#when you are a kid and think light is the coolest and when you are a teen and think L is the coolest etc

[jackiepackiee]

I have a request! Can we have atsushi, dazai, ranpo, chuuya (+yasano, if desired you can cut out some characters) with a fem!ballerina s/o

ex: does big roles, (giselle, black swan, clara) and their opinions about her profession. ty!

𝐵𝒮𝒟 𝓍 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲/ 𝒜𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓈𝒽𝒾, 𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾, 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓅𝑜, 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒴𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑜

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝒩𝒶𝓊𝓇

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

Atsushi Nakajima

Whipped

You’re dating for a bit, and he’s seen your practice

But when you invite him to the stage door for a quick good luck kiss before his first show, he’s in AWE

Your costume?! He almost dies

You’re perfect!

(His fav is Sleeping beauty when you’re Aurora)

So when he finally sees you on stage, music and lights and dance

He almost passes out

If it wasn’t for the fact he had to watch you, he would’ve gotten some air

He’s just so in love

He loves to come to rehearsal

So well behaved, completely silent

Just watching you the entire time, in amazement

He doesn’t have money to offer for costumes or lessons, but he will be the biggest supporter in your life

He is however confused by everything

He isn’t very artisticlly intellectual…

And when you first break in your shoes, he screams

He thought you were wasting money and destroying them… if only he knew

He’ll give you massaged each night after shows, especially if you also had a matinee

Dazai Osamu

He is no longer as serious, but he will become the most reserved and mature gentleman you know when he sees your shows

People will think he’s a regular at these events, and everything will look at him with awe

And his attention will only be on you

Obviously he’s going to look at the other performers, but his eyes are glued on you

Secretly bored when you’re not on stage

He’ll see you, but after that he is childish again

Picking you up into his arms, probably coughing from the smell of hairspray in your hair

“Gosh, I can’t breathe! Your hair is perfect, but this is too much.”

And if the ADA happens to be there too? Don’t be surprised

He is always talking about you when work is boring

Atsushi thinks it’s the coolest, and is looking at your like you’re a goddess

(He’s like your son, and he looks up to you. Dazai loves that)

Back to ballet, he will kiss your cheek

But nothing else, he hates to ruin your makeup

And when you come home after?

He holds you all night after a show

He’s a master at anatomy and will massage you your body in every place needed

Before show texts “break a leg, but not actually! Cant wait!”

Overall? A fan, but more of a lover

Ranpo Edogawa

Most people think Ranpo has no attention span, and they’re mostly right…

But! He is fully able to focus on your performance

Loves your darker roles

But that’s mostly because he thinks that darker characters have more depth

This man is a thinker, and while he loves your dancing he prefers the story

And adores the way you are able to tell a story or send a message by your body movement

He loves more feminine roles too, but he appreciates your beauty more than he can focus

That’s the only reason he can stand the shows

Because he can obviously tell the entire story before the first dance sequence is over

You shine on that stage, and he’s infatuated

His eyes are OPEN

After your show, he’ll smile like a little kid

That maturity he had at the show? Gone, he’s himself again

Loves the shows about mysteries

This guy will ask Poe to write a show, and have him hire a choreographer to make a new shoe just for you to star in and for him to enjoy the story

His childish behavior is love, and intense affection because he’s so happy with how well you did

He praises you, so take it

He doesn’t do that for anyone else

Chuuya Nakahara

Classier than ever

Goes to each show with a box seat, sitting alone or with Koyo

Everyone thinks “oh, that guy is so mysterious”

Thinks you’re literally a light in his life

A bright beauty in his dark world

And when you walk onto that stage, he is focused on you like a hawk

Not scary, but such attention to detail that his stare is unbreaking

Not looking at a single other performer, unlessss they are your friend and you tell him about them when you’re rambling about your rehearsals

He’ll give them a glance, but only because he wants to be ready for every single topic of conversation you may wish to have

And when you’re done? He tells you to come out to see him in your costume, even if your director doesn’t allow that

He’s Chuuya Nakahara, he gets what he wants from anyone

He wants to give you a kiss when you look like a doll, dressed up perfectly

He hugs you, and tells you every time

“You were incredible. Go get more comfortable darling, I’ll wait outside the backstage. We will talk in the car. Maybe a little treat is waiting?”

