone would be a bit overbearing, but she didn’t know even the smallest thing like their stares would be intimidating.

Penelope moved toward her first, looking at her as if she was an alien, “Are you Y/n?”

Y/n nodded and the entire group erupted into loud overlaps of coos and compliments. Spencer’s girlfriend stood in the midst of them all, being pulled into Penelope’s arms as the colorful woman hugged her tightly. JJ and Emily told her they loved the way she had styled her hair, asking how she had done it, and Morgan interrogated her on how Spencer had managed to “smooth talk” her. Rossi just nodded his head at her and extended his hand, murmuring his name and how nice it was to meet her.

Spencer was walking back from the bathroom, down the hall, when he heard the excited voices. He knew then and there what the situation was, and his feet began to pick up. He was practically running toward the BAU glass door and when he reached it, he yanked it open.

Everyone turned to him, his girlfriend’s face peeking out from behind them all and he immediately softened. The twinkle in her eye, the blush on her face, he could tell she appreciated finally being given the opportunity to meet his chosen family. Spencer wondered why he even waited to introduce her in the first place.

The man made long strides across the office, muscling through the small number of bodies before getting an arm’s length away from Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist.

He turned to everyone, smiling widely as his hand smoothed over her back lovingly, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend. Now, you can pick her out of a crowd.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!readr #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

[cherubify]

SERVICE CHARGE / LEON KENNEDY

6.5k words, based on this

cw: waitress f!reader, blackmail, stalker, power abuse, noncon, dubcon, (unprotected) p-in-v, fellatio, spanking, implied cunnilingus, dirty talk, corruption kink, breeding, lack of aftercare, mentions of blood (no bloodplay) / minors dni

a/n: big thanks to @xoxostarlet for beta reading! pls check out her work it's vry yummy! n thanks for 50+ follows!! also i hc this as post re4 leon bcs of my og drabble but it can be di/ vendetta leon too it works even bttr ok bye!!

Leon’s not quite sure why he’s so taken with you– a girl waitering at your family’s restaurant, a dingy place in the outskirts of the city. Maybe it’s because he’s a simple guy- sees a pretty, little thing and can’t help but fantasise about you. You’re younger than he’d like, but old enough to warrant his wandering gaze at the way your oil stained apron wraps around your perfect waist, at the knotted ribbon you always messily tie that rests on the swell of your cheeks. You’re practically an angel in his eyes, your halo the form of a sloppily tied hair bun that sits atop your head with unruly strands sticking out.

Maybe it’s because you’re quite a character- armed with rather polite comebacks and one liners that you dish out to ungrateful, difficult customers. Of course, you’re so well loved by the regulars (him included) that you barely have to lift a finger to kick them out yourself. Everyone here in this tiny family restaurant loved you, their perfect waitress with the perfect smile. You’re enthusiastic about your mundane job too, fast on your feet and even faster with your words when running through demanding orders.

Maybe it’s because you’re still so young that you have this amount of energy. Or maybe it’s because of the lack of hired hands that you had to work with ten times the amount of energy you should normally exert. He remembers caring more about details and the nitty gritty things when he was your age. But he digresses.

Whatever it is, he thinks you’re quite the charmer. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he’d like to make it known to you. But the trouble lies in your denseness. You’re beyond saving with how each of his flirtatious comments would fly over your head, soar, even. With how clueless you were, it was a safe bet to assume you were a dumb little girl who had yet to have her cherry popped. Just a silly virgin playing the pretence of an adult.

Oh right, that’s another reason why he’s so taken by you. The idea of ruining you was exhilarating– worth the trouble of driving for half an hour after work to this hole in the wall just to see you. He finds himself wondering how you’d look bent over the tiny bathroom sink in the back of the shop, jeans pooling at your ankles as he eats your cute butt. Oh, how he’d love to unravel you with only a thin door separating you and your customers and parents.

He has to thank his superiors for meeting you. If it weren’t for that random party they held that night, he probably would never have touched this decrepit store. (For him, an hour away from home meant one less hour to kiss his bed.) That night you had introduced yourself as their waitress and patiently guided them through the menu with recommendations.

The waitress before him with quite the looker, pretty despite the mess on her apron and the sweat that clung to the nape of her neck. How old were you? In your late teens– or maybe your blossoming twenties? He searched your eyes for answers, while you tucked your loose hair behind your ear and waited patiently for his table to decide. He made small talk because that’s something he’s gotten good at with the ladies.

“Quite the establishment you’ve got running here.” He commented as he gestured at the rowdiness with his eyes. You snapped out of your frozen daze to meet his blue eyes. Was this hottie talking to you? You swallowed nervously and wrung your fingers together.

“Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s always like this after eight til closing hours. These guys trod in here after work and take it out with booze.”

“I can see that. Your parents own the place, hun?” He asked.

“For twenty years. Going stronger than ever,” you nodded. He smiled and asked for your name, and you willingly gave it with a demure smile.

Your name fits you, perfect for an angel such as yourself, he thought. His coworkers paid you little attention in their drunken state; this was their second round of restaurant hopping. Leon had to remain sober to chauffeur them home, and he was glad that he was sober enough to see and not forget you. You wouldn’t become a blurred image, a forgotten ghost in his memories as a result of intoxication. He was glad he was the only one who would remember this encounter.

On the way out, he had an arm supporting his fallen coworker. You held the door open, not minding the men who leaned lifelessly against his car like mannequins. You seemed amused, casual about the blacked out group that left the store blacked out drunk. Must have seen it a lot, he assumed.

“Do patronise us again, Mr Kennedy. Preferably when it’s not rush hour,” you had chuckled lightly.

And if such a pretty girl like you asked so sweetly, who was he to deny you? So he came as often as he could. You were always busy with attending to other customers, barely having enough time to sacrifice for idle chatter. He needed idle chatter, enough to grow your curiosity in him to be interested.

To get your attention, he would pull out a lighter (an expired one of his, a convincing prop) and click it a few times, cigarette pursed between his lips. And somehow, miraculously over the sea of rowdy customers you always heard it. The clicking over the cacophony in the restaurant. And like clockwork, you would storm over to warn him not to smoke inside.

“Mr Kennedy!” You placed your hands on your hips, frowning. Your brows were scrunched up in a disapproving frown whilst a pout played on your lips.

“It’s Leon,” he said while pocketing the bud and lighter. The grin on his face of hardened features made him look way younger– but you snapped out of your thoughts to fold your arms across your chest.

“Well, Leon,” he shivered at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. A buttery sound, gentle but firm like your nature. “I told you we don’t allow smoking in our shop. If you want, there’s a quiet alley beside us for it.”

“I know, I know,” he shrugged, and you’d roll your eyes in feigned annoyance before asking for his order.

You placed his menu before him, and without opening it, he recited his usual. And this cycle occurred over and over again like a broken record. Your reactions were the same, albeit less exasperated each time as you got used to his antics. He could tell– he was starting to grow on you.

He would leave generous tips for you too thanks to his expandable wallet. You know, for the service charge. The first few visits you fought to return the money because even though you were poor and desperate, you weren’t going to accept hundreds like it was nothing!

“Mr Ke- Um, Leon. I really can’t accept this,” you shook your head and pushed the stack of bills to his chest.

“Just take it. For the great service.”

“I really can’t, you always leave me no choice.” You frowned but pocketed it anyway. Couldn’t argue with the man who loomed over you even with a counter separating him from you. It made you nervous, and you lacked the heart to push, unlike with other customers.

“Why can’t you?” The blonde asked as you showed him out. Holding the door with your back, you shook your head.

“My parents already think you’re a mafioso with the amount of money you tip. Anymore and I don’t know what they’ll make of you!”

Aw, you were concerned for him? Little ol’ him? He wanted to swipe a thumb over the pout playing on your plush lips and kiss you. Kiss you and lead you to the alleyway beside your family store and take you then and there. How would you react to that, he wondered? Would you be happy?

He was answered instantly when your eyes lit up at something behind him. He turned to see a beat down Toyota in the driveway, and a skinny guy clambered out with a backpack, books in hand. Your face glowed radiantly. Leon wondered what you saw in that awkward boy. You bid Leon goodbye with a stutter and led the boy in, leaving poor Leon to stand on the porch with a disgruntled expression and stinging in his chest. He knew the answer to his earlier question: probably not, because you already had a thing for someone else.

Leon visited again during one of your quieter shifts. During a weekday, on his time off. You sat in the corner of the store with the same boy while doing homework together. When he said something, your face lit up and you laughed toothily. A genuine, earnest and bright smile. Something he never got to witness, receiving only your customer service smiles when he cracked his best jokes for you.

But he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you for long. It couldn’t be helped that you were just a doe-eyed girl who didn’t know how to appreciate him. No matter, he could teach you how. Since you were lacking the brain cells to even try. But first, he had to do something about that boy.

It was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Just a few documents and the boy’s home was evicted. He knew the rest, but as you sat across Leon, face buried in your arms as you shared the story, he listened. It was like playing a video game and being spoiled of its ending. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side as you sniffled about your new ex-boyfriend. Your first one, too. He really helped you dodge a bullet, and you should be thanking him instead of ruining his dinner table with your tears. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the store but you two. (And your parents as they watched from the kitchen. His eyes met theirs, and they whispered not so discreetly to one another and he smirked.) He patted your head, and you flinched at the unexpected weight on your head. He mussed your hair with a (fake) smile.

“It’s all gonna work out, I promise.”

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed. But you nodded anyway. Good, as you should. You need not question him; just listen and obey.

Months easily passed as he played this game of cat and mouse with you. You, the unsuspecting mouse, who had grown to trust him. Fondly, maybe. He knew what you saw in him- a reliable, honest regular who gave you good advice and helped you at times in need. And it was true, from the goodness of his heart, he was at your every beck and call. And he would be forevermore, even if you rebuked him to the depths of hell, where he rightfully belonged.

So one day, when you looked worse for wear, he asked if something was up. You shared with a tired smile that you’ve been struggling to focus in class lately due to the influx of new customers. A food critic had written a blog post about the store and business boomed. He had to find out who the culprit was and take down their site, but that was for later.

He perked up when you shared that you wanted to put flyers around the neighbourhood to hire more workers. So he offered to help. He had a car, so he could spread the word further and get the job done faster than on foot, he reasoned.

“Thank you so much. You’re the best, Leon!”

Your eyes shone with relief and you threw your arms around him. He caught you, albeit with surprise. You showered him with gratitude while clinging to him as he sat, shellshocked in his seat.

Your first hug. Your curves were soft against his hardened one, and his hands itched to hug you back, to trail down your smaller body and feel you through your work clothes. But Leon steadied himself- he had to win the game in the long run, he couldn’t afford to drop out of the race so soon. The blonde retreated his hands and cleared his throat, and you practically crawled off him. Your hand bumped into the tent between his pants, but thankfully you were too flustered to notice.

“U-Um, I’ll pay you back,” you had said, and you offered him a shy smile. “Not that I have much but I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

“How about a kiss?” He prompted with a lopsided smile. Oops, that was an impulsive move. Like chasing the king’s piece while neglecting the imposing queen a few tiles away. Said queen being your parents, who stared at you disapprovingly like you had shed your angelic wings for those of a demon’s.

Your mouth gaped open for a moment but then you shook your head. “You shouldn’t tease me,” you whispered, hands rubbing your arms awkwardly.

His face fell, but he recovered with a boyish grin.

“Just pulling your leg. ‘S all good!”

It wasn’t good. His plans crumbled because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now it was awkward between you two. He found the papers you put up yourself and threw them onto the passenger seat, a messy pile with the share you had given him for his part. He clicked his tongue and shredded the flyers that you painstakingly designed, tossing the pieces out the window as he raced down the highway home in his car. He had to push harder, find other ways to corner you so you wouldn't be able to refuse him. Not again.

Once he reached home, he practically inhaled his shirt, where your scent faintly clung. It was intoxicating, the heat of your body pressed against his and the smell of your sweat mixed with your natural scent. God, you knew how to rile him up without even trying. His cock was painfully hard in his fist as he laid on his bed, stroking himself with his jacket to his face.

When he arrived at the establishment the next day he found you in the back– in the kitchen– where you hung your head in shame while scrubbing dishes. He had caused quite the scene in the store; your father had mustered the courage to warn him (albeit politely) not to lay a hand on his precious daughter. It was quite funny, the man shook like a leaf as he weakly poked a finger into Leon’s chest. It was astonishing and hilarious at how his voice choked whilst dishing out empty threats of what he’d do to Leon if he messed with his girl. All the while your back faced him, unwilling to speak for the next few weeks.

Your parents had taken it on themselves to switch shifts with you whenever he appeared. They practically had his visiting hours memorised too, so it wasn’t like he could waltz in whenever he pleased. They were a pain, an overprotective bunch. For a grown up miss like yourself, it was a wonder why they were still so protective. Probably because they could recognise a wolf in sheep's clothing the moment he walked into their restaurant a second time, eyes prowling until they landed on you.

It mattered not because he would have his way whether they approved or not. He needed no consent form, and not from you either.

…

Your family’s restaurant was on the ground floor of a little building you stayed in. Your residency was located on the second floor, off limits to customers by a locked door. Nothing a little lock picking could solve, thankfully.

Nobody but you was home, he made sure of that when he saw your parents leave in their car. He wasn’t quite sure where you were, but when the sound of running water leaked into the empty hallway, a smile creeped onto his face. His eyes fell on one door that was coloured differently from the rest. There you were. The door creaked ajar, and he peered from the thin gap to see you standing in a glass box. It was humid, water vapour swirled around the bathroom whilst condensation fogged the shower, leaving him little but enough to see.

The shower was turned off, and your hands mindlessly trailed down your body as you scrubbed it with a loofa. You bent over, reaching for your toes, and Leon almost burst in to take you there himself. The growing tightness in his pants hurt, and hell your perfect ass was beckoning him like a sailor to a siren’s call. You hummed softly, blissfully unaware of the man ogling your flushed, naked body.

He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shakily took out his phone. The sound of the camera clicking was muffled by the echoing sound of the shower as you sung your silly song. When he had his fill, he took one last longing glance before closing the door behind him.

Women spend forever in showers. Assuming this, he snuck into your room. It was simple, save for the abnormal mountains of plushies that lined your bed and your shelves. Japanese merchandise everywhere– he recognised a smaller white bear next to a much bigger brown one. Rilakkuma, or something. You had quite the collection. Were you fans of those bears? Should he gift you some? Ah, but your parents would toss them into the fire. As his mind somersaulted from one reckless thought to another, he noticed a laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He sauntered over and peered at its contents with sparkling blue eyes. He lifted your sweaters and produced a white one with a pink bow on the front. Your used panties. His heart hammered in his chest as he held it with trembling fingers. The blonde sniffed the damp patch on the gusset and groaned. His dick was already aching to be freed earlier when he saw you in the shower. Now his balls were clenching and screaming for release.

But it would be a waste to stop now. He didn’t know when you would return. So he pocketed the article of clothing and continued rummaging through your possessions.

He even went through your closet to inspect your collection. What were you into? Did you have a specific brand you frequented? Did you prefer lace or silk? Or cotton, like the one snug and warm in his pocket?

He found a matching set of lace underwear sat in the back of a drawer, a translucent design with roses and ribbons. He inspected it curiously– were you waiting to use them? Were you planning on wearing this for your ex-boyfriend? His lips curled into a snarl. It was a good thing he had gotten the kid off your radar. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see you in such scandalous lingerie. Only he should have the privilege of doing so. His mind raced with thoughts as he traced a finger along the strap of your bra.