The treat is always exactly what you want

Necklaces? Dress? Tickets to something? It’s there, at the moment you would love it most

Always helps you wash your hair when you get home

Running warm water in his fancy shower, hands making quick work on your hair and all the products that held it together

Will buy one of those high tech foot massagers for when you’re done

He hates how you’re in pain

And will do anything to make you feel better

Because you’re perfect, and he loves you

Yosano Akiko

Brags to each and EVERY member of the agency

Makes all of them attended at least one show

(Her favorite is black swan, you’re just sexy in that one 🤷🏻‍♀️)

If you could see her from on stage while you’re preforming (obviously you can’t) you’d see her paying more attention to you than she has to anything in her entire life

You’re the dainty and sweet girlfriend, and she’s your badass man-killer woman

She is incredible at anatomy, and gives you the best tips on warming up

Best ways to strengthen and grow your muscles without getting larger

Ugh, she’ll put her hands on your waist while teaching you how to twist and turn to stretch a certain way

You know how she loves shopping?

She will make at least one date a month a shopping date

Making sure to buy the most high tech and recommend leotards for practice

New shoes that need breaking in?

She owns at least 14 hammers

Nails? Gone. Foot board? Snapped into shape.

Thinks you’re PERFECT but is the best shot talker of the others?

The girl who thinks she deserved the lead, but didn’t get it so she hates on you?

Yeah, a glass of wine and Akiko will tear that girl to shreds with insults

But she’s supportive!!

Pretty girlfriend x sexy girlfriend life

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x fem!reader #kunikida doppo x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs ranpo #bungou stray dogs dazai #ranpo edogawa x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #kunikida x reader #ranpo x reader #atsushi x reader #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd ranpo #yosanoakikoxreader #yosano x reader #yosano akiko

[doctrpepper]

actually its so hard to get into death note as an adult. you have to be a teen and think L and light are the coolest and then revisit that obsession later as an adult and realize its a comedy

#a romantic comedy #lierally. sometimes i think about it and laugh #its so funny! its so #it has everything. #homoerotism because the author hates women #supernarural spectators #a sad little gay boy #touta matsuda (loml) #my post #death note #when you are a kid and think light is the coolest and when you are a teen and think L is the coolest etc #and then as an adult you think matsuda is the coolest and also misa deserved better

[begaycommittreason]

honestly i forgot that dick originally wanted to adopt jason as well just imagine how chaotic that would’ve been like

——————

jay: uh what’s for dinner

dick: well we have cereal and…

dick:

dick: hey don’t kids like the whole breakfast for dinner thing?

jay: i miss alfred

——————

dick: and for a bed i’d like to introduce you to this lovely thing called a futon!!

jay: …better than a cardboard box i guess

——————

jay: can i fight crime yet

dick: you’re a child

jay: you’re a slightly larger child

dick: …fair point, no extreme violence and minimum 4 flips per patrol

——————

dick: when a mommy and daddy love each other very much—

jay: i am not doing this with you dickface i know what sex is

dick: wait no little wing i have a powerpoint presentation. it’s color coded and everything!

jay: i wish i’d stayed on the street

——————

dick: okay that’s enough, you know what, get on top of the fridge

jay, hissing: this house is a fucking nightmare

——————

jay: hey some friends at school wanted to watch a movie, is it okay if they come here—

dick: yes, yes! oh my god finally i’m so proud you’re making friends jaybird, i’m gonna be the coolest host dad ever i’ll make pizza and

jay, already on the phone: yeah he said no, sorry guys, can we do it at tommy’s?

——————

dick teaching jason trapeze and circus stuff 😭

——————

jay: god the circus is so lame

dick: exCUSE ME i’m disowning you, get out

jay: WHAT

——————

dick, who forgot to pick up jay from school: oh god i’m so sorry, i’ll never do it again

jay, who’s thrilled to be allowed in the library after hours every time, but never one to pass on a guilt trip: wow dick i never thought you of all people would abandon me

——————

dick: listen my support group says-

jay: you joined a support group for single moms dickface, that doesn’t count

dick: it does too, they all think i’m very brave for doing this alone

jay: for fucks sake-

——————

dick, coming home late from a date and seeing the lights on: uhh hello?

jay, sitting on a stool: and just where have you been all night young man?

dick: IM 26

——————

jason, pointing at the wayne family photos: so who do we like, and who do i hate on principle

dick:

dick: okay so this is complicated

jason: there’s only like three living people??

dick: right. so—

——————

dick, who pulled an all-nighter working on a case: good morning!

jay, who was reading jane austen and didn’t notice the sun came up: right…morning

dick:

jay:

dick: you didn’t sleep did you

jay: well clearly neither did you

dick: fair enough, coffee?

——————

jay: so this guy was shovin’ me around and-

dick: i’ll kill him

jay: …no.

dick: but-

jay: his mom’s the librarian and i can’t afford to fall out of sharon’s good graces

——————

dick: look it’s not my fault i’m so charismatic

jay: i’m not asking for a lot here

dick: you’re asking me to suppress my nature

jay: i’m asking you to stop flirting with all my teachers at parent teacher conferences

dick: c’mon it’s not that big of a deal

jay: …miss shields gave me her phone number to pass along the other day. so did mr. burnes, it’s getting outta hand dick

dick: oh i see, this is serious

dick: she’s really cute, maybe i should-

jay: STOP IT

——————

#dick actually choosing to pass the robin mantle on to jason 😭 #they’d be so cute your honor #dick grayson #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #dc

[augustinewrites]

“i sent a text,” you mutter to yourself as you push and hold the door open with your foot. “and yet nobody came down to help me with the groceries.” 

you push the door shut with your elbow, turning around to see why exactly no one had answered your text. the three of them are sat at the dining table. megumi’s staring at the table, tsumiki’s staring at a painting on the wall, and satoru's glaring at the pile of phones in front of him.

“what is going on?” you ask, setting your bags on the countertop. 

“family meeting,” satoru answers, still glaring at the phones.

“really?” you ask, pulling out your chair to join them. “last time you called a family meeting, you wanted to discuss whether or not you could pull off an earring.” 

“that was a short conversation,” megumi quips.

“hey, i’m still confident that you’re all wrong and i’d totally rock an earring,” he tells you. “but that’s not what this is about. this is about tsumiki.” 

“oh,” you say, surprised by this turn of events. “i thought megumi got in trouble at school again.”

“he did.” 

“i did.” 

figures. you’d address that later. 

“and that’s why i was at their school, where i saw tsumiki about to skip class with - get this - with her boyfriend, who none of us knew existed.”

you exhale a heavy breath. “oh…” 

but your reaction must be too mild for your fiancé, who sends you a funny look. “‘oh?’ that’s a little light. she has a boyfriend that none of us knew about!”

an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. satoru looks at megumi, who looks at tsumiki, who looks at you. 

you actively work to avoid his gaze, further incriminating yourself.

“wait…do you know something?”

“can i talk to you for a second?” you ask, nodding your head toward the kitchen. he follows you over, but not before telling the kids not to touch their phones. 

“how are we handling this?” he asks, pacing back and forth with a deeply conflicted look on his face. you don’t think you’ve even seen him look this serious about something before. “‘cause i know i’m usually the fun parent and you usually bring the heat when it comes to punishments, but i’m already there, babe! she’s grounded. phone, gone! food, maybe! and she is forbidden from seeing this boy for–  till– till she’s in college.”

“satoru–”

“i can’t believe she didn’t tell us she had a boyfriend,” he mutters, not finished yet. “who is this kid, anyway? her boyfriend?” you roll your eyes when he even gags on the word.

“okay, okay,” you laugh nervously, rubbing your hands up and down his arms. “do you promise that you’re not going to freak out if i tell you something?”

“no.”

“fair enough,” you agree. “uh…i met her boyfriend.” his eyes widen, but you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything. “hold on! she only told me a couple of days ago because they just started dating two weeks ago. she was going to tell you, i promise.”

“but she’s too young to have—”

“satoru, keeping apart kids that are in love never works out for the people keeping them apart.” you loop your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “imagine if someone had told you that you couldn’t date me.”

“yeah, i know,” he grumbles. “i guess i’m just hurt that she didn’t tell me right away. we have a connection, you know. like you and megumi. last week when we went out for our weekly ice cream gossip session, she didn’t say a thing!” 

“you guys have weekly gossip sessions?”

“uh, yeah. as if you and megumi don’t talk shit about us illiterates whenever you go to the bookstore.” 

“i think we’re getting off track,” you deflect with a huff. “what are we going to do about the situation at hand?”

_____

at the sound of a knock on the door, tsumiki bursts out of her room. “i’ll get it!”

“be cool,” you tell satoru, who scoffs as he fixes his hair.

“i’m cool. the coolest. i’m like ice.” 

“i’m serious,” you grit as tsumiki pulls the door open. “do not be weird right now.”

you smile as tsumiki introduces you both, taking the bouquet of flowers that her boyfriend offers you.

“dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself at home in the meantime,” you tell him, filling a vase with water. 

“in the living room, preferably,” gojo adds stiffly. where tsumiki shoots him a look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “we’ll be in the kitchen, you’ll have plenty of privacy.”

“the kitchen and the living room are the same room,” she mutters.

“then you can pretend that we’re not even here,” he says, tone light. then, after a moment. “but remember that we will be here. the whole time.”