Then your door creaked and you swung it open. He turned his head to see you, standing at the doorway wrapped in a fluffy towel that hugged your chest and hung above your knees. Your wet hair clung to your face, rivulets cascaded down your flushed skin. When your eyes met his, you froze. Wide eyes met his.

Uh oh.

Before you could scream, Leon lurched forward and clamped a hand over your mouth. He shushed you softly, mirroring your wide eyed expression.

“I know it looks bad,” he whispered. The force against your mouth prevented you from speaking. You began trembling as his lips inched closer, “But I don’t mean any harm.”

“Mmhmm?!” You mumbled against his palm. He withdrew and you gasped, stepping back while hugging your damp, shivering frame. “Leon, you can’t be here. This- This level is off limits to customers!”

“But I’m not just a customer,” he spread his arms. He slowly approached, footsteps thudding against the carpet, “And c’mon, you like me, right?”

Your eyes were ready to pop out of your skull. “Like you? I mean- Yes but- but not like- Like…” You squeaked as your back thumped against your door. Your hand reached behind and blindly searched for the doorknob. When you finally caught it, the blonde slammed a hand beside your head.

His face inched forward, a frown contorted on his handsome, hardened features. “Like what?” He breathed. You shivered at his warm breath fanning your cold skin. Hesitation paralysed your tongue, and as you struggled to speak, he clasped your jaw with his hand. His questioning, cold gaze was unlike the usual warmth he carried. And it scared you. You swallowed and choked out.

“...Not like lovers.”

A silence ensued between the two of you. The birds outside your window chirped with fervour, as if you weren’t cornered by your customer whom you had grown to trust over the past couple of months. His thick brows knitted tightly against his forehead as he gripped your jaw harshly. You winced, his bruising touch hurt and your hands clawed at his wrist. His nose wrinkled with displeasure as his eyes darkened. He was disappointed, but he couldn’t deny that he saw it coming. Didn’t sting any less.

“So that’s what you think of me,” he spat. Then he smashed his lips against yours and yanked your towel off your body. Your hands flew to his chest as you desperately pushed, a muffled scream on your lips as you resisted. Leon gripped your wrists and slammed them over your head against the door whilst slotting a knee between your trembling legs.

You tried to shout but he shoved his tongue into your mouth and embraced yours in a passionate tango. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t stop him as he shut you up with fervent kisses that sent shocks down your spine. His knee rubbed against your slit, and he bumped into your clit purposefully, eliciting a whine from your saliva stained lips. He pulled away to look at you– and gods, you were so beautiful. So pliant for him, so–

“Help!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs. But your head snapped to the side, and you stared blankly at his shoes. Your cheek stung, pulsating with a dull throb as you placed a hand over where he had slapped you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you refused to look up at him. You tried to run again, but this time he dragged you over to your bed and pushed you down.

Then he flipped open his phone and showed you his photos. You gaped in shock at the hundreds of blurry yet distinct shower pics in his album. The focal point? You.

He met your concerned gaze with a half-lidded one. He spoke quietly and slowly as he held the device over your face.

“You can run, but all it takes is one push and I’ll have this photo publicised everywhere. You wouldn’t want to ruin your parent’s business… right?”

More tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled with a sob. He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lashes fluttered close as your tears slid down your damp cheeks while the water from your undried hair seeped into your sheets. His voice was a broken record as your vision darkened.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright…”

The rest was a blur. All you remembered was foggy vision and searing skin. But Leon remembered it all. You put up quite an impressive fight for a little girl like you. You had landed a blow in his temple and sent him reeling into your bed frame. But you were too weak to run, thanks to all the love bites he left around your inner thighs and legs that left you tingly and numb. You tried to crawl away, but even then it was pointless.

For the most part, you were pretty compliant. Like the good girl you were, you spread your legs prettily when asked and even nursed his cock with your lewd tongue, eyes glazed with tears and self-hate whilst he ate your pussy out. Hell, the rumours were true. Virgins gave the best head. You let him cum down your throat too, like the good girl you were. Your mouth pussy was so tight that he swore he saw angels flapping above him. And the cherry on top was when he finally hilted inside you, becoming one at last.

You laid quietly on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was damp, unlike your body which blazed with an ungodly heat that only hell could compete with. Your heart thumped in your chest, a rhythm unmatched with Leon’s. You couldn’t see his face, and it was probably best this way.

He was your first– a fact you had to come to terms with. You sniffled softly. Even though he forced himself on you, he still made sure to make it not hurt too much. It was too easy to give in to his touches– so you failed to put up a decent struggle. A single tear slid down your flushed cheek. You hated that he was so gentle yet so cruel with you.

For Leon, you would be his last, because he swore he’d never let go of you. He would make you his. Physically first, emotionally second, whatever the order mattered little to him. Because you were now bound to him, your souls intertwined in ways your bodies could never attempt to achieve.

He stared up at the ceiling. There was so much to do, and so much time now that you were his. Today felt good. Great. Pride glowed in his chest and he kissed your damp hair tenderly. You were finally his. Finally his to take and to train.

…

“L-Leon!” you squealed, clawing at the sink that he had bent you over. Jeans and panties pooled at your ankles, sitting on your dirty sneakers. Your lips were bleeding because you bit them to stop your screams.

You always had the wildest reactions to whatever he did. Was it because you were a nervous wreck? It’s been barely a month since he started breaking you in. Quite a bit of time to get accustomed to his antics. Looks like you needed more practice, he mentally noted.

“Shut up,” he hissed, rising to his full length to tower over you. His chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the heat pressed between your butt. “Be quiet or they’re gonna find us.”

You held his gaze in the bathroom mirror, and he placed his hands over yours as you still gripped the sink. Your hair had come undone, a mess that framed your flushed face as you panted softly. Goodness, you looked like a wreck. No thanks to the smug bastard behind you.

The blonde took pride in his work and belted out a laugh. A smack on your ass reeled you over the sink again, and you glared at him. Your eyes screamed: aren’t you a hypocrite? But he answered with a boyish grin that gave you butterflies. The damned smile of the devil himself.

His zipper travelled south and he popped himself out of his pants. He stroked it mindlessly before spinning you around so that you faced him. You stared at him incredulously and he gestured with a nod of his chin.

Leon needed no words, you knew what he wanted. Your bare knees hit the sticky bathroom tiles as you knelt, on tiles where its corners were cracked and filled with dirt that religiously lined its crevices. You took his semi-hard on in your little hand, and it twitched to stand at full length. It curved towards his toned abdomen, jumping in your loose hold. The head was flushed, beads of precum dotted the circumference of the tip.

You looked up at him and licked tentatively. He inhaled through his teeth as you gave him puppy licks, teasing the tip with the curve of your tongue while languidly stroking his cock. His hands carded through your hair, pushing back your stray hairs so that he could see you better. So pretty and willing for him, he grinned, and so eager to please.

A broken moan fell from his lips as you suckled on the tip like a baby on a pacifier. He tugged your hair backwards, and you frowned at him but took him in your mouth fully. You swallowed around his length, and it jumped in your throat as he clamped a hand on your head. He held you steady as he thrust his hips, fucking your throat deep and slow like he liked. He was never the kind of guy to rush a process in sex. Not when your mouth pussy was the perfect toy in the world. All for him to monopolise and use.

He chewed on his bottom lip and groaned. “So good. ‘S perfect for me, shit- Good girl. Taking my cock with your mouth so well- fuck…” He babbled mindlessly, drowning in his pleasure as you clutched the back of his ankles. You gripped onto the scratchy fabric with your fingernails and moaned around his length. Suddenly, somebody knocked.

“Hey. Are you there, (y/n)?” Your father called out. You stared up at Leon in terror, but he was too preoccupied with your throat hugging his dick to even care. You gagged when he jabbed his dick against your gummy walls.

You glared at him with teary eyes, and he gestured at your nose- no doubt reminding you to breathe with it. Gently slapping his legs, you tried to free yourself with a warning look. Leon rolled his eyes and called out, “You’ve got the wrong person. It’s just me.”

“Oh-” your dad recognised him, and he hesitated before saying, this time louder. “(y/n)’s missing, I can’t find her anywhere.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s upstairs,” He grinned as he thrust into your mouth. You gagged again, and he chuckled softly as he stroked the top of your head. “Perhaps she’s taking a shower.”

As if something clicked in you, your eyes widened in fear and you tried to pull away frantically. Not that he’d let you, as he held your head in place from the back, fingers tangled with your hair as he dug his blunt nails into your scalp. A warning to remind you of your place. You complied with a weakened grasp on his pants as you lowered your eyes.

Your father muttered incoherently before stomping away. When a minute passed, Leon finally pulled out and you gasped exaggeratedly, a hand rubbing your sore throat.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you whisper shouted through coughs. The fight in your eyes had returned as you leaned against the wall, pants still pooled around your ankles. The man you mistook for a kind person was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along, a ravenous beast that ravaged you whenever he fancied. You knew that now. If only you had known sooner, then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

“You know you like it,” he said in a sing song voice. You crinkled your forehead as he lowered the toilet seat cover and sat on top of it.

He spread his legs and leaned back. His dick twitched against his stomach. Its length shined with your saliva and blood from your busted lips. Your chest tightened as he coaxed you with the wave of his hand.

“C’mon, finish what you started.”

…

Your parents were on to the two of you faster than he’d expected. There was one time when he almost found Leon and you in the restaurant’s kitchen. If it weren’t for the locked door, he was sure your dad (if he could muster the strength) would chop his balls off and frame them above his bed like a banner. That was how much he had grown to detest the regular, evident in the way he would wordlessly slam his dishes down on his table. Maybe he knew what had transpired in the toilet that day. How he fucked your ass and brains out in the toilet til you were a whimpering, unthinking mess. The store had to close for the day because of the lack of help on the sales floor.

Your dad even refused the fat tips for his wonderful service. Oh, whatever shall Leon do?

Your mother was also a bit of a tough crowd. Eyes sharp with distrust, always keeping her daughter by her side in the kitchen. Her death grip on the butcher knife would’ve been frightening if it weren’t for her trembling knees when he gazed her way. Maybe she also knew of that one time he made you squirt in your parent's room, coating their bedroom mirror with your shared fluids as he pressed you against it. Quite the overprotective parents they were.

And for the other regulars, they continued fantasising about their lovely waitress. Not knowing that she was taken by a traitor among them, a guy that kept to himself in the corners, lighter in hand as he lured your attention as always. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you always found yourself in his arms time and time again.

Your parents were in their room next door as you sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. Two bodies clung desperately together, wrapped in a sweaty embrace as he cupped your plush ass cheeks in his hands, hoisting you up and then dropping you so you’d slam down on his length. His eyes, muddied with desire, were locked with yours as your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. A pile of underwear, his and yours– the lacey one with roses and ribbons (from ages ago)– were tangled on the carpet indiscreetly.

Your hands wandered up and down his scarred back. The tip of his cock jabbed against your cervix, and you whimpered against his lips. Fingernails dug into the scar on his shoulder, an indented wound that caused him to exhale through gritted teeth.

“Leon-” you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. Your nose bumped into his as he bounced you, “-I love you. I love- mhn… love you so much…”

The blonde could barely hear your muffled words over the incessant creaking of your bed. But he nuzzled your nose, a smile playing on his flushed face.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “Love you so much, baby.”

He slowed down his ministries and embraced your lips with delicate kisses. With his twitching cock buried in the depths of your sticky, pulsing cunt, you moaned his name and angled your head for more. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace as you stayed like this, sloppily kissing while basking in the moonlight that seeped from your curtains.

You grinded your softness against his body, chest mushed on his sweaty pectorals. A mewl fell from your swollen lips as you gazed at him longingly. “More, need more.”

“Fuck,” he inhaled shakily. He swiped his thumb under the crease of your eye. “You’re such a needy thing. Drunk on my cock this quick already, hm?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “‘Cause it’s you.”

The man laughed quietly– he swore there were butterflies in his stomach. They fluttered around in his depths as if he wasn’t currently balls deep in you. God, he was so whipped for you. He was such a lucky man– he didn’t deserve your smile.

He carefully flipped you over and placed you on your knees. You rested your head on the sheets, leaned forward to tilt your butt towards him. It rested on your crack, and a giggle bubbled from you when you wriggled against his cock. A playful smack on one cheek echoed in your room. You would shoot him death glares whenever he did that. But today you moaned into the sheets and smooshed your ass against his torso for more.

Fuck, he grimaced. How did you get this lewd? Oh it was thanks to him. With his ego mightily stoked, he chuckled and soothed the hand mark with another.

Leon gripped your waist with one hand, another spreading your cheeks to get a better view as he slid himself into your wetness. You were always a tight fuck, gripping hard enough to snap him in half, but today’s descent into you had him arching his own back in bliss. It was like you were trying to milk his balls worth, like you wanted a bun in the oven tonight.

You gritted your sheets in your teeth, strings of drool snaking down your chin as your body rocked up and down the bed. Muffled moans rose in pitch as he speared your insides, his hipbone smashing into your jiggling ass with the relentless snapping of his hips. Dishevelled threads of blonde hair hung over his tightly lidded eyes, bouncing as he chased his high.

“Fuck fuck fuck. I love you. You’re mine-” he rambled as he slammed into your womb punishingly. “-Gonna breed you with my kids. You want that? Fuck, say you want it!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you babbled his name brokenly. Garbled ‘yes’s fell from your quivering lips, and he snaked a hand under you to slap your clit with his calloused, scarred palm. You gasped and he shoved your head into the mattress when you cried his name in pleasure. A few more slaps and you were trembling like a leaf, your upper body totally collapsed onto the bed like a used doll. Your walls gripped him tightly, ripping out a deep moan from Leon. Then he pressed his hips flushed to your quivering butt and emptied his seed into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, the heat spread to the rest of your body as you hummed softly in approval. You collapsed entirely on the bed, and his dick slipped out with a soft sound. Stained with rings of cream, it hung limply between his toned thighs, and you weakly crawled over to run your tongue along one of its veins.

Leon’s cock twitched on your tongue. Amused, he took his phone and snapped a picture of you. He held the screen beside your face, gazing at the matching blissed out expressions you carried in both. He pushed your hair behind your ear as you nuzzled against his leg. Your eyes began fluttering shut, and he gently adjusted your limp body so that you laid down beside him. He pulled your blanket over the two of you and held you flushed to his chest. Your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and he pecked your forehead with his lips.

You deserved a bigger tip the next time he visited. For your generous customer service. He made a mental note and closed his eyes, too tired to care about the rattling of your doorknob across the room.

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil oneshot #leon kennedy x you smut #cw: smut #cw: noncon #cw: dubcon #cw: blackmail #cw: stalker #cw: breeding #cw: blood #minors dni #minors do not interact #dead dove do not eat

[sapphic-gardn]

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller apologist #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #dbf!joel miller

[phas3d]

Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo x reader

[steddiealltheway]

Steve wakes up and feels like his head is being split into two. The light coming from his blinds is too bright, his mouth is dry as hell and tastes like shit, and why is his body so sore?

Yeah, fuck, he needs to stop drinking.

He groans and turns only to find that he's not alone in his bed. Oh, and he's definitely naked. Shit.

He tries to rack his brain last night for any type of memory as he checks the girl out. She's facing away from him and her wild curly hair is a mess scattered all over her face and Steve's pillow. But he gets distracted because the stranger has kicked off the blanket sometime in the middle of the night and well... she has a really nice ass.

Steve tears his eyes away. Maybe they didn't sleep together, and, if so, it is entirely not okay for him to stare.

...but it's a really nice ass... Plus, come on, they're both naked in his bed so...

A faint memory of the day before pops up. He remembers Robin, Nancy, and Eddie coming over at some point because they had planned to hang out earlier that day... right?

They definitely got into the pool at some point. At least, he and Eddie did if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't explain why this random stranger is in his bed and-

Wait... did he... did he kiss Eddie? Oh fuc-

The so-called stranger grunts in their sleep, and Steve's eyes snap to them. Yeah, he knows that curly mane and he has no idea how he didn't recognize it in the first place, and oh my god he was checking out Eddie Munson's ass. Is checking out his ass. Fuck, he needs to stop staring at his ass!

Steve does the only logical thing and shoves the blanket back over the boy and turns away. Okay, so all he has to do is put on some clothes, tiptoe the hell out of there, and pretend like nothing happened.

Because nothing happened... Right?

Right. Steve wakes up naked next to one of his best friends who is also naked and has been the subject of some of Steve's late-night thoughts for a while now and-

"Fuck," Eddie groans next to him and turns to lie on his back and brush the hair out of his face. "Where the fuck..." he trails off as he looks around squinting and blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Well, there goes Steve's plan of running out of there and pretending nothing happened. He watches as Eddie sits up, lifts the blankets to peek under them, and then puts them back down. "Hey Steve?"

"Yes Eddie?" Steve asks as he turns his head to stare at the ceiling.

"I'm naked," is all that Eddie says, no joking tone just kind of listing the facts.

Steve nods and replies, "Mhm."

"You're naked."

"Yep," Steve says and cringes before slowly sitting up. His back protests, and, Christ, what happened last night?

Eddie nods his head with his eyes wide. "So, uhhh, do you remember what happened? If... anything happened?"

Steve squints and tries to think but comes up with nothing except... "I think I may have kissed you."

Eddie lets out a deep breath and nods again. "So, we may have kissed at some point and now we're both naked in your bed..."

For some reason, Steve decides to just accept the facts and goes on to say, "Yeah, and I don't know about you, but I'm really sore. So, I think we..."

"Yeah because I'm sore as hell too."

Steve puts his head in his hands and sighs, "This is not how I wanted this to happen."

There's a panicked chuckle to his right, "Yeah, man, if you just want to pretend nothing happened we can totally- wait." Eddie pauses and Steve can feel the bed shift. "What do you mean this isn't how you wanted this to happen."

Oh shit. Steve glances over at Eddie whose eyebrows are raised as he waits for Steve to answer. "Uh," Steve starts and clears his throat then runs a hand through his hair. Might as well come clean about this. "Okay, well since this already happened, let's just say anything we say can be completely like forgotten along with last night if we want that."

"Okay..." Eddie says and nervously fidgets with a thread on Steve's blanket.

"So, I think it's probably clear now but uh... This is definitely not the first time I thought of you in... this way. And it sucks because I would never want our first time to be forgettable or hell, not consensual. Oh, fuck." Steve runs his hands through his hair. Oh fuck drunk him, he's never drinking again. "Eddie I'm so sorry that I may have taken advantage of you and-"

"Fuck, I was scared I had somehow taken advantage of you. You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Eddie says in what sounds like one breath.

Steve's heart races. "Really?"

Eddie nods and then laughs, "Of course, the only way I would ever confess something like this was if I was drunk off my ass. I should've known drinking so much around you was a bad idea."

"Shit," Steve says and laughs. Honestly, it sucks that he has absolutely zero memory of the night before, but he's almost grateful to have been drunk enough to get his feelings across to Eddie... well... sort of. "Hey Eddie?"

"Mhm?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair and notices it feels worse than usual but he'll have to figure that out later. "After I shower, brush my teeth, make us breakfast, and start feeling human again... do you want to actually do something memorable?"

"Steve, are you asking me if we can do the deed again? Because I am more than happy," Eddie says with a wide smile.

Steve groans, "Oh, please don't call it that."

Eddie laughs and launches into multiple horrible euphemisms for having sex that Steve will never be able to unhear.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve kisses Eddie sweetly and whispers against his lips that he has to call Robin and he'll be right back. Eddie tiredly just hums and burrows deeper into his pillow.

Steve wanders downstairs and laughs again at the line of clothes he and Eddie had at some point stripped off on the way to his bedroom from the night before. This is going to be an interesting call.

Steve dials Robin's number and is glad to hear it's her and not her mom. "Hey, Robin."

Robin groans, "Are you calling to apologize for what you and Eddie put us through last night?"

Oh, shit, what did they do in front of poor Robin and Nancy? Steve sits on his counter and frowns. "Actually, I was hoping that you would fill that part of the night in since neither of us remember."

There's a sigh on the other line before Robin launches into it, "Well, for some reason you two decided to see who could drink more which turn into the two of you wondering who could swim better drunk. Let me tell you, you both were seriously struggling out there but refused to admit it, but Nancy and I had to stay because we were too afraid you two would drown. Then, you both got out and said you were freezing, and Eddie told you how he had heard that people with hypothermia can get hot really fast when they huddle up naked under the sheets."

Oh shit.

"Then, Nancy and I had to witness you two drunkenly stumble your way up the stairs while trying to take off your clothes, and you two would not listen to us telling you that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Luckily, when we went to check on you two, you were both already passed out. Now tell me how awkward this morning was,"

So... soreness because of all the swimming in the pool. Stripping to get wet clothes off... and, "So you're telling me Eddie and I didn't get drunk and sleep together?"

Robin cackles on the other line, "Please tell me you dinguses really believed that."

Steve takes a deep breath and confesses, "Is it worse that we decided that if we had no memory of it then maybe we should make a memory of it?"

The cackling stops on the other line before Robin whispers, "No fucking way."

Steve nods then realizes Robin can't see him, but he remembers something and asks, "Wait, I remember kissing Eddie! What about that?"

There's a pause on the other line and Robin says, "Maybe that happened but..." There's another giggle on the line. Oh no.

"But what?"

"I think you're remembering when you kissed us all on the forehead and wished us goodnight - including Eddie."

Steve groans and sighs, but all things considered, "I'm really glad I didn't call you and ask you about it this morning," Steve confesses.

"Yeah?" Robin asks and Steve can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah," Steve says. "But I have no idea how I'm going to tell Eddie."

"Tell me what?"

Steve jumps and turns to find Eddie standing in the doorway to his kitchen.

"Have fun!" Robin says with another laugh before hanging up.

Steve sighs and starts, "So, funny story..."

Eddie ends up laughing his ass off while Steve sighs and goes on about how Robin will never let him live it down.

But he won't lie, he's absolutely relieved that his first time with Eddie was sober and entirely memorable. But he's also still convinced that drinking around Eddie is definitely a bad idea since he ended up sleeping without washing the chlorine out of his hair.

The things he does for Eddie Munson...

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #idiots to lovers

[atomicami]

omg HIII. could you maybe like- write abt like abby and reader at school (in college obvi) and abby pulls reader into a bathroom and like makes sure it’s empty and locks the door, and things get uh.. hot and heavy?🤭

U DONT HAVE TO IF U DONT WANNA BUT THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IM A SHIT WRITER AND HAVE SHIT GRAMMER.

btw, ur awesome.

hi anon! i hope you don’t mind, i changed the setting to a college/frat party instead, but i hope you like it though! tysm for the love 🤍

all clear

abby anderson x fem!reader (college au)

- summary: it’s halloweekend, and after a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agree to be dina’s plus one to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s frat house. the night flies by slow for you, until an encounter with a certain classmate changes that.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are in college (as stem majors), reader is a little introverted, frat house setting, college partying, some alcohol consumption, bathroom hookup, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), reader is wearing heels, and abby tells you to keep them on, nicknames instead of y/n (mostly angel), and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: happy halloween everyone! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block with my bfm!abby fic lately, so i have to admit the timing for this request was perfect since it gave me the inspiration to write out this fic. i hope you guys like it!

“I still don’t get why you won’t come join me.”

You let out a sigh, taking your eyes off of your laptop and looking over at Dina, who was currently getting ready.

“Because, Dina, I’ve told you a million times that parties are not my thing,” you reply. “Especially if it’s in one of those awful frat houses.”

For the past week now, Dina’s been trying to get you to come to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s fraternity, Sigma Chi. It’s known to be one of the biggest fraternities at your university, and it’s also known for throwing the biggest parties.

The thing is, unlike Dina, you could honestly care less about college parties. What was the point of drinking and partying all night long when you’d just end up passing out and forgetting everything the next morning? You didn’t see the fun in it. If anything, you’d rather be spending a Saturday night curled up in your bed with a movie than getting blackout drunk and waking up hungover on some random person’s couch.

Dina finishes zipping up her skirt before turning around to face you. “But it’s Halloweekend…Don’t you wanna get out of here for a bit, and have some fun?” she asks. “I seriously don’t get how our dorm doesn’t give you any claustrophobia.”

You let out a chuckle and roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine, Dee. Besides, I need to study for my chemistry midterm next week.”

Dina lets out a groan in response. “You’re seriously going to spend this night locked up in our dorm studying?” You watch as she walks over to your bed with her black over-the-knee boots in hand and sits down next to you to put them on. “I truly love you babe, but you have got to let loose a little.”

You look over to your side as Dina goes on while she zips up her boots. “Besides…” she continues, zipping up her second boot. “There’s a possibility that a certain classmate of yours might be there…” she says with a wink as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

The ‘certain classmate’ that Dina was referring to was Abigail Anderson. She was also a STEM major just like you, but particularly majoring more towards the engineering field instead. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find her attractive, but you never found the desire to go for her simply because you felt like she was out of your league. You figured that she only saw you as nothing more than a classmate who would always sit in the back row during every lecture.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at Dina. “Just because Abby and I have the same chemistry class doesn’t mean we have actual chemistry, you know.”

“Okay, but she’ll probably still be there…maybe this party could be an opportunity for you to create some of that chemistry…” she replies back, nudging your shoulder once again.

Dina was most likely right about that. Abby didn’t seem like much of a party person either, but her best friend Manny sure was. Coincidentally, both Manny and Jesse just happened to be in the same fraternity together, which created a mutual connection between the two of you. And given that both Abby and Manny were on the market right now, chances are that she was going to be at that party too.

But as much as Dina was trying to convince you to go right now, you were trying your best to hold back.

“Well even if I did want to go…I still have a midterm to study for, so I still can’t come,” you said, pointing toward your laptop screen.

Once you turned around, you didn’t see the smirk that was growing on Dina’s face. She was so close to getting you to give in and join this party with her.

You felt the weight of your bed shift as Dina got up and walked around to where she was now standing in front of you. “You can study tomorrow,” she says, closing your laptop shut. “Come on, we’re going to the frat house.”

“But I don’t have a—”

“You can find something in my closet.” she interrupts back, pointing towards her closet. “Now start getting ready, I'm gonna go fix up my hair so we can leave.”

You watch as Dina picks up the set of bunny ears off her bed and walks to the bathroom, the sound of her clicking boots following along with her. After a moment of hesitation, you finally muster up the energy to get off of your bed and walk over to Dina’s closet to pick something out.

Your eyes meet with a crammed closet of clothes once you open the doors of her closet. As a roommate, Dina was one to keep her things organized, but when it came to her clothes, it was like an addiction. Her closet was so packed that if one more hanger were to go inside, you’re convinced that it would probably burst.

Taking a deep breath, you dive into her closet and dig around for her past party costumes, praying you’ll find a good candidate to wear for the party. You’ll have to admit that it's definitely not gonna be an easy task, given that Dina is obsessed with all things tight and revealing when it comes to going out, especially with costumes.

You fish out a few costumes from her closet and bring them over to your bed, spreading them all out to get a good look. At first glimpse of the costumes, you realize that none of these options are a good fit for you, so you try your best to pick the best option through the process of elimination:

Schoolgirl? No…

Nurse? Not really…

Cowgirl? Perhaps…

Mermaid? Absolutely not.

Eventually, you’ve narrowed your choices until there was just one option left: an angel costume.

You pick up the costume off of your bed and take a look at it. The outfit consisted of a white tie front corset top, paired with a white skirt and thigh highs, and topped off with a halo and large feathered wings. Out of all the costumes that Dina had in her collection, you figured that this one would be the most suitable for you.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Dina now fully ready in her Playboy bunny costume. She smiles once she sees the costume in your hands. “That’s a perfect choice, and I even have the shoes to match with it,” she says, pointing at it. You then feel her hands on your hips, motioning you towards the bathroom. “Now go get ready! I don’t wanna miss the party!”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night for you.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

The two of you arrive at the Sigma Chi frat house, and you can already tell how packed it is just by looking at it. Music was blasting, multicolor lights flashing through the windows, and even a group of guys chugging a keg on the front lawn. The sight of it alone was already making you start to feel sick. You’re starting to wish you were back at your dorm now, studying as you were before Dina dragged you to this party. But it was too late to back out now.

You both approach the front door of the house, and Dina rings the bell. A smile soon appears on her face once she sees Jesse answering the door.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, leaning in to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss before pulling away to adjust his hat. Based on the red velvet robe, anchor chain, and captain’s hat, it's clear that Jesse was dressed up as Hugh Hefner to match up with his girlfriend.

Jesse smiles back at her before looking over to you, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. “Wow, I did not expect you to be here too,” he says to you.

Dina looks back at you before looking back at Jesse. “Believe me, you have no idea how much convincing it took me to get her to come join me,” she says to him.

Jesse simply nods in response, his eyes now on the both of you. “Well in that case, welcome to Sigma Chi,” he says, stepping towards the side to allow you two to come in. “Make yourselves at home, there are drinks and food in the kitchen, and whatever you guys do, please don’t fuck with the thermostat…the electric bills in this house are already fucking expensive as it is. But other than that, knock yourselves out.”

As soon as you enter the house, you realize that it is just as chaotic as you saw it from the outside. The night’s just getting started, and you truly have no idea when it’s gonna end.

Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed by, but to you, it feels more like a decade. You were upstairs, sitting on a couch, watching Dina and Jesse play beer pong with another couple. You’ve drank less than half of the Twisted Tea that’s in your hand, simply because you had thought at the time that it was just a regular iced tea when you picked it out of the cooler. The music and lighting were overbearing, and the corset and heels were practically suffocating your chest and feet by now. You wanted nothing more than to leave the frat house and head back to your dorm to rid yourself of this feeling.

But instead, you stand up from the couch, deciding to opt for a different drink from the kitchen downstairs. Before leaving you walk over to Dina and tap her on the shoulder to let her know. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell her loudly, hoping she can hear you over the music. Dina looks down at your drink and nods. “Get something stronger next time! I think Jesse has a bottle of Smirnoff in the liquor cabinet!” she shouts back at you.

You simply sigh and walk out of the room, the hard iced tea still in your hand. You look down and watch the liquid sloshing around in the small hole of the can until you bump yourself into a familiar figure.

“Shit!” you mutter quietly, almost spilling your drink. “I’m so sorry, I—“ your words get cut off as soon as you look up to see who you have just run into. “Abby?”

“Hey there,” she said with a smile, looking back down at you. “I didn’t expect to see you at this party…what brings you here?”

“Oh, I um…” you stammer, looking back into the room you had just walked out of before turning back to her. “Dina wouldn’t stop begging me to come so…I’m here.” You tell her.

Abby nodded in response, finally putting the pieces together. “Makes sense, I definitely figured you wouldn’t be a party person, not that it’s a bad thing though.” she tells you. You can’t help but notice her checking you out, her eyes trailing over the angel costume that was tightly hugging your figure. “This costume looks pretty on you,” she says, running her thumb and pointer finger through the large feathered wings that were on your back.

You try your best not to get flustered over her compliment. “Thank you, um…” you take a moment to look at what she was wearing. She had on her usual clothes, dark wash jeans, and a muscle tank, except she had on a backward snapback hat with the fraternity’s emblem printed on it. “Are you…supposed to be a Sigma Chi member?” you ask.