“okay, you need to take all of that and put it away,” you tell him sternly, handing him a stack of plates to put on the table. “welcome to the real world, babe. this is what raising teenagers is all about.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

Part Three (Spicy Version)

DBF!Joel x Female!Reader - 18+

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (Soft Version)

Summary: Joel Miller caught you working where you shouldn't be after you promised to quit. Now he's taking matters into his own hands. Word Count 5.7k

CW: DBF!, Dom!, SoftDom!, use of nicknames (baby, sweet pea, baby girl etc.), Sub/Dom, DD/LG, use of toys and a riding crop. no use of y/n. no description of reader except for piercings. Praise, degradation. After care.

AN: THANK YOU for all your love on parts 1 and 2. This is the spicy version of the third part. I'd love to hear which part you liked best!

“Hey, buddy. It’s Joel.”

“Joel?” You can hear your dad’s muffled and panicked voice through the receiver. “Where’s my daughter? Why do you have her phone? It’s 5 am!” 

“Remember that time Sarah ran away to your house and you told me that one day I might be doing the same for you?” 

Your dad is silent for a while, a distorted higher pitched voice filters through before you hear your dad again, “It’s alright honey. She’s with Joel.” He lets out a deep sigh before adding, “I thought we skipped the rebellious phase with her.”

“She’s a good girl. I think she just needs some time to cool off.” Joel says, his voice is friendly and light.

You squeeze your thighs together and nuzzle deeper into Joel’s throat. You know what you need, and it isn’t to cool off. He and your dad have been friends since the day he moved in down the street. You were seven and Sarah was eleven, you thought she was the coolest person on the planet. Wonder what she’d think of you now, cuddled up against her dad after he just edged the fuck out of you after spanking you in an alleyway. You’re lost in your thoughts as Joel talks with your parents for a while.

A sane person would stop being so turned on right now. Fuck, I need Joel. So badly. Maybe I should rile him up some more. 

“I’ll come by this afternoon,” Joel hugs you tighter, bringing you back to the conversation. “Ya, if she wants to, I’ll bring her. She’s ok, just never seen her more - frustrated.” 

You squeeze his side, knowing he’s smirking about how frustrated and needy you truly are right now. He hangs up the phone and brings his lips to yours, kissing you harder this time. You moan into his mouth, hands roaming up his body to tangle in his hair. 

Holy shit, Joel Miller is kissing me. 

As you run your nails along his scalp he lets out a pleasurable sounding gasp and a small shiver racks his body. Oh, he likes that, he likes that very much. 

Got ya, you think to yourself. 

He pulls away to see you smiling at him. “This is why I usually tie naughty girls down,” his voice is completely different from how it was just moments ago; deeper and more commanding. It reverberates through you - right to your pussy. “Because they think they’ve found spots that will get them what they want. Let’s go home now, darlin’.” 

The front door hasn’t even closed before Joel is hoisting you over his shoulder roughly, kicking the door closed as you squeal, his calloused hands gripping the back of your thighs as your stomach rests across his broad shoulder. 

Fuck his ass looks good from this angle. 

“You know I’m not done punishing you yet, right?” He growls, toeing off his boots and taking you to the basement. 

When Sarah was old enough, she’d occasionally babysit you. You remember there being a locked room in the basement, she said she didn’t know what was in there, but you were obsessed with finding out. You asked Joel mercilessly what he was hiding back there and he never responded in more than a grunt or a sarcastic comment like “that’s where I lock up kids who don’t shut up.” 

Joel grabs a key off the holder at the bottom of the stairs and heads straight for that mysterious locked door. The key scrapes against the door knob, you crane your neck to see as he flicks on the light. 

Holy. Fucking. Shitballs. Joel Miller has a sex room. 

“Watch your mouth,” he grumbles as he drops you onto the large metal framed bed. 

Did I say that out loud? 

He stalks away from you towards a large black cabinet, rolling the sleeves of his button up flannel to his elbows. It’s almost concerning how much that simple action turns you on. Maybe you should go back to church, your mom would be so proud. 

You’re intrigued to look around, curious as to what else is around you in this large room, but everything about Joel’s presence draws you in. Freezes you in time. You belong to him, or so he implied when he said he was your Dom now. 

He slides the door of the large black cabinet open just enough to reach in. Your curiosity is bubbling to the surface and just as you’re about to ask he looks at you darkly. 

“Did you come on the drive home?”

Every bump on the drive home had you twitching. You tried your hardest not to gasp and moan but the combination of the gravel road, your insane state of heightened arousal, and the lack of underwear in your stiff denim shorts were all working against you. 

“No, Joel.” Your eyes dance around his hands, trying to see what he took out of the cabinet. 

His jaw flexes, “It’s Mr Miller. Not Joel.” His chin juts towards the corner of the room across from him as he says, “go kneel in that corner. Face the wall and don’t move.” 

You practically leap off the bed and scramble to the corner as Joel mumbles, “So fuckin’ eager,” under his breath. 

On your way to the corner you see all sorts of ropes, chains, paddles and whips hanging from the walls. There's a large wooden x with cuffs leaning against another wall and beside the corner he’s told you to go to there’s a strange looking bench, almost like a gymnastics horse, that also has cuffs. You might be way in over your head here. 

You kneel down in the corner, the carpet is soft and luxurious under your knees as you rest your bum down onto your heels. 

“No, on your knees. Hands above your head on the wall.” Joel barks, making you jump and your pussy flutter. Joel opens and closes some more doors, you hear things being moved around and just as your hands start to go numb above you, you feel his heat at your back. 

“I’m going to finish your punishment now little one,” he rasps. “Have you ever been a sub before?” 

“N-no. Mr Miller. I’m sorry,” you voice trembles. Nervous and excited energy are battling inside you for first place. 

“Don’t be sorry, babygirl. What do you say if you want me to stop?” His strong hands grip your hair, gathering it up in a low ponytail before tying a long ribbon around it. 

“Umm..” you rack your brain. Before his sadistic little countdown he told you to say something if you wanted to stop.

“Cowboy,” you finally say, slightly uncertain until he hums a sultry ‘that’s right’ behind you, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it up and over your head. 

The cool basement air hits your exposed skin and you find yourself arching your back towards Joel’s warm body. Your nipples turn to stiff peaks at the combination of the temperature shift and the anticipation of what’s coming next. 

Your hands fall back to your sides as your shirt glides past your fingertips. Without missing a beat, Joel hits right below your shoulder blade gently with a riding crop. The sound of the soft black leather end against your skin is louder than the pain, but it still burns slightly as you gasp and your arms fly back up to the wall.

“Don’t be stupid, baby. The more you don’t listen, the more I will hurt you. And you are already here because you didn’t listen.” He trails the riding crop around the pink mark forming on your back. “Stand up, but keep your hands above you.” 

You plant one white slip-on van on the carpet and drag the toe of the other as you stand, hands sliding up the red satin wallpaper that lines the room. The soft leather of the crop traces down the black strap of your lace bra, across the back band and then up the other strap. 

“Use one hand and undo the clasp, sweet pea.” You drop your right hand and bring it behind your back. Popping the metal clasp open with a shaky thumb and forefinger. Before you can put your hand back, Joel grabs your wrist and places the crop in your fist before raising it back up above you. His rough fingers graze your back, goosebumps line your skin as your head falls forward and you hum out in pleasure. 

His hands glide around to the front of your body and trail up, pushing under the cups of your bra to squeeze your tits. He stops dead as they land heavy in his palms. 

“Holy fuck, drop the crop and take this bra off right now. Let me see them,” his voice is thick with arousal at what he’s found. 

You do as he says, the crop hitting the soft carpet with a thud. You spin and let your bra fall from your arms. Showing him the golden barbells, and the thin golden hearts that surround each nipple. 

Joel practically snarls as he dives in to kiss you, his tongue parting your lips and making room for him to devour you. “Are those healed?” He asks through the kiss. 

“They’re sort of new,” you say into his mouth. “Six weeks ago.” 

“Fuuuuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hands hurry to the buttons on your shorts. He rips them down your legs, kneeling in front of you to slide off your shoes. His face is now level with your achy cunt. It’s been throbbing since he spanked you and now he’s so very close. 

He stops to stare at it, then gently uses his thumbs to pull your soaked lips again. He clicks his tongue, “too bad you didn’t listen. She looks swollen and sooo wet,” his thumb barely grazes the wet flesh before he looks up at you as he sucks off the juices. “Mmm - and sweet. But bad girls don’t get rewards.” He lays a quick slap across your clit and you nearly collapse at the sensation. 

The pain. 

The heat. 

The pleasure. 

He smirks down at you as he stands. You crane your neck to look at him, gasping for breath as the pleasure ebbs between your legs. 

“You like pain, don’t you?” He asks. 

A sly closed lip smile crosses your face as you nod quietly. You do like pain, but you’ve never had someone as experienced as Joel before. He spanked you harder than you ever have been before, pushing and testing your limits. While you enjoyed it, and can’t fucking wait to do it again, you aren’t sure if you can handle all these whips, crops, canes and ropes. 