You hear the blonde let out a chuckle before nodding again. “Yeah, um…costumes are never really my thing, so this is really all I can come up with,” she tells you. “Besides, Manny dragged me into coming to this party anyway, so I figured I’d steal something out of it.”

You smile back at her response before letting out a chuckle as well. “Well, it suits you, Abs…” you let out a sigh before continuing. “If I’m being honest, I’m so glad I ran into you…This night has been flying by so slow for me,” you admit to her, briefly looking down at the ground.

That’s when an idea passed through Abby’s mind. However, she needed to know if you were up for it. “I can help it fly by faster, if you'd like…”

You looked back up at her, and you truly couldn’t hide the smirk that was appearing on your face. “Is that so?” you ask her. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but instead reaches a hand out to you. “How about you come with me?” she offers, smirking back at you.

You hesitate for a moment before soon giving in, leaving your drink at the nearest surface you can find before grabbing her hand and following her. She walks you down the crowded hall before stopping at a door that was on her left, assuming that it might be a bedroom or bathroom. She opens the door with no hesitation, only to be greeted with an angry couple protesting from inside.

“Shit! Sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly closing the door again. She then turns to you and you can’t help but let out a laugh, leading her to shake her head at her poor decision to do that. “Come on, I think there’s another bathroom downstairs.

With your hand still being held by hers, you walk down the stairs with her until you get back to the first level of the frat house. You then feel her hand letting go only to snake itself around your waist, holding you close to her broad build as you both walk through the partying crowds of people. Abby soon stopped at a door that was on her right, this time knocking twice before slowly turning the doorknob to take a peek inside.

You also try to take a look inside to see if it is empty. “All clear?” you ask her.

She nods in response. “All clear.”

You then feel her hand moving over your wings down to the small of your back, motioning you to go inside first before entering herself, closing the door shut, and locking it.

The last bit of patience you had left was now gone the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Once Abby had turned around after locking the door and switching the light on, you grabbed her by her muscle tank and pulled her toward you in a kiss. As soon as the contact hits her, you can feel her lips smirking against yours in the kiss. One of her large hands rests at your waist while the other runs through your hair, causing the plastic halo on your head to fall and clatter on the ground.

You try your best not to trip on your heels as she slowly walks you backward toward the bathroom counter that was by the sink. Her hands that were on your waist and in your hair soon moved down to the back of your thighs, giving you a boost to lift you and sit you down on the counter.

Abby pulls her lips away from yours to get a good look at you, smiling as she does so. Your lips were plump from kissing her, your hair slightly messy from when she was running her hands through it, and your eyes were blown out with lust and desperation for her. “Look at you, my angel…” she murmurs, running a thumb through your lower lip line. “So beautiful for me.

Her hand trails down to the front of your corset top, fingertips landing on the silk ribbon that held it all together. “Is it okay if I untie this?” she asks, holding her eye contact with you.

You nod.

“Words, angel.”

“Please, Abby…” you whisper out to her. To Abby, that response was more than enough for her to start undressing you. The ribbon from your corset begins to loosen, and you instantly feel a wave of relief wash through you. Once the ribbon was undone, Abby then uses both of her hands to loosen the rest of it, just enough to free your tits out.

A whimper escapes from your mouth once you feel Abby’s hands on your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening from her touch alone. “God…such pretty tits…” she murmurs out to you, leaning in to quickly kiss down from your neck to your tits, her mouth latching onto one of them and gently sucking while her hand is gently squeezing the other.

More whimpers and whines escape from your mouth at the contact, followed by your thighs rubbing and clenching together. Abby was quick to notice that, removing her mouth and hands from your tits as a result. She takes off her snapback and tosses it to the ground next to your halo before getting down on her knees in front of you.

Once Abby was kneeling on the ground, that’s when you decide to remove your heels, desperate to get them off of your feet. Abby notices this as well, and catches one of your heels before it fals to the ground. “Leave them on, angel.” she tells you, slipping the heel back on your foot. “You look so fucking sexy in these.”

Normally, you’d just protest about how much they were bothering you and take them off anyway. But you simply oblige to keep them on for Abby’s sake. You were willing to go through it a little longer to stay on her good side. You wanted to be good for her. You wanted to be her angel.

Her hands are now making their way up your thighs, stopping at the bottom hem of your skirt. She then bunches the tight fabric that was hugging your hips before pushing it up, allowing more space for you to spread your legs open for her. Her eyes were now met with your clothed cunt, along with a visible patch seeping out of your white thong. She soon hooks a finger underneath the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your wet pussy from underneath it.

The sight of your pussy alone already had her mouth watering. Your slick was glistening under the dim, incandescent light of the bathroom and your tight hole was visibly clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Fuck…” she groaned out quietly as she gently ran two of her fingers over the surface of your cunt, collecting a bit of your slick in the process. “Is this all for me, angel?” she asks, looking up at you.

“M-Mhm…” you whimpered back, nodding quickly. “It’s all for you, Abby, please…”

Abby averts her gaze back down to your pussy, watching as your slick trails itself down to the bathroom counter. She was soon quick to dive her head in and lick an experimental stripe up your pussy to collect your slick on her tongue, achieving the taste of you as she did so.

“My god, angel…you even taste just as heavenly as you look right now,” she mutters out quietly.

Abby wasn’t lying about that. From her perspective, you were truly a sight for sore eyes right now. Legs spread out for her, head thrown back in pleasure with the material of your costume bunched up around your waist and hips to show the parts of you she wanted to see the most, all while your wings remained steady on your back, surrounding your precious figure. You truly looked heavenly in her eyes, and the sounds you were making from her touch sounded just as angelic as you looked right now.

Without delaying any longer, Abby inserts two of her fingers into your pussy, The sudden movement startles you for a bit, before your cunt soon begins to relax around her fingers.

“Look at that, angel…she’s taking my fingers so well…” she murmurs to you, watching as your pussy greedily sucks her fingers further inside. “This pussy is already doing so good for me, baby…I bet you’ve been wanting this for a while now, haven’t you?”

You nod quickly once again. “G-God, yes, Abs…I need you so bad..” you whimper back to her biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

Abby notices once again, and brings her free hand up to your bottom lip to free it from the grasp of your teeth. “There’s no need for that, angel…I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

With her fingers still nestling inside your cunt, she brings her mouth to your throbbing clit, gently sucking on it as she slowly pumps her fingers in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for the speed of her fingers to increase. The faster her two fingers pounded into your pussy, the harder her lips would wrap around on your clit, taking away all of the space in between as she continued to suck on it.

As a result of her fast movements, the sounds your body was making in that bathroom were absolutely obscene. Between the wet squelching noises of your pussy and the moans and whimpers that were escaping from your mouth, Abby can’t help but feel so turned on from it, practically rubbing her own thighs together for some relief as she continued to devour your pussy.

Your orgasm quickly began to build itself up inside you, and based on the way your cunt was squeezing Abby’s fingers right now, she could tell you were getting close too.

“A-Abby…I-I think I’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, both of your hands gripping onto the bathroom counter while your hips begin to involuntarily grind against her face.

“Let it out for me, angel…” she murmurs into your pussy, her movements still refusing to quit. “Take it out on me, baby…fuck my face until you finish, just like that…”

Your hips rut against your mouth a few more times, along with the involuntary movements of your pussy tightly clenching around her fingers and your clit pulsing in her mouth.

You instantly finish into her mouth and onto her fingers with a loud moan of her name, followed by your thighs trembling right after your climax. Thank God that the party’s music from outside was loud enough to keep anyone else from hearing what was going on inside.

Abby soon removed her mouth from your pussy while slowing the pace of her fingers, fucking you through it as you progessively recover from your orgasm. You hear a quiet groan escape from her mouth as she pulls her fingers out of you, watching as your cunt pushes out your thick white release and let it drip its way down to the counter. You watch her do the same movement from before, licking another stripe up your pussy to collect the rest of your release onto her tongue.

Once you were clean, Abby removes each of your legs off of her shoulders and pulls herself away from your pussy, wiping whatever that was smeared on her face with the back of her hand.

Abby then picks herself up off the floor and stands in between your legs to fix up your costume. Once you were all good, she helps you get off of the counter and back on your feet.

You reach over to pick up your halo off of the ground, Abby also doing the same with her snapback. “Thank you again for that, Abby…This definitely made my night.” you tell her, biting your lip again to hide back your smile.

The blonde smiles at you in response. “Of course, angel, its no problem…” she takes a quick breath before continuing. “You know…you can spend the night at my place, if you’d like..” she offers to you, nervously rubbing the back of her head as she does so.

You smile back at her and nod, your eyes beaming at her blue ones. “I would love that, actually.”

Abby then turns the knob and opens the door, revealing the chaotic atmosphere of the party once again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” she tells you, keeping her hand back around your waist and by her side.

From that point forward, it was safe to say that the rest of that night was anything but slow for the both of you.

- a/n: i’m so sorry if this looks rushed, i really wanted to have this out by today! @ anon if you’re out there i hope you enjoyed it 🙏🏻

happy halloween y’all, stay safe for me tonight 🤍

tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @catfern

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us 2 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby x you #abby x reader #wlw #abby x fem!reader #the last of us #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us 2 #abby anderson the last of us #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou

[keerysfreckles]

stay here - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (no movie spoilers bc i haven't seen it yet im just obsessed with mike) fluff! fluff! fluff! like one makeout scene but thats it

enjoy!

to say babysitting michael schmidt's little sister, abby, was easy would be a lie. mike called you earlier that day, right before his shift started, and asked if you could look over abby until he got home. at the end of the call he mentioned his hours were shorter, and earlier than normal, so he wouldn't be home too late.

it was currently eleven pm. abby's supposed to be in bed by ten-thirty, and nothing was working. y/n tried calming her down with a disney movie. she even colored with her in her makeshift fort in her room. but nothing worked, she was as hyper as ever.

"abby, please! we both know you're going to be tired tomorrow and you have school," y/n pleads.

"but i'm not tired," abby groans, rolling over dramatically on the couch.

"you know what? fine. i'll just tell mike you weren't listening to me," y/n sends abby an evil smile. abby perks up, and sits up to lean on the arm of the couch to look at y/n.

"no! no no no! he said if i was good all week he'd buy me something from the store."

y/n crosses her arms and leans against the hallway wall, opposite of the couch. "looks like you're going to have to listen to me afterall."

"but i'm still not tired," abby groans again, but walks over towards y/n.

y/n looked down at the girl in front of her. she saw the small bags under her eyes, and noticed her eyes kept closing every so often.

an idea popped into y/n's head, "why don't you go lay down, and i'll be in in ten minutes, yeah?"

abby nodded, confused by the request, but still nodded nonetheless and walked down the hallway and towards her room. y/n watched for a moment before abby was fully inside her room. she knew abby was most likely to fall asleep once her head hit the pillow. now she only had to kill two hours until mike would be home.

y/n and mike have known each other for three years. y/n moved into the one story house that was unoccupied in mike's neighborhood. the town wasn't used to newcomers, so of course y/n was the talk of the town for her first two weeks there.

it wasn't until a month later when y/n was on her morning run on a saturday, and had bumped into michael. she was instantly confused when she noticed he was in his work uniform, and on the way back to his house. the two made light conversation, and ended up at y/n's that night for a movie marathon.

about a month after that, mike knocked on y/n's front door, and properly asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him. of course the girl agreed, and that was the first date of many for the couple.

which leaves y/n in the position she's in - babysitting abby.

when mike and y/n officially started dating abby interrogated the girl. asking her a bunch of questions, some more personal than others, which mike quickly interjected. abby gave mike the idea of having y/n watch over her, instead of having to pay random strangers. mike obviously agreed.

y/n settled herself on the couch and put on a random horror movie that was on tv. she couldn't even get past the opening as her eyes closed and her body went limp from tiredness.

she grabbed the blanket at the other end of the couch before fully letting sleep embrace her.

the only time y/n woke up was when she heard the doorknob rattling. she turned slightly, to look over the back of the couch, and saw her boyfriend walking through the doorway.

"shit, were you sleeping?" mike asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it by the front door.

y/n sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "yeah, but i can go. abby's asleep so i did my job pretty well," she chuckles.

"thank you again. and you know you can stay babe, i don't mind the comapny," michael smiles.

y/n couldn't help but notice how on edge mike looked as soon as he walked inside.

"are you okay?" she asks softly, still sitting on the couch.

mike nods as he sits down beside her, "yeah, just a long night." he leans over and kisses her cheek, causing y/n's cheeks to turn pink.

"do you want to talk about it?" y/n moves her leg to rest her chin on her knee, as mike's eyes glaze over the tv screen before turning fully towards his girlfriend.

"william was just on my ass before my shift, and vanessa had so much energy tonight, i just couldn't handle it. and it felt like time was going so slow tonight," mike's voice was quiet. y/n could tell he had a rough night as he rubbed his eyes.

y/n leans forward and turns off the tv, making mike slightly confused. "is there anything i can do to cheer you up?" y/n stands in front of mike and holds her hands out. he immediately takes her hands in his as he stands with her. mike leans forward and kisses y/n's forehead.

"can you just stay here tonight?" mike's voice almost seems desperate, as if y/n's presence was the only thing keeping him going right now.

y/n nods, "i'll always stay if you ask me to," she smiles as mike closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

"was abby okay tonight?" mike asked, pulling away, but still keeping their hands connected.

"she was good, until trying to get her to go to bed. but you didn't hear that from me," this caused mike to let out a small laugh.

the couple, with one of their hands linked with each other's, went down the hallway. mike stopped y/n and opened abby's bedroom door quietly. y/n stood beside mike and held onto his arm with her free hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

the pair were met with abby sleeping under her blanket. small snores escaped her lips. y/n leaned up and kissed mike's jaw, before whispering, "c'mon, i know you need sleep just as much as she does."

y/n pulls mike into his room, which was at this point their shared room. mike had two drawers of his dresser specifically for y/n, vice verse in y/n's room. mike stepped into the bathroom and they both got ready for the night, in the most comfortable clothes they own.

y/n was already laying down under the sheets once mike came out of the bathroom. even laying there, he thought y/n looked so effortlessly beautiful.

"why are you staring at me like that?" y/n asks as she watches mike slide into the bed next to her.

"what? i can't stare at my pretty girl?" mike leans forward and kisses y/n on the lips, as he brings his left hand to her cheek. he rolls over, so his right arm is on the mattress, as he hovers over y/n. her hands move to his waist, slowing moving to his lower back.

their lips molded with one another's, and y/n could almost sense the stress leaving mike's body.

mike barely pulled away, leaving little to no space in between the two, "i love you so much."

y/n smiled, "i love you too."

she leaned up to kiss him once more, and mike playfully rolled his eyes while moving to lay down beside the girl. mike loved falling asleep while holding onto y/n's waist, because he knew she was safe.

#michael schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #michael schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you

[ghostofwriting]

in London: I break down cause you're not around

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Just a random drabble idea that popped into my head. Please don't come at me for more cheating okay just call me Taylor Jenkins Reid because apparently, that's all I can write. Absolutely not KS related. KS Chapter 4 coming soon.

Word Count: 1,346

Summary: Rafe probably

"But you're in London, and I break down 'Cause it's not fair that you're not around

This is when the feeling sinks in I don't wanna miss you like this Come back, be here"

It’s humid out, everything feels damp, her baby blue dress sticking to her uncomfortably. The slight breeze makes her shiver due to the contrast of the heat when it touches her skin. She can’t quite breathe.

She’s outside on the terrace, the stone railing covered in pink flowers with green vines running underneath them. The stairs lead to a garden and a small maze. If you walk past the tree line, you’ll hit the ocean, she can hear the waves crashing.