Cowboy. Just say cowboy. 

He steps away, leaving you completely bare in the corner. He stops at the foot of the bed, the things he’s pulled out of the cabinet rest flat on top of the sheets but you can’t make out what’s there. He slides his flannel off and drops it to the floor. You swallow hard at the way his tight shirt hugs his body, you swear you can see every muscle that lines his chest and abdomen through it. He doesn’t leave you guessing for long, one hand reaching behind himself, grabbing his shirt by the nape of the neck before peeling it from his hard body. You squeeze your thighs at the sight of him. 

Joel Miller: Greek God. 

He leans against the tall post at the foot of the bed, crossing his thick arms over his chest. His biceps bulge and suddenly you find it hard to breathe. He is fucking beautiful. 

“Crawl to me, and bring the crop,” his voice is rough as he commands you. 

You get onto your hands and knees and look over at the crop and then back towards Joel, looking up through your lashes. “Think about it for a second,” he says. 

You bend down and pick the crop up with your teeth. “There’s my smart girl,” he praises as you crawl. You’re so wet that your thighs slide effortlessly against one another. You stop in front of him and he reaches down to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with an immense sense of pride, you’d do anything to have him look at you like that and when he throws in a warm ‘good girl’ you’re done for. His. His brat. His good girl. His submissive. Just his. 

He takes the crop from your teeth and then walks behind you. “Arch your back,” he presses the leather end into your lower back, guiding you, teasing you, showing you what he wants and how he wants it. 

“Spread your legs, babygirl,” he whispers, again gently pressing the crop to your inner thighs as you spread for him before he slowly drags the soft leather from your clit to your backside. You whimper at the much needed attention. “Good girl. See how much better it is when you listen.” 

You relax your head, letting it fall as you moan. Close. So very close. The leather meets your chin next. “Eyes up, I need you to stay like this for me. Ok?” 

“Yes Mr Miller,” you gasp, holding your head high, looking straight ahead at the metal bed frame that’s lined with hooks and rings. “Anything for you.” 

The riding crop trails down your neck and spine as he walks back behind you. “That right, darlin’?” He says, almost afraid to admit how much those three little words have affected him. You. Offering him anything. 

You let out an agreeable moan before he strikes you twice, each snap of the crop hitting the exactly same spot. 

Joel Miller: Greek God and Accurate Riding Crop Sniper.  

Ok, you’ll have to work on the name. 

The sting takes a bit longer to turn into that pleasurable tingly heat that you love than when he spanked you. Keeping your back arched and head up is already proving to be a challenge, and then he traces your cunt and asshole again with the leather and you’re practically shaking. Closer. Much closer. 

He does it again. Striking one cheek, then the other, quickly followed by a quick slap to the back of your thigh. You cry out in pain, until the leather slides over your soaked clit and the sounds turn downright pornographic. 

“Why am I punishing you?” He demands, tapping your clit lightly and rapidly. 

“I - mmmm - I didn’t q-quit,” you moan. 

“Wrong,” he hits you again. Five quick, sharp snaps, alternating between ass cheeks. Then he slides up and down your folds again. 

Pain

Pleasure.

Sparkling burning heat. 

“M’gonna come,” you mumble and Joel pulls away. You cry out in protest as he lowers himself to the floor, a large warm hand gently rubbing your sore cheek. 

“You come when I say,” his lips land on every spot he’s hit you, but not the spot you need him the most. “Now why am I punishing you?” 

Your mind is mush, overrun by the overwhelming need to orgasm. You didn’t quit. He wants you to and you didn’t. That’s why he’s hitting you. 

“I don’t know Mr Miller,” you whine. His hand trails up the soft skin of your inner thigh, your legs tremble under his touch and you fight against your shaking arms to keep your body how he wants it. 

“No?” He says with a smirk. “On your elbows, forehead on the floor.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you get into his new required position. 

“You should be,” he stands and walks towards the bed. Leaving your ass up and on display. “You lied and snuck out, then after your spanking tonight you stayed at work for another two hours. You also used my marks to make money. You, my sweet girl, are a brat.” He’s practically growling by the time he finishes, settling himself behind you. “That’s why I’m punishing you.” 

Deep down Joel knows he should stop. Not for the obvious reasons: best friend's daughter, twenty years younger, four years younger than his own daughter. But because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you yet about your hard and soft limits. Didn’t even ask if you wanted to be his sub. But your smooth little ass is up in the air, pussy glistening in the dim light of his sex room and nothing but your pleasure matters anymore. 