She needed to step out and take a breather. There are too many people inside, it feels too crowded, and all her past lives come back to haunt her. She shouldn’t even be here. She should be back in London where she started her new life. Far away from any reminders of what could have been. 

He’s been watching her all night. The partygoers had been dancing, mingling and catching up, celebrating the happy couple and everywhere she turned she caught his eye. From the corner of her eye, or through the reflection of a mirror. He would look at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his drink. She had been avoiding him, not only tonight but for the better part of the year. Ever since they broke up. 

He had tried to text and call and beg his way back into her life but it wasn’t something that he could be part of anymore. When he had tried to follow her to London, she told him that never in a million years would she forgive him. There is nothing he could do to fix what he tore to shreds. 

They had been together for years. She trusted him with everything she had in her and he betrayed that trust by sleeping with her best friend. Why? She had asked him the night she walked away. Why would you sleep with her? He had no answer, no vocabulary that could make this better. 

His friends had told her that it was because she had laid into him too hard one time and made him so angry that he wanted revenge. She wasn’t perfect, she knew that he had shit going on with his dad and that the drugs didn’t help either. He wasn’t necessarily stable, but she didn’t think he could hurt her just to hurt her. They told her he regretted it immediately and swore them all to secrecy. He threatened them with god knows what and they vouched for him. 

She had started to suspect something happened between the two when they started acting weird around each other. Before the shift, they never avoided each other, they were civil and they could hold conversations. After it happened, they were never seen in the same room and if on the rare occasion they were, no eye contact would be made and no words exchanged. Sometimes on those rare occasions, she would watch her best friend and see how she looked at him. Her eyes softened and a small smile appeared on her face only to be wiped off as soon as she made eye contact with her. She would brush it off and pretend that she was seeing things. At some point, her best friend pulled away from the friend group and stopped talking to her. She was hurt because she didn’t know why and never received an explanation. 

When the guilt started to eat at her, that’s when she came forward. Five months after the act was committed. She looked at her in disbelief as she explained herself and told her that she was sorry, that she was in love with him. In love with her boyfriend. Her best friend and her boyfriend. How cliche? How did she let that happen to her?

He had been looking for her, trying to find her to stop her from telling the truth. It was too late when she found her. She was silent, staring at the crying girl. The one that had been her best friend. She looked at him and started to back away, 

“Wait!” He had yelled after her, “Please, listen!” He rann up behind her, reaching for her arm, unsuccessfully as she kept walking. 

He had followed her through the parking lot trying to stop her from getting into her car. Tears glistening in his eyes. 

She wouldn’t listen. There was no coming back from this. She didn’t say a single word as she got into her car and drove away from the boy that she thought was her forever. 

She didn’t want to see any of them ever again, she cried to her mother, and together they decided that she would go to London and start her law career there. Her mom would do anything to get her away from the boy she thought was a bad influence. 

That very next morning she was on a plane to London. He called and called and called. Until she changed her number. Her mom told her that he had tried to find out where she was and tried to find her. She had loyal friends back home, they proved that to her by never telling him where she had gone. 

And just like that she had disappeared for months on end. No trace of her. 

Until now. 

“You look beautiful.” His voice is something she wishes she could forget. She’s disappointed to know that she remembers it exactly.

“What are you doing here?” She stares at her hands, not sparing him a glance.

“It’s my sister's rehearsal dinner.” She rolls her eyes, glad that he can’t see the reaction. 

“I meant out here.” 

“I want to talk to you.” She should have known he would follow her outside. He was never one to give up easily. 

“There’s nothing to say.”

“I have things to say. You disappeared and never let me explain myself.” She looks up from her hands now, still not at him.

“That’s because I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say. I don’t care about anything you have to say.”

“I love you. I fucked up, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that.”

She doesn’t face him, choosing to look at the scenery instead. The trees, the garden, if she looks far enough into the distance she sees the ocean.

“I was so angry with you and I wasn’t thinking. I will never do something like that again, I regretted it immediately.” He won’t ever get a chance to do that again, at least not with her.

“I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t then. And I don’t now.”

She hears him sniffle, he places his hand next to hers on the railing. She sees as his finger twitches, itching to touch her. 

“Please, tell me how to fix this.” She looks at him now, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“There is nothing you could ever do to fix this.” He clenches his jaw and she notices how it flutters. 

“Please. Come back.” 

“I wish I could. Don’t you get it? I wish I could just forget everything you did. I wish I never found out because I love you, I still do. Even after everything.” His eyes fill with hope. 

“I love myself more.” He deflates, looking down at his hands in front of him. 

She feels a presence come up behind them and turns slightly. She sees who it is and knows it’s her time to go. 

She doesn’t spare her ex-best friend a glance as she walks past her into the building where the party is still in full swing. 

“Rafe.” She hears her say. She doesn’t turn around, not wanting to hurt more than she already is. 

“Stay away from me, Kiara.” He snaps. He leaves Kie standing on the balcony as he climbs down the steps two at a time and towards his car.

Just a few more days of pretending to be okay. In less than a week she would be back in London. And she would be able to breathe again. 

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks au #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

🤍a completely random modern au headcanon for each aot character 🤍

eren jaeger’s idea of late night fun is going to walmart/target/etc. he likes to walk around with his friends and be absolutely childish. bonus: he’s banned from a certain store for kicking an inflatable ball across the store.

armin arlert is self conscious of his body. it’s only really his torso though. when him and his friends go to the beach, he’s always the last one to take his shirt off. he doesn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about, he’s just disappointed he’s not as muscular as eren or reiner.

mikasa ackerman’s favorite color is a dark red. the blood, cherry type of red. she’s got a lip tint in that color and her nails are painted too much. she also chews her nails. she hopes the nail polish is enough to break the habit but it isn’t.

connie springer’s favorite fast food restaurant is burger king. he thinks it’s underrated. you can count on him to fuck up a whopper. he also always gets the cardboard crowns to wear.

jean kirstein loves night time. he loves the solitude, the way nobody expects anything from him, and the fact that he can just be. he doesn’t get lonely during his late nights but he wouldn’t mind somebody to share it with.

sasha braus smells really good. she doesn’t use any super fancy products, though. she’s just one of those people that naturally have a good aroma. her skin is also really soft.

ymir tans really easy in the summer. she never burns or turns red. she’s genetically blessed. the sun also makes the freckles on her face pop and clusters of them pop up on her back/shoulders.

historia reiss loves milkshakes and soda floats. she always orders them with a whipped cream and cherry. she prefers milkshakes from a diner rather than a fast food place.

marco bodt really likes plants. he has a collection of houseplants. they line his window sills and he even has a special little rack with a special little light. he’s got a super green thumb.

reiner braun drinks protein shakes religiously. he pretty much sticks to a diet of shakes, meat, vegetables and rice. there are few times where he breaks his routine, usually just joining his friends for a night of drinking.

bertholdt hoover has a surprisingly high tolerance when it comes to weed and alcohol. at least that’s what it looks like on the outside. he’s pretty cool, calm and collected. nobody’s sure if he’s immune to being drunk, or if he’s too anxious about acting a fool to show any signs of inebriation.

annie leonhardt owns a german shepherd 100%. she’s had it since it was a pup and it’s one of the most well behaved dogs. they’re oddly similar in their mannerisms. bonus: it’s named marley.

pieck finger is the type of girl to sit on the floor. like, at all times. when she’s sad, she’ll lay down completely and just stare at the ceiling. it’s peaceful and it makes her feel relaxed.

porco galliard goes through an ungodly amount of hairgel. his hair is hard like those ballroom/ballet dancers in competitions. he has trouble growing facial hair.

zeke jaeger gets his weed flown to him from another state/country. it’s the best shit around. he’s also never home because he “runs a business.” always found with a blunt near by.

levi ackerman doesn’t like energy drinks or coffee. if he needs caffeine, he gets it from tea or some kind of health drink. he doesn’t understand how kids hearts don’t give out with all their monsters and red bulls.

erwin smith is so friendly despite his appearance. he finds joy in little things like a heads up penny or when the barista remembers his name/order. he’s a pretty easy going guy.

hange zoe breaks her glasses all the time. they either sit on them or step on them. it’s easy for them to lose their glasses because their room is a mess. books, papers, knick knacks everywhere.

my jean fic

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot fanfiction #snk headcanons #attack on titan headcanons #aot fluff #aot fanfic #aot x reader #eren jaeger #zeke jaeger #armin arlert #jean kirstein #sasha braus #connie springer #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #annie leonhardt #pieck finger #hange zoe #levi ackerman #erwin smith #porco galliard #mikasa ackerman #ymir #historia reiss #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan imagines

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

A Lesson in Love - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader (Referred to as Ms. T)

Word Count: 1.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Bob Being Adorable; Valentine's Day Shenanigans; Bob Deals with a Lot of Meddlers; Bob Has a Niece Named Phoebe; Reader is Female, but No Physical Description, Reader Referred to as "Ms. T" (The "T" stands for Teacher because I'm so Creative), No Use of Y/N

Summary: Bob has no plans for Valentine's Day. So, he gets set up to meet his niece's very cute teacher instead.

Master List

Bob didn’t really have any specific thoughts on Valentine’s Day. If he had a partner, he would do something special, of course, but he wasn’t bothered by the fact that he spent the last four Valentine’s Days in a row single. He was deployed for three of them and he didn’t have anything planned this Valentine’s Day. 

Quietly, he was honestly happy with it. Everyone seemed to put so much stress over a random weekday and he was content to avoid the chaos. But there were several people in his life who were not. 

And he was almost completely sure that his mom and Phoenix were scheming behind his back. 

“You still don’t have any plans tonight?” Phoenix asked Bob, who shook his head. 

“No. I was just going to do some more paperwork and probably call it an early night. Maybe I’ll watch that new documentary that Penny recommended.” 

“Please tell me that something in there is a code word,” Fanboy stated, causing Bob to roll his eyes. “Come on, Bob, just let one of us set you up on a blind date.” 

“I have a list,” Phoenix offered, but Bob shook his head. 

“A first date on Valentine’s Day? That’s a great idea! How could that possibly go wrong?” he returned sarcastically, causing Phoenix and Fanboy to share a look. 

But before anyone could speak again, Bob’s phone started to buzz. Fishing it out of his pocket, Bob saw his mom’s contact pop up and excused himself from the table. He answered the call as he walked out of the mess.

“Hey, Ma, what do you need?” 

“Why do you just assume that I’m calling because I need something, Robert? A mother can’t just check up on her son?” Bob waited for a moment before his mom added, “Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Goodbye, Ma.” 

“I only ask because I completely forgot that Phoebe’s parent-teacher conference is tonight and your father and I already made plans. I was going to have our neighbor, Ms. Abel, watch her for a few hours, but obviously she can’t attend the parent-teacher conference for us.” 

“What time is her parent-teacher conference?” 

“Seven.” 

“I’ll just watch Phoebe tonight. That's fine, Ma. I’ll pick her up from your house after work.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart! And maybe you’ll meet someone there—” 

“—Oh, sorry, Ma, there’s an alarm going off, I have to go. Bye.” 

“Robert Martin Floyd—” 

Bob hung up the phone and sighed to himself before heading back inside the mess. What was it about Valentine’s Day that made everyone lose their minds?

“Who was that?” Phoenix asked as Bob sat back down.

“My ma. She asked me to take my niece to her parent-teacher conference for her.” 

“That’s better than paperwork,” Fanboy conceded.

“Is her teacher cute?” Phoenix questioned. 

“Do you hear that alarm going off?” Bob suggested, causing Phoenix to roll her eyes. 

~~~~~

“Alright, you lead the way,” Bob stated, setting his niece on the ground from the car. “You’re the pilot here, Bee.” 

“Come on, Uncle Bob,” Phoebe called, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. “We’re going to be late!” 

“Bee, we’re ten minutes early.” 

But Bob still let his niece practically drag him through the halls of her elementary school. Phoebe marched him down the ‘First Grade’ wing and stopped in front of a purple door. But Bob held her back from going inside.

“There’s people in there. Just sit and wait for a little bit. We’re early.” 

Bob sat Phoebe down in one of the short chairs meant for children and sat in the similarly short chair beside her. And with his long legs, he looked rather comedic sitting there. Phoebe talked his ear off about all of the art that was hung up and Bob complimented her paintings. 

The sound of the door opening caused Bob to turn his head. A couple stepped out of the classroom, followed by Phoebe’s teacher, who was dressed in a soft pink dress with paper hearts that were clearly cut out by her students taped to it. She bid the couple goodbye before turning to Bob and Phoebe, who jumped up from her seat when she realized that it was her turn. 

“Hi, Ms. T!” 

“Hi, Phoebe,” Ms. T greeted the little girl kindly before turning to Bob.

The wizzo in question awkwardly got to his feet from the child-sized chair under Ms. T’s gaze and tried to subtly smooth his shirt down. Phoebe’s teacher was cute, though he wouldn’t mention that to Phoenix or his mom. She radiated kindness but had that distinct look in her eye that she could quickly knock anyone down a few pegs. 

Bob could quickly tell why Phoebe liked her so much. 

“And who did you bring with you?” Ms. T asked Phoebe. 

“This is my Uncle Bob,” Phoebe stated, pulling Bob forward. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bob returned, holding out his hand for Ms. T to shake. “My parents couldn’t make it, so I’m standing in for them. I’m Phoebe’s uncle.” 

“I already said that,” Phoebe reminded Bob.

“Oh, of course. I’ve seen your names on some of her forms. Please, come in.” 

Bob took his seat at the front of the room and was relieved that he wouldn’t have to look ridiculous sitting in a child-sized seat again. Phoebe sat in the hallway, coloring and playing with toys, while Bob and Ms. T discussed her progress. 

Ms. T showed Bob a standardized worksheet that listed basic skills with comments about how Ms. T thought that Phoebe was doing. Bob listened to her comments on Phoebe’s performance intently and was relieved to find out that they were pretty much all positive.

“The only area that I think that Phoebe can improve on is her confidence,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to nod. “She’s smart and a very thoughtful little girl. And if I thought she knew that I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t think she does. There’s nothing wrong with being quiet or shy, but I don’t want her to ever get discouraged or down on herself.”

“Shyness runs in our family,” Bob stated, causing Ms. T to smile softly. “My dad’s side. So, this isn’t a shock.”

“How is Phoebe at home?”

“She won’t stop talking or bossing me around, but I understand that school with kids her own age is a different environment from that.”

“Yes, it is. She’s very outgoing if it’s one on one or if she’s with her friends, but she just needs a little more support in public situations.”

“I could try and come to more of her school events. I’ll talk to my Captain about moving some things in my schedule,” Bob suggested, causing Phoebe’s teacher to nod. “Not that my mom isn’t here to support Phoebe, but I don’t think that she knows the meaning of the word ‘shy.’”

“I can understand that,” Ms. T mused, chuckling softly. “Well, I can give you a list of some class events that we have between now and the end of the year.” 

She got up from her table and walked to the back of the room to grab a piece of paper. Scribbling something on it quickly, she walked back over and handed the paper to Bob, whose eyes immediately dropped to the number that she had written down. 

“I’m assuming that your mom already has it, but that’s the number to my school phone. And my email too. And here is the kids’ schedule,” she continued, pulling out another piece of paper and handing it over to Bob. “You can feel free to call me during any of the breaks that you see where they’re in specials or lunch.” 

“Thank you,” Bob replied, smiling kindly in return. “I’ll let you know what events I can make.” 

They walked out to the hallway and Phoebe quickly popped up from her table and came trotting over. Staring up at her Uncle Bob with that distinct begging look that Bob always ended up cracking for, Phoebe glanced between Bob and her teacher.

“Ice cream?” 

“Yeah, I think we can get ice cream,” Bob agreed, kneeling down to Phoebe’s height. “But if grandma asks?”

“We got brussel sprouts.” 

“That’s right.” 

Phoebe smiled and bounced in place, eager to go. She bid goodbye to Ms. T, promising to see her tomorrow, before grabbing Bob’s hand and urging him away. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Bob called back to Ms. T, who laughed and waved goodbye to them. 

“I hope to see you again,” she returned before Phoebe tugged Bob around the corner. 