You swallow hard, “I’m sorry for being a brat, Mr Miller.” 

“I don’t think you are,” he says and you hear the distinct sound of a cap of lube opening behind you. “I think that you have enjoyed yourself so much that you’re going to be back on that corner waiting for an Uber to take you to work tonight. You want me to come after you. Because you are a little slut with a very greedy pussy.” 

Something cool presses against your soaked entrance and you cry out as he continues, “so I’ll tell you what. You can go to work tonight, but you’ll have to do it my way,” slowly that cool something slides inside of you, filling you slightly but it’s not enough. “Fuck, practically sucked it in, babygirl.” 

You can feel it, a hard ball that’s pushing right against your g spot, a slender piece staying outside your body for easy removal. “That is going to stay in until I take it out. It vibrates, and if you don’t behave…I will turn it on.” 

His large, rough hands grip you by the hips and pull you back so your ass is flush against his body, his cock stiff as nails under his jeans. “It’s time to get some sleep, sweetheart. Get in the bed, please.” 

“But…” you pout into the plush carpet. “Please, Mr Miller.” 

“What did I say? Bad girls don’t get rewarded. Come on,” he taps your hip. “Bed.” 

You stand up on shaky legs, thankful that the best is only two steps ahead of you. But the toy inside of you has you feeling like a powder keg on the edge of exploding. Joel pulls the covers back and climbs in with you, pulling you in to rest your head on his chest. His arm drapes around your body, the other resting behind his head. 

“How are you feeling after tonight?” He whispers, using an app on his phone to turn the lights off. 

“Horny,” you whisper, burying yourself deeper into his neck. 

“I know. But you know I can’t make you come, right? I can’t reward you for this behaviour.” His lips fall to your hairline, two light lingering kisses melting you further into him. 

“What can I do, Mr Miller?” The moment the last syllable of his name leaves your lips the vibrator comes to life inside of you. “Oh god - thank you. Thank you.” Your body twitches against his, your leg coming to drape across him as you subconsciously hump and grind into his hip. 

“That feel good, baby?” He asks, holding you tighter against his strong body. 

“Yes. Yes. Hnnnng, yes.” You grind harder, your arousal coating his hip and leg, your clit sliding along him with ease now. “Joel, please.” 

Shit. He should punish you for calling him Joel but you’re so goddamn beautiful as you start to fall apart and he can’t hold back any longer. He’s let other subs go days without an orgasm, he’s gotten off to them begging and crying for relief. But you. You sound so damn sweet to his ears and he can’t stand to see you like this anymore. 

He has you flipped onto your back, trapped under his weight before you can even register what’s happening. He’s kissing you deeply, tongue taking what it wants as your legs kick and shake under him. 

“Please!” You cry between kisses. 

His thick fingers sliding between your puffy folds before grabbing the end of the vibrator, you scream out as he pulls the toy from you. 

“Shhh…just a little bit more. I’m going to make it better now,” he says gently, kissing down your neck, swirling his tongue around each nipple piercing. 

“Please. Please. Pleeeaase, Mr Miller. Please. It hurts. I need it, please.” You’re a mumbling mess and the words leaving your lips are practically incomprehensible. 

“I know. Relax baby. Breathe.” He says between kisses down your sternum, his tongue tracing your curves. When he finally settles in between your thighs he swallows hard, he wants to dive right in, make you drench his face as you come. “Look at me, darlin’.” 

His warm breath hits your pussy and you fight your hips from bucking up to his face as prop yourself up on an elbow and try to focus your eyesight on him. You didn’t know it was possible to be so turned on that you practically had tequila vision. 

His voice is serious yet calm as he says, “I’m going to make you come using my fingers and my tongue. Is that ok?” 

You nod your head and a faint ‘yes’, leaves your lips. He doesn’t want to ask permission, and next time he won’t. But right now he needs to know you’re ok with this. 

“Can I lick and touch both the outside and inside of this beautiful, weeping, pussy?” 

It starts to hit you that Joel Miller would never do something you didn’t want and that sets your soul on fire. He cares. About you. Only you. Wants to do things for you. You are not a burden here. 

“Yes, Mr Miller. Please. Touch me.” The room suddenly feels twenty degrees hotter, you can feel sweat beading on your skin. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his ring and middle finger around your desperate entrance. You cry out, dropping your body to the bed. 

Pleasure. Overwhelming pleasure. 

“No no baby girl, eyes on me.” 

You somehow muster the strength to raise yourself onto shaky arms. His two strong fingers slide deep into your heat with minimal resistance and you immediately start gasping. 