~~~~~

Four Months Later . . .

“Phoebe Floyd,” Ms. T called out.

The crowd of family members—and several supportive naval aviators—cheered as Phoebe jogged across the stage. Ms. T gave her a little badge to signify that she was now a second grader before gently nudging her to join her other classmates. 

And once they went through the rest of the kids, the day wrapped up. Bob picked up Phoebe and spun her around until his mom urged him to put her down so that they could take family pictures. After a few, Phoebe tugged on Bob’s hand until he bent down to her level. Phoebe leaned over and cupped her hands around his ear. 

“Ms. T needs help carrying stuff back to the classroom.” 

“Yeah?” Bob asked, causing Phoebe to nod quickly before leaning in again.

“Can I be the flower girl?” Phoebe added, earning a choked sound from her uncle.

Ms. T was in the middle of gathering the decorations when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, she smiled softly when she saw Bob jogging over to her. 

“Need any help?”

“I won’t turn it down.” 

“So, are you excited for summer vacation?” Bob asked Ms. T, who nodded in return. “Do you have any plans?”

“I was hoping that some cute naval aviator with these big dorky glasses and these big blue eyes was going to ask me on a date,” Ms. T stated, causing Bob to flush with embarrassment. “But I don’t know if that will ever happen.” 

“Well, maybe he was waiting for you to no longer be his niece’s teacher before asking you out,” Bob replied, taking the box from her hands. “Which reminds me, do you have any plans for Friday night?”

“I do now,” Ms. T replied with a wide smile. 

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm fanfiction #tgm #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob x reader #bob #bob floyd #bob fluff #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader

[harrywavycurly]

Can I run a totally off the wall idea on y’all really quick? It’s been sitting in the back corner of my brain for a good long while now and I just need to share it😂🙈

Masterlist: here✨

Imagine it’s Friday October 13th and Eddie Munson is in his bedroom strumming on his guitar when he mumbles “alone again on a Friday night…yeah you’re not a loser or anything Munson…” he pauses his movements for a brief moment as he closes his eyes and thinks “I wish I had someone that just…understands me” and then he opens his eyes and goes back to his practicing like normal.

Fast forward a few weeks and Eddie is making coffee before his shift at the garage when he hears a noise coming from his bedroom. He knows he’s alone in the house because Wayne was already at work so he raises an eyebrow as he slowly makes his way down the hall but before he can make it to his room the bedroom doors swings open and you’re just standing there with a smile on your face.

“So sorry about that…I meant to come in the front door but I got the floor plan of this place mixed up with someone else’s…why are you looking at me like that?” You’re confused as to why Eddie isn’t smiling because most of the time when you arrive somewhere you’re greeted with at least a hello or a smile but Eddie looks genuinely terrified. “You are Edward James Munson right? Made a wish on…one moment it’s in my notebook sorry I’m usually way more organized…ah yes you made a wish on October 13th? That correct?” Eddie drops his coffee mug causing it to shatter in the floor as he takes a step backwards.

“How do you know my name?” You just laugh as you step towards him so you can bend down and wave your hand over the shattered mug, Eddie feels his eyes go so wide he swears they’re about to pop out of his head as the mug is back in his hand with coffee in it and everything.

“Well you wished for someone to understand you so…it’s safe to say I know everything about you Eddie…don’t worry your secret about the early teenage bedwetting phase will stay between us.” Eddie watches you as you walk past him and into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, it had been a long night for you trying to find him after your last project ended.

“Okay can you…what are you? Why are you here? Because I made a fucking wish on a random ass Friday?” He places his mug down on the counter and you just pick it up and take a sip of it, no point in letting perfectly good coffee go to waste.

“I’m your person…I’m here because you made a wish on not just any random Friday but a Friday the thirteenth…in October that’s like…the best day to wish for something and you did and now I’m here…sorry I’m late by the way my uhm…last project kinda ran longer than I expected.” You explain between sips of coffee as you watch Eddie pace the length of the kitchen running his hands through his hair.

“You’re my person? Like my soulmate?” You purse your lips as you place the now empty coffee mug on the counter as Eddie stands a few feet in front of you with his hands on his hips.

“Well you…didn’t exactly specify what kind of person you wanted…so technically I’m not your soulmate I’m just someone who knows you inside and out and…understands you…completely.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he lets out a groan and runs a hand over his face, you know this means he’s annoyed because you know that’s one of the things he does when he is frustrated.

“What do you mean your last project ran longer than expected?” You look down at your feet as the memories of your last project flutter through your mind.

“I was…an imaginary friend for my last project…I met Henry when he was ten and I was with him throughout his whole life…I didn’t think he’d need me that long but he did so I stayed with him until…the very end and then I got assigned to you…and I’ll be with you until you either don’t want me anymore or uh…you die.” You look up to see Eddie staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth slightly hung open making you giggle as you turn so you can pour yourself another cup of coffee.

“You’re with me…until I fucking die?” You just shrug as you take a sip and your nose crinkles at the taste making Eddie roll his eyes as he crosses the kitchen and opens the fridge and hands you the milk so you can add it to your coffee.

“Or until you’re done with me…oh you also get a trial run with me for a week and if you’re not happy then you can exchange me for someone else…and uh until you make up your mind only…you can see me.” Eddie feels like the room is spinning as he grabs the edge of the counter and closes his eyes. You know he’s overwhelmed so you place a hand on his lower back and give it a rub, something you know he finds soothing.

“What happens after the week is up?” You continue rubbing soothing circles on his back as he lowers his head making his hair fall into his face.

“Then everyone will be able to see me and they’ll even have memories of meeting me as if I’ve always been around.” Eddie just nods his head as his eyes stay closed, you know this is a lot for him to take in so you do what you know will comfort him. You place your coffee on the counter and drop your hand from his back and step so you’re behind him, Eddie freezes when he feels your arms wrap around his middle and your cheek rests against his back.

“What are-”

“Just relax…I know everything about you remember? Now…just enjoy it you weirdo.” And for once in what feels like forever Eddie relaxes as your hold around him tightens when he stands up straight, he slowly brings his hands up to rest on top of yours that are securing your hold around his middle. “You smell good…that new green apple body wash is nice.” Eddie can’t even be bothered to roll his eyes or be alarmed at the fact you know what scent his body wash is because he’s too busy being wrapped up in the sense of complete contentment he’s feeling with your arms around him.

#eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson concept #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x imaginary friend #eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby

[sugarnspice630]

Triple S - Jongho

Triple S: Solo Somno Session

(I thought the title was clever, please also like it :( )

•pairing: idol!jongho x gn!reader

•word count: 1.5k

•tags: mdni, reader has a wet dream, masturbation (male), slight somnophilia, Jongho tries to stay quiet, reader wakes up and teases Jongho ...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: You've been struggling to fall asleep and decide to video call Jongho to help you sleep, only your brain goes into overdrive causing you to have a wet dream and it certainly has an effect on Jongho.

A/N: Random thought that popped into my head at 2am before I went to sleep that I was inspired to write! Not much backstory on this one...Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Jongho had been away from you for too long. You were really starting to miss him and how he cuddled with you in bed late at night. Being in different time zones while he was touring made it hard to catch him in real time. You texted him that you missed him and wanted to know if you could video call to go to bed. You’ve been having some sleepless nights and thought seeing his face would help you get a good night’s rest. He responded fairly quickly and said he would be back at his hotel room soon and would call you. You just had to keep yourself awake for a little longer.

When Jongho got back to his hotel room for a day of rest, he settled into his bed and got everything set up to prop his phone up to give you a good view of him. He clicked on your contact and clicked the video call button. You were patiently waiting for his call, curled up in your bed with loads of blankets and the stuffed teddy bear he gave you before he left so you wouldn’t be too alone. Your heart jumped when you saw the phone screen change, and you quickly accepted the call. Smiling big when you saw his face on your screen, you were thankful you were able to spend this time with him. He smiled his gummy smile back at you, excited to see you all excited.

“Hi~.”

“Hi baby bear!” You replied from behind the blanket. Your mouth and nose were covered, but your eyes were visible. Jongho sat back and leaned on his elbow, still facing his phone, so he could stare at you. No words were shared, just big smiles and occasional soft giggles between the two of you that warmed both of your hearts. After a few minutes of staring lovingly at each other, you felt your eyes start to get heavy.

“Tired love?”

“Yeah..”

“You can go to sleep, love. That’s why I’m here—to help my darling sleep well.”

“Okie…” You groggily responded, but the truth was, you were already on the verge of falling asleep and had no idea what he was saying. Your eyes went fully shut, and you nuzzled your head into the pillow more to get comfy. Jongho watched and smiled as you got comfortable. He was happy to see you so cozy, even without him being there to cuddle you.

“Goodnight my sweet. I love you so much.” You just hummed in response.

He grabbed a pillow and set it behind him to prop himself up. Reaching for the remote to find something to entertain him. After all, he didn’t want to watch you sleep. You falling asleep that quickly with him on the phone reassured him how comfortable you are with him. Jongho would occasionally look over at the screen to check up on you. Smiling softly at your peacefully resting figure. The way the blanket softly lifted up and down, following your gentle breathing. Your bangs had gracefully fallen over your eyes. Okay, okay, maybe he did enjoy watching you sleep, but there was no creepy intent behind it! He just loved seeing you. You were his, and god did he love it. Jongho shortly turned his attention back to the TV, his brain filled with everything relating to you.

A few moments later, Jongho heard your breathing getting more rapid. He glanced over and saw you were still sleeping, but the blanket had moved from over your mouth. Your eyebrows are furrowed together, and your mouth is slightly hanging open. He frowned, assuming you were having a bad dream. You had been stressed, so it wasn’t unexpected. That was until he heard a soft whimper come out of you. His eyes got a little bit wider, and his face flushed a little. Were you having a wet dream? Surely that couldn’t be the case. He wiggled in the bed a little bit and softly cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from what he just heard. Not a few moments later, you let out another whimper, this time a little louder than the last. Jongho directed his attention to the video of you on his screen. Your eyebrows furrowed more, and you wiggled under the covers as well. Placing your face more into the pillow. Jongho couldn’t help but notice his dick twitched. The thought of you dreaming about something explicit while you were on the phone with him drove him crazy. We wanted to be there to help you, but he couldn’t.

“Jongho~.” You very softly muttered out. Fuck.

He bit his lip after hearing his name. He watched as you writhed around under the cover again, probably agitated that you were not getting the sensation you desired at that moment. His dick had become half-erect just watching you struggle in your dream. What exactly were you dreaming about? He wished he could transport himself into your brain just to see what was going on in that little mind of yours. You whimpered out again. You were driving Jongho crazy, and you weren’t even there physically. Jongho couldn’t help it, but he had to touch himself. He swore to never do anything while you were sleeping, but this was different, right? You were not actually there for him to touch and play with. He just had himself.

He gracefully reached his hand into his sweatpants and began to rub his hand over his cock. Watching your figure with careful eyes and taking in every detail of your face. Taking in the sweet sounds you were letting out. Knowing you were dreaming about him doing explicit things to you. Touching all over you and making you feel this good, only it was your imagination, but damn, if it had you feeling this way now, he was only more curious to hear what you’d actually sound like if he did those things to you. He tilted his head back as he continued to stroke himself. Trying to not make any noise, afraid he’d wake you up and take you out of your wonderful dream. You cried out his name again, and he started to stroke himself faster. He bit his lip to try to hide the soft whimpers that were starting to come out. Closing his eyes, he imagined it was you touching him like this. His hand was not doing the trick; he needed to trick himself into thinking it was you.

“Fuck…Y/N.” He softly called out. The pace he had set for himself was perfect for achieving his high. Unknowingly, his plea was louder than he intended and slightly woke you up from your sleep. You groaned as you softly opened your eyes. Your groan made him go more mad, and he started stroking himself faster. Unaware of what was just happening, except for the damp feeling between your legs, you were alarmed to see Jongho quickly rubbing himself out in the hotel room. You put your head back down on the pillow and watched him with one eye open. Your hair falling over your eyes and hiding the open one perfectly. He looked so beautiful, harshly biting his lip with his head tilted back and eyes closed. You decided to try to be sneaky and let out another whimper, intentionally. You saw Jongho open his mouth and groan softly.

“God dammit baby…so fucking good.” He said through gritted teeth. He was trying so hard to stay quiet to keep you asleep, but the only thing he was doing was making you even more horny. The wet feeling on your lower half started to make more sense. You were having a wet dream, Jongho heard you whimpering and groaning in your sleep, and his little pervert brain couldn’t help but get turned on and he had to jack off to it. You wiggled in your bed and let out another intentional moan. Jongho let out a few curses before he curled himself forward and tried to catch all of his cum in a tissue he had thankfully grabbed before. His heavy breathing and soft moans were like music to your ears, but you wanted to watch him secretly. You bit your lip and pushed yourself into the bed to try to stimulate yourself. Jongho took a few minutes to gather himself before he glanced over at the screen and saw you were still "asleep." He softly smiled at you before getting up to throw his dirtied tissue away. His smile warms your heart, and you pull the blanket back up to your face to further hide yourself. Feeling satisfied that you can make your boyfriend feel good even from thousands of miles away from each other. Jongho returned into frame and leaned back against the pillow, and took a deep breath, letting it out with a loud sigh. He turned his head back to his phone and saw you. The absolute love of his life. Thankful you did not just see the mess he had made from watching and hearing you have a wet dream.

“I saw that.” You muttered loudly and watched his face turn stone cold. His eyes grow wider than you’ve ever seen and his face goes pale. He quickly looks at you and you start chuckling. Something about watching your boyfriend get all shocked and embarrassed that he just masturbated to you was hilarious to you.

Tags: @abby-grace @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982

#ateez #ateez x reader #kpop #ateez imagine #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #choi jongho #jongho #choi jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho imagines #jongho x reader #sugarnspice630 #ateez jongho #ateez choi jongho

[littlelioncub43]

Come On, Come On, Darling

Summary: A late night out with friends, and an uncomfortably deep talk has Eddie thinking about you. He just hopes you're thinking about him the same way.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, drinking, Eddie being an absolute angel and a gentleman, reader does Eddie's make up (you're welcome), pet names ( I overuse "princess," sue me), the rest of the ST gang all being happy, season 4 never happened here, Wayne being oddly insightful and a good uncle, more plot than anything, but smut will happen in part 3, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Word Count: 4,039

A/N: I started this a while ago, hated it, took a break from it, came back and finished it — bon appetit. Bahaha! No, the break from it was much needed. I think I was tired when I said it was awful, because upon review it wasn't that bad. I love this one, you guys. I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous of the fictional couple that I created. I hope you guys like this one! Part 3 will have ze smut, so you have to be patient and polite as you wait for it hehe. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a singing telegram— really anything. Ok! I love you!

Kisses 💋

—K

Part I. Series Masterlist Part III

The sound of random tinkering and a distant radio at the end of Mack’s Auto Garage welcomed you with a familiar warmth. Cars and trucks littered the parking lot and garage, random parts and pieces that made absolutely no sense to you sprawled out over the work benches. Eddie had a morning shift today, much to his dismay, but when money calls— he answers. Parking next to his decrepit van, you fiddle with the strap of your bag as you meander through the concrete workspace looking for him. You hear him long before you see him.

“Where did I put it? Son of a—“

“Missing something, Munson?” You interrupted Eddie’s nearly frantic search of his locker, his head snapping up in surprise. His normally untamed hair was pulled back into a low bun (with a scrunchie that looks suspiciously like the one you misplaced two weeks ago) with his favorite bandana tied around his brow to keep the sweat off. The dark blue coveralls with his name etched in red thread on his left chest were unzipped at his waist, a plain white t-shirt adorning his chest, oil and dirt smeared into the fabric were he wiped his hands clean on his thighs. 

“Yeah, my freaking lighter. That thing must have finally grown legs and ran off or some shit,” he rambles and resumes to pat down the pockets of his leather jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“You left this in my car,” you slip the silver flip lighter from the back pocket of your black jeans and wiggle it between your thumb and index finger, “figured you’d need it sooner than later.”

“Oh, you’re a beautiful, gracious, and kind woman,” he groans dramatically with relief, happily taking the lighter from you. You chuckle and lean against the hood of the car at his bench, Eddie following suit. He pops a cigarette into his mouth and lights it swiftly, taking a long drag, his eyes shut as he holds it in at the top, and slowly blowing out a wispy cloud of smoke. 

“Jesus Christ, you have no idea how badly I needed that,” he grumbles before bringing it back to his lips, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh. Yeah, you, too, Sweets, thanks,” he teases with a coy smile. You playfully shove his shoulder, making him laugh around the cigarette. “We still on for drinks later with Steve and them?”

“7, right?” He hums an affirmative, “yeah, that sounds good,” you glance at the clock on the wall, “Shit, I gotta go, my shift starts soon.”

“Okay,” he nods, crushing out the partially spent cigarette in the ashtray on his bench as you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket. “Wear that cute top, the black one that hangs off your shoulders,” he calls out after you as you walk away.

“Why?” You chuckle and turn to look at him while you walk backwards, the move alone made Eddie think you were the coolest fucking chick that ever graced this floating space rock. 

“It’s pretty,” he shrugged casually as he slung the arms of his coveralls back on, but you noticed the soft dusting of color along his cheeks. 

“Fine, but only if you tuck your shirt into your pants,” you bargain and point at him from your spot at the mouth of the garage. He groans, making you laugh. 

“I’m going to look like a loser!” He whines, failing to hide his smile at your giggling. 

“That’s the point! I’ll see you then, Gomer,” you tease and finally get to your car, if you stayed any longer you’d definitely be late for your shift at the record shop. 

You heard his van pull into your driveway just as you were finishing the last bit of your eye makeup. You always went light with the mascara and eyeliner for the sake of being comfortable, and it made washing your face a lot easier at the end of the night. The sound of Eddie’s keys jingling was followed by his bright voice calling your name. When you came out of your room, you found him sitting on your counter, munching on a bag of chips. 

“Oo, look at you all prettied up,” he coos around a mouthful of Doritos. You feel your face heat up ever so slightly at his words, you did feel pretty. The knit, long sleeve black top that Eddie had requested clung to your shape deliciously, precisely the reason he loved it so much. The neckline was low enough to show off your collarbones and bits of your shoulder, and gave you the perfect opportunity to show off the pendant necklace that Eddie got for your graduation present years ago. Tight ripped black jeans matched Eddie’s own pair down to the black studded belt, except you swapped out your comfortable pair of converses for a chunky black boot. Eddie was positive: you were the coolest chick to ever live. 

“I was going to say the same thing about you, Munson,” you chuckle and take him in, he does a little twirl. He wore his classic black jeans and handcuff belt, a staple in Eddie’s uniform. A black AC/DC t shirt hugged his sturdy torso and was neatly tucked into his jeans, just like you asked. You gotta admit: he did not look like a loser. He never did. 

“Ya think so? I was worried that my jacket didn’t match my purse,” he jokes. 

“No, no, they do, don’t worry,” you soothe and try to hide your smile. Suddenly, you speak before your mind can catch up with what you’re saying. “Do you want some eyeliner?”

“What?” Eddie chuckles, licking the Dorito dust from his fingers. You swallow and decide, fuck it, you already asked.

“Do you want some eyeliner? I think it would… look nice,” you stutter out as smoothly as you can. He thinks it over for a brief second before he nods casually. 

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Eddie manages to sound calm, much to his surprise. His heart may have skipped a few beats at your small compliment. 

The next thing he knows you have him sat at your vanity, facing you as you stand in between his legs. One hand gently cups his jaw while the other wields a stick of your favorite black eyeliner. You try your best not to get lost in the feeling of his stubble scratching at your palm or the warmth of his hands on your outer thighs, and focus on drawing in the darkness around his eyes. Eddie sits as still as he can, the last thing he wants is to lose an eye. He trusts you completely, it’s his fidgeting that he doesn’t trust. 

“Ok, close your eyes for me,” you say softly, the closeness brought your voice to a hushed whisper. Eddie shut his eyes without a second thought, he listened to the steady inhale and exhale as you stood in front of him. Eddie was unfairly gorgeous, his sweeping eyelashes, the placid expression that soothed his face coupled with the calm trust that surrounded you both made your heart flutter and your knees buckle. Steeling your nerves, you carefully applied the makeup along his upper lashes. “Alright, open. Look up, please.”

Eddie stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to flinch as you brought the product under his lashes. He wished so badly to be able to watch you, you were so cute when you concentrated on things. Your eyebrows furrowed, drawn together in concentration, and your face set in an oddly serious expression. With one last smudge of eyeliner, you pulled back with a smile. 

“All done. What d’ya think?” You ask and put your makeup away as he turns to look in the mirror. 

“Not bad, not bad. What do you think?” He quirks an eyebrow. If you were honest, he was the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and that was without the makeup on. With the dark circles rimming his gorgeous brown eyes, he was deadly. But you couldn’t exactly say that. 

“I think you look super cool,” you say honestly and grab your purse. 

“Metal?” He stood up, following you out of your room.

“Very metal, but if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to be very late,” you chuckle and hand him his leather jacket and keys. Eddie nods and slips one his jacket with ease, the full ensemble complete, and, fuck, did he look hot. He locked the front door after you, skipping quickly ahead to open the passenger seat door for you. 

“M’lady,” he bows, grinning like an idiot when you curtsey back and hop in. 

It was going to be a fun night. 

And it was. 

Steve, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy were sat comfortably at the table when you and Eddie arrived. Jokes were told, laughs were shared, and drinks were poured. Lots and lots of drinks. By midnight, the whole table was on the heavier side of tipsy, if not drunk. Steve and Robin were neck deep in a debate on whether or not Michael Myers was human or not, with Jonathan acting as moderator while Nancy fought through the spins. At some point, you ended up in Eddie’s lap, your arm slung around his shoulders with his own circled around your waist while you both listened and weighed in on what you have dubbed “The Great Halloween Dispute of 1987.” 

Eddie had slipped his jacket off after his second beer, revealing his toned arms (all those shifts at the garage were paying off in more ways than one), the short sleeves of his t shirt rolled up ever so slightly. You toyed with a strand of Eddie’s hair like always and sipped on a glass of water, one that Eddie was quick to swipe from your hand. He took a good gulp without much thought and set it on the table. 

“Well, Princess, what do you think? Should we call it a night?” He slurs his words as he rubs the length of your outer thigh absentmindedly. 

“Yeeaah,” you drawl, your head was starting to spin even from the safety of Eddie’s lap. Looking down at him, you were struck again with the overwhelming feeling flooding your heart. Even in the low light of the seedy bar, he looks like the perfect man that God, or whoever is up there, made just for you. You bring one hand to rest on his forearm, your thumb stroking the bat tattoos you love gently. Eddie tightens his grip on you before giving you that million dollar smile, one that you can’t help but return with drunken ease. He pats your leg, signaling for you to stand, and you do, much to your objection (you were quite comfortable in his lap). 

“Alright, gang, as fun as it’s been, the missus and I gotta head out,” Eddie announces as you slip away to pay for your drinks before he can. A chorus of slurred but friendly goodbyes send Eddie on his way to the bar just as you finish forking over the money for both his and your drinks. “Noooo, you don’ pay for drinks,” he scolds as you put your wallet away, his face scrunched in a pout. 

“Yeah? Who said?” You playfully tease as he slides his leather coat over your shoulders, one glance outside and he knew that you’d be chilly on the way to the van. You subtly breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, the same one you got for his birthday 2 years ago.

“Pretty girls don’ pay for drinks, everyone knows that,” he casually answers, he was much bolder with about 4 glasses of liquid courage warming his blood. You laugh, not bothering to hide the bashfulness in your voice and he smiles at the sound, leading you out to the van at the far end of the parking lot. He saw the way you shivered and pulled the oversized jacket around you tighter. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he opens the back doors and quickly starts setting up the blankets he had stored in the back. You must have made a face because Eddie’s soon laughing and shaking his head. “M’not drivin’ you home drunk, Princess. Could get ya hurt, s’too dangerous. Now, com’on.”

Your heart does a summersault at his words, but that’s just who he was. Caring, sweet, understanding, reliable, trustworthy. That’s Eddie Munson. He sees the fondness in your smile again, his stomach erupting in butterflies. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit, this is where he would tell you how gorgeous you are and kiss you, if you’d let him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he hops out of the van and holds out his hand to help you inside. 

The old mattress he keeps tucked away in the back is draped in blankets, folded as neatly as a drunk Eddie could get them. You sit at the end of the makeshift bed, your legs hanging out the doors to take off your boots. Without a word, Eddie starts untying your laces, carefully undoing the knots, slipping the shoes off your feet and setting them neatly next to the mattress. 

“Thank you,” you meekly reply, the sweet gesture having stolen your voice.

“You’re welcome, Sweets,” he pats your leg, “scoot over.”

He hops in, shutting the doors behind him before double checking that all the doors are locked. You hide a yawn behind your hand as he settles down on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes unceremoniously. You slip off your belt and other jewelry, opting to stay in your jeans for the night. Eddie does the same, slinging his belt into the pile with his shoes before crawling under the questionably clean blanket. He sighs and settles in with a groan, his eyes shutting for only a moment before he’s watching you tuck your earrings into the pocket of his leather jacket. You turn around to find Eddie making grabby hands at you, smiling, you crawl in next to him, letting him pull you into his chest and tuck the blanket around you both snugly. The chill of the van made cuddling a necessity, even under the blanket you could feel the stagnant bite of cold of the coming winter. Letting out a content sigh, you relaxed into the comfortable silence, the world around you only slightly spinning now as sleep began to descend on you. Eddie stares up at the metal roof, his eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier as the moments tick by. 

“I like when you tuck your shirts in,” you sleepily confess, your voice was hushed as you whispered your little secret to your best friend. He can’t help but chuckle tiredly at your words, the sound more akin to a deep rumble as opposed to his normally bright laughter. 

“Yeah?” Is all he can think to say, his face burning even in the chilly van. 

“Yeah,” you shyly confirm, tracing the bats on his forearm once more, the action sends Eddie into a tizzy.

“Y’like when I look like a dweeb?” He jokes with a yawn, sleep fast approaching. 

“You never look like a dweeb,” you mumble just before you drift off, your fingers slowing to a stop on his skin, If he wasn’t tired, he would have teased you to hell and back about it, but all he can do it chuckle lowly in his chest and hold you a little tighter. Why do you have to be so cute?

“I like when we sleep like this,” he rested his cheek on the top of your head, letting one hand stroke your arm tenderly, the action only pushing you quicker towards sleep. He hears you hum in acknowledgement and agreement. 

“Me too, Eds.”  

There’s a few moments of silence before Eddie realizes you’re asleep.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Eddie whispers with a smile and kisses the crown of your head, the sound of your even breaths fill the van and lull him into his own peaceful slumber. 

Eddie wakes up to the sound of your soft snores and the growl of a stray truck chugging down the street. Your back is pressed to his front as you both lay on your sides, his arm under your head like a pillow and out stretched, his other arm was strung across your waist. The warmth of your body pressed against his had fought off the cold of the night exceptionally well, it drew him in for more, so he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The smell of your perfume mixing with the scent of his own cologne had Eddie groaning softly, this was the life. Nothing could bring him down, not even the soft thudding in his head or the dryness of his mouth. 

You stirred next to him, your eyes still shut as you reached out for Eddie’s hand on instinct. When your smaller hand found his, you immediately laced your fingers together. Eddie looked at where your hands were joined and gave a small incredulous scoff and smile, his arm around your midsection squeezed you into him hard enough to force the air out of you. 

“Why are you so damn cute? Huh? Who said you could be this fucking adorable?” He rambled on in a groggy whisper, his morning voice was just as glorious as you remember it being. You giggle as consciousness fills you. 

“It’s a curse, really. Doctors have been studying me for years, it’s a medical mystery,” you joke and carefully rub your eyes with your free hand. You were surprised to find that you felt well rested for having slept in the back of your best friend’s van after a night of drinking with no pillow, in a pair of tight jeans, and no fan. You peek over your shoulder to find Eddie’s puppy eyes already staring back at you. The smudges of eyeliner looked even better in the morning sunshine. You could only imagine how you look right now. “Wanna get breakfast?”

“God, yes,” he mumbles with a smile. He was starving, plus he wanted to pay you back for covering his drinks last night. Reluctantly, he peels his hand from yours to reach for his shoes and keys. You hum and stretch out a little, cracking your back before getting your shoes back on as well. You’re both quick to fold the blankets and get into your seats, the pits in your stomach rumbled and demanded to be satisfied. The drive to the nearest diner was thankfully short. 

Before long, you and Eddie find yourselves tucked into a booth with plates of hot food and even hotter coffee in front of you. The looks you receive from the other patrons did nothing but amuse you both. And what a sight you both were: strolling in at 9am reeking of the drink that Nancy accidentally spilled, last night’s makeup smeared across your eyes, bed hair, both dressed to the nines in black. Compared to the lovely elderly couple on their weekly Sunday morning date, you both looked like bats out of Hell. When you offered the old woman a polite smile, she was quick to return it, her husband was busy staring Eddie down, clearly not a fan of his tattoos or makeup. Soon, the plates were cleared and the cups were emptied, and you both meandered your way back to the van. 

“Alright, Sweetheart, back home, it is?” He asks as he backs out of the parking lot, you scroll through the radio stations, hoping to find something good on.

“Yes, please, I need to shower,” you groan, the longer you stayed in your makeup the more grimy you felt. A hot shower would solve all your problems. 

“Oo, no chance you’ll let me join, would you?” Eddie half jokes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes with a smile and shake your head. “Damn, next time, then.”

Quicker than he’d like, he parks in front of your trailer. You gather your things, double checking that you have everything before hopping out of the passenger side. With a quick goodbye, you’re bounding indoors, making a beeline for the shower. Eddie watches until you’re inside then makes his own way home. He’s surprised to find Wayne’s car parked in its spot in the yard. 

“You just getting in?” Wayne asks as soon as the door opens, Wayne sat at the kitchen table, eating whatever leftovers were in the fridge before heading to bed. Eddie sets his keys aside on the table and nods. “Out with that girl, again?” Eddie gives him a look as he sought out a glass of water, Wayne knew your name but he just liked giving Eddie a hard time, especially when he stays out all night. 

“Yeah, we had some drinks with some friends, it ran a little later than planned.”

“Did you and her…” Wayne trails off, tilting his head to finish his sentence. 

“Oh God,” Eddie sighs and hangs his head. Wayne would ask from time to time, and it never ceased to be awkward as balls. 

“I’m just askin’. If you are, I’d rather you be safe about i—“ he defends calmly. 

“I know how to be safe about—“ Eddie cuts himself off with another sigh, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I know how to be safe, but no. We did not… do things.”

“Ok,” Wayne nods, throwing his hands up in surrender to show that he dropped it. Eddie relaxes and finishes his water, happy to escape the awkward conversation. Or so he thought. “It’s obvious you like her, so I thought it would have happened by now.” 

Eddie sputters a few words, each sentence of denial dying on his tongue. Wayne gives him a look and Eddie just knows that denying it isn’t any good. He flops into the chair on the other side of the table, looking up to his uncle through his lashes. 

“How obvious is it?” Eddie asks softly. In that moment, Wayne sees the years fall away from Eddie and what’s left behind is what Wayne saw all those years ago: his kid nephew, lost and needing guidance. He smiles warmly, a rare sight, and scratches his head. 

“Well, it’s not super obvious,” Wayne grumbles gently, resting his forearms on the table, “but I’m sure some of your friends notice it too.”

Eddie curses under his breath, his face hot with embarrassment. If other people could see how bad he has it for you, then that means you might see it too. 

“Do… Do you think she knows?” He asks shyly, fiddling with the rings on his fingers for comfort. Wayne leans back in his chair, giving a small shrug. 

“She might,” that answer weighs heavily on Eddie but Wayne is quick to try fix it, “but, would that be a bad thing?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know,” Eddie rambles, bouncing his leg as he does the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out if you knew. 

“Personally, kid, I don’t think it would be. Knowin’ that you love her, how could that be bad?” His words knock around in Eddie’s head for a few moments before he speaks in a small voice. 

“It could ruin everything,” Wayne couldn’t help but laugh at those words. 

“Kid, lovin’ someone doesn’t ruin a damn thing,” he smiles and crosses his arms. “If it’s right, then it’s right. If not, then it’s not. But that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.”

Eddie took in his words again, chewing his lip nervously. He hated when Wayne was like this, all insightful and wise. It was unnerving, but at the same time, he always knew exactly what Eddie needed to hear. 

“You do what you think is best, Eddie. I’m gonna go to bed now, I’ll see ya tonight,” he stands and pats Eddie’s back as he makes his way towards the pull out sofa. Eddie mumbles his goodnights and makes his way to his own room, Wayne’s alarmingly wise words knocking around his head as he gets ready for a shower. 

Would it be so bad if you knew? He was going to find out. 

Part I. Part III

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[undercoverpena]

i. say what you want

javier peña x f!reader | chapter one of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. romcom vibes. an: i really wanted to write actual 00s text talk, but it broke my brain and made it hard to edit so, forgive me. pls imagine all the cul8r and yw's. massive thank you to @guyfieriii for convincing me to write the idea i hammered on about and holding my hand as i do. wordcount: 2.5k.

read the prologue

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Boredom flitters through him, trickling down his bones in the same way a bead of condensation drips down his beer.

His eyes track it, watching it land in the pool on the worn, splintered porch table. 

He was tired, drained. Fingers and thumb working his forehead as the other taps an unknown beat against the arm of the chair: a habit, a routine. 

Javi didn’t follow his Pop to the television or the tavern. He seated himself out here, taking in the fields—both the new and recently fixed fences that kept the livestock alive and merry. 

It hadn’t always been his thing, just more so since he began sleeping a bit better—having found it easier to switch off one night when he sat out here. The day slowly rolled from his shoulders with each brush of the warm breeze, each muscle trying to unknot with a rustle of the trees. 

That and it gave him privacy in learning how to use his new phone. 

The one bought with the intention of not needing to stand hovered near the kitchen on the landline whenever Steve insisted on checking in on him. 

He was the only one with the number—outside of his Pop. The option to hand it to others when he felt like it, he’d been told. Mainly, Javi had strongly suspected it was pandering to an alternative way for Steve to bother him about how happy he was, and how Miami would be good for him for a week or two.  

Now someone else had it. 

Someone unknown. Who wrote with a speed he couldn’t emulate, watching a reply fly back before he’d even wrapped his head around what was happening. All black letters standing out against green—

Truthfully, if not for how panicked and stressed they had sounded, he would have ignored it. Later, even deleted it (once he’d figured out how). 

But, because he couldn’t, it goaded him. 

His thumb slid his phone on, staring at it—the small, ridiculous exchange. It torments him in a way that unfurls something with him. 

Curiosity, mainly. A need to know more. 

Wrapping his fingers, he takes a mouthful of his beer. Continuing to clutch the neck of it, resting it on his knee. Staring at the lit screen on the table, his thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closing—shutting out the way the evening sun waves goodbye to the day. 

It’s easy to force himself to forget about the throbbing in his palm from fixing another fence panel—and the simmering prickling after he saw a small boat pass. It’s harder to ignore it. 

The phone on the table, the one he lands on as he cracks open his eye, the one he can’t pick up and just see—ask. 

It’s always been a problem, his need to close the lid on something. The not knowing pecking in the back of his head all day, if not—had done since he was little, led to him gaining even more invisible scars from Colombia. 

But it’s also what had made him good. 

Even if, for all his success and accolades, he was alone on a Thursday night. Sat on the porch he’d grown up on—his own father even has plans. 

He shouldn’t text. He should delete the number like he was asked to—forget all about the random stranger and their date. 

how’d your date go

Truthfully, Javi regrets it the moment he sends it. The moment the sound registers in his ear—sound simmering to nothing before it drenches him. 

Bouncing his leg, he coats his throat in more of his beer. Swallowing it back quicker than he’s found, he can even text. Rolling his phone, swirling it between finger and thumb as he stares across the land—listening to the evening sweep over, the cicadas waking up, the rustle of the breeze in the trees.

Why are you texting me? I’m intrigued

He keeps it short. Sweet. 

It allows for quickness, pressing send and for his fingers to go back to flexing, needing to tap.

A sudden desperation on the tip of his tongue—nose itching for the scent of burning papers and tobacco leaves. Instead, pressing the button on his phone, seeing if he’s missed a text, or a reply.

Even if he’s been holding it the entire time, knowing he would have felt the vibration through the pads of his fingers down to his wrist. 

His stomach slowly slides, uncomfortably dropping to his feet with a thud. Regret washes over, the itch growing more intensely as the hunger for a smoke increases. Wishing he hadn’t given them up a year ago—hadn’t tried to kick the habit to appease his pop. Wishing he hadn’t been able to do so successfully, so he could light one now without feeling culpability. 

Mountains of regrets begin to pile all over again. Little ones. Adding up into bigger—

They didn’t show. Happy?

He pauses. 

His stomach drops another inch. Happiness is the last thing he feels. 

Grabbing the beer from the table as he takes a sip, more graceful—less through a need to busy himself and more for courage. Hand clutching his phone, the green-lit screen standing out as the chirping croon around him. 

shit, I’m sorry about that We can stop texting now. What if I said I didn’t want to I’d wonder if you’re bored or lonely.

That makes him smirk. It cuts across his face, paints over the day's aches, the text slicing through the day's misfortune. 

Ones such as the stares when he went to the hardware shop—even if he’s been back for a while; the gossip that he could hear in thick whispers on the aisle over—as though they weren’t all used to him being home. 

All of it vanishes. All because of a quick-witted text. 

can a man who has moved back in with his pops at 30-something years old be both  Overachiever that’s what I hear Should tell you, I'm not going to tell you what I’m wearing. Last night was a rarity, not a common occurrence.

He takes another sip, licking his bottom lip, shifting in his chair. His fingers slowly press buttons—but the blinking line swallows them all, thumb hammering to delete. 

This should be easy—talking to a woman. 

Javi has never usually had this problem. But, then, his tongue has typically said the words his brain has thought up. Now he has to type them, allowing him to linger on them—especially with how slow he is, and how quick you are. 

it’s not the underwear that had me coming back to text you, it was you

Oh. So you’re a charmer.  Not sure it’s the usual word women call me, but I’ll take it  Because you’re bored and lonely. 

He snorts, if only to himself. 

The stars slowly twinkle, shining above him as he mumbles, “fuck”. Staring out into the nothingness, suddenly feeling not quite as empty as he had done when he first woke. 

yeah because I’m bored and fucking lonely, hermosa

I shouldn’t text you. 

probably a wise choice

Yet I am. 

And I kinda want to. 

you like talking to bored and lonely men? 

Not usually. But you do seem charming. 

it’s a gift

Since we skipped pleasantries and jumped straight into my underwear choice, do you have a name?

I do

Hilarious.

it’s Javi. 

Okay, Javi who lives with his dad—how’s your evening?

Is it an appropriate response to a bad day to drink two bottles of wine?

depends on the day

It was real shitty.

then drink away, hermosa. you ok

I will be. 

Not because of the wine. Because I’m out of town tomorrow so I don’t have to deal with the person tomorrow. 

colleague giving you shit?

I think it may be his life's purpose to make my day as shitty as it can be. 

I can relate 

Worked with an asshole or two in your time, Javi? 

most definitely. one day I may even tell you about one named bill

I look forward to it. 

Guess from that comment you don’t mind that we’re still talking?

not even a little bit

is it weird to ask you how your day has gone? 

You bored again, charmer? 

just taking an interest 

It’s fine, hotel food kinda sucks, so I’m tucking into some chips and dip. 

they at least good, the chips and dip? 

Oh, I only buy the good kind. I don’t cheap out on dip. 

I never asked, did you ever find Aish’s number? 

Yes. One digit, that was all between you and her. 

Also, she finds the entire thing hilarious. Because, of course, she does. 

I think if this happened to Steve, I’d find it funny too 

Steve your friend or? 

wouldnt you like to know 

A girl is just trying to make a conversation

he’s a friend from my old job

You see him much? 

no. you see Aish much? 

Not as much as I’d like. But, more my fault, I travel a lot for work. 

I see. what kind of dip you got? 

If I tell you, I fear you’d know too much 

that a bad thing, hermosa 

Well, a girl can’t so easily let you know her weakness, Javi. 

He used to hate the rain. 

Despised the smell that lingered after a good fall, how it trapped him in or soaked him to his bones if he ran through it. 

Now, he finds it pleasant—watching it fall in waves of mist that cools the air and hammers itself into the ground. The sound of the television flutters from the living room to his ear, merging with the tapping of his pencil against the newspaper—his eyes busy fixated on watching the heavens open amongst the ranch. Drenching, washing away bits and pieces it can. 

If someone had told him he’d have gotten into crosswords back in Colombia, he’d have thrown the paper at them. 

Now though, it was therapeutic. A mystery with no significant risks, no real need to finish it—but he never left it half-done all the same. 

Guess who tried to rearrange the date. you told him no, right I told him to fuck off, actually. 

Javi laughs. 

It escapes quickly, dancing right past his bottom lip—before he mutes it. He clasps his lips around it, swallowing it back before his pop asks him what he finds so funny. 

Pushing the newspaper away, the pencil rolls and rolls until it collides with the wall, his fingers circling over the keys, thinking—processing. 

Sometimes a response to you comes with ease; others, he finds he thinks more carefully. Each message he wants to be considered, intentional. An ember having ignited in his chest, not sure what it meant—why it was there—but not wanting to give it any reason to have it stuffed out. 

as a minimum you deserve someone who tells you they can’t make it on the actual night  Charmer.  bare minimum, hermosa I know what that word means now, btw.  btw? By the way. It’s quicker than repeatedly clicking buttons.  I don’t think I asked, what do you do? 

Stroking his fingers across the hair above his lip, he pauses. 

Biting down on the inside of his mouth, a pang of regret flooded him. 

At times, it comes in waves. Washing over him when he thinks of what he used to do, what he’s good at—compared to what he does now. 

Biting the inside of his mouth, Javi lifts his eyes to watch a droplet falling down the pane of glass—trailing a path, merging with others until it creates a blow on the sill. 

He likes being home—has to remind himself that he does too. 

Especially when his muscles ache, new cuts on top of other ones—crosswords and occasional beers being the excitement he now comes to expect. 

Sighing, it’s swallowed by the show in the other room and the rain falling heavier—spotting, in the distance, the cows lying down, one by one. 

you want to know a lot for saying you wanted me to delete your number btw to answer your question I work on the ranch my family owns  A rancher? Good to know you’re good with your hands.  That sounded more flirtatious than I meant. I don’t mind.  And just so you know, hermosa. I am. 

He wipes his thumb across his smile, foot tapping on the wooden floor, staring at the screen. 

It's happened before, the edge of flirting. The two of you step towards it before one of you pulls back. 

His heart thumps in his chest, fingers flexing on the table—so used to the hue of green now, it’s all he sees when he blinks. The vibration his phone makes registered in his bones, his body trying to convince him he’s felt it as he waits. 

It’s cruel. The way seconds turn into minutes. 

His phone screen dulls before he relights it. 

I don’t even know what to say to that.  well are you good with your hands I’m a quicker typer than you, so I think that’s a given. 

He smirks, it cuts into his cheeks—shaking his head in disarray as he leans back in the chair. It protests. Practically cringes under the new movement. 

Like much of the house, the years have done a number on it. So much of it all the same from when he was growing up—just fixed, repainted, repurposed. 

At first, he’d found it hard to be surrounded by it. Almost swallowed by memories—both the good and the bad. 

Now, he just thinks it’s paused, frozen in time. Sometimes, a tired mind even lets him believe his Ma could turn the corner, asking him if he’ll bike to get her flour.  

I was DEA in Colombia. it’s how I met Steve  I can imagine with all of the news coming out of there, that would have been hard.  Something like that  My first job was in my dad’s tool shop. I wasn’t very good at it.

Rolling his head to rest on his shoulder, he reads your message a few times. 

The change in conversation was appreciated, not that he’ll voice it. He briefly wonders if it’s a tactical choice or accidental. 

Hoping it’s the former as he takes in each letter, each word—fingers teasing his chin, rereading as he imagines an outline of a person sitting somewhere, curled in. Just like he is. 

Maybe staring down, waiting for his reply, like he waits for yours. 

A break from the mundane, a pleasantry in a sea of normalcy. 

Something he wants to protect—hoping you do too. 

How come?  Apparently, continuously mixing up tools isn’t good for customers—even if my dad was impressed with our profit increase.

49 down is slither

What’s the clue again?

skeleton section

You do this every day? 

I try 

yes okay I do 

It’s ribcage, Javi.

you hermosa are brilliant 

Glad you’ve caught on, charmer. 

I think you’re just finding a reason to talk to me, because that one was easy. 

I don’t need a crossword to find ways to talk to you

No? 

no, there’s lots I don’t know about you 

I’m not that interesting. I promise 

I doubt that. 

Favorite way to start your day? 

Wouldn’t you like to know? 

an: anyone grinning as much as me...

next chapter ->

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña smut #javi peña smut #javier peña x reader smut #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #mm: late night texts

[strawburry01]

Northern Attitude

Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.

Word Count: 3k

No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.

Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...

It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.

You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town. 

Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.

You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office. 

You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.

“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.

“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.

You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.

“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.

You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it. 

It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping. 

As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.

“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.

“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side. 

It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.

“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious. 

“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner. 

When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years-  expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.

“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth. 

“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.

“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.

“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-

your-

university-

situationship- 

showing up again in your life. 

Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face. 

“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life. 

Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak. 

You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object. 

The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.

“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen. 

“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.

“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent. 

“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.

“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.

But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone. 

“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.

“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.

“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned. 

Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.

A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar. 

“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.

“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.

“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves. 

“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange. 

“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”. 

“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.

“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again. 

“You know you could have that’s all,”. 

“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.

“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.

“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.

“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.

A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.

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