Pleasure. Life altering, heart stopping pleasure. 

“Fuuuuck. Baby. So tight. Have you ever squirted before?” His cheeks are flushed with need. He might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

Your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breaths. You shake your head and moan out a ‘no’. 

He smiles down at your dripping cunt, “I can feel it. Gotta relax for me. Just breathe and let it happen.” 

Nerves flutter in your stomach and then he curls his fingers forward, putting so much pressure on a soft spongy spot that you didn’t know existed until today. On instinct, your knees try to close but his wide frame keeps you open. You yell his name to the ceiling, as all the air whooshes from your lungs. 

“Breathe baby,” he says as he curls his fingers once, twice, three more times. You can hear how wet you are and the pressure becomes unbearable. Stars start to blur your vision, the walls of your pussy squeeze tightly around his fingers and then it’s just a blur. A blur of all consuming pleasure and you turn into a boneless, mumbling mess. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Come for me. Soak me. Good girl,” Joel’s free hand pressed down on your mound as a wet heat leaks all over you. “Good fuckin’ girl. Let go for me.” 

You’re not sure if you’re screaming or not, all you hear and feel is Joel. Everything is Joel. Strong hands, deep gravel voice, warm vanilla smell. He’s everywhere and you never want it to stop. 

“Keep going. That’s it. You look so beautiful,” he says, licking a long stripe up your fluttering pussy, drinking and slurping up your juices. “Oooh yeah - gooood giiirrll”

Almost immediately after your orgasm crests it becomes too much. You’re so overstimulated that it hurts and your moans of pleasure become cries of pain. You forget your name, where you are, you even forget your safe word. But Joel knows, he always knows. 

He stops pumping his fingers and says your name, “look at me sweet pea.”

You blink slowly, you’re wrecked, barely able to keep your eyelids open, almost convinced they’ve been replaced with steel. You’re sucking in air, did you not breathe that entire time? 

“Breathe baby, you’re ok.” He says, stilling his fingers until you’re ready. 

“I’m sorry, Mr Miller. I know I called you Joel. I won’t do it again.” 

So fucking cute. “It’s ok, darlin’ girl. I want you to let loose when you come.” He places a few light kisses along your thighs. The sheets and his bare chest are soaked. “I’m gonna pull my fingers out.” 

You fall back to the bed and fist the sheets to ground yourself as he slides his fingers out. “You did such a good job,” he praises as you whimper at the loss of his fingers inside of you. 

He crawls up your body, placing his strong forearms beside your head, moving any hair that has escaped the ribbon from your face. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”

“Fuck me,” you mumble. 

He grins down at you. “That’s my little slut,” he says darkly, ripping his jeans and underwear off, kissing you hard and rough - just how you like it. His hard cock lands heavy on your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “You sure about this?” He says cockily. 

“Fuck me, Mr Miller. Please. I need your -,” he slams deep inside you, hips flush against yours. He’s so deep you swear you can feel it behind your navel. The girth of him giving you a painful but pleasurable stretch, “oh god. I’m gonna come again.” 

“Squeeze me, baby. Yell out. Show me what I do to you,” he hooks your knees in his elbows to get deeper. Hips grinding and slamming into yours. “So goddamn good. So tight. Give it to me, little one.” 

The heat in your belly snaps as you come apart for him again. Every muscle goes limp and pliant as he folds you in half, knees practically behind your head like some sort of tantric pretzel. The walls of your pussy clamp down on his dick as cry out in pained moans. Before your orgasm has even tapered off he’s slipping out of you and flipping you around. 

“Hands and knees, like you were on the floor.” He practically yells it at you, like a drill sergeant. 

You don’t have the cognitive ability to even know what your arms or legs are, lying on your belly down in the puddle you created earlier. 

“Can’t,” you moan before the sharp snap of the riding crop hits your ass. Adrenaline spikes as you start to find your arms, bringing them beside you to push up. Another three quick strikes hit your backside. “Fuck. Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He strikes you again. You most definitely do not want him to stop and you already know that he loves when you beg. “It huuuurts,” you gasp as you bring yourself up to your knees. Your all wobbly limbs, like a newborn giraffe, and panting breaths as he hits six quick strikes down your thigh. Crying out with each one, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Please just stop.” 

“You should see how your pussy clenches with each hit, my little masochist,” he praises, moving to punish the other thigh in the same way he did the other one. “You could come from this, couldn’t you?”

“No. It hurts. I’m sorry, daddy.” 

Joel stops. The word daddy suspended in the air between you. Fuck, it just slipped out. You’ve never said it to a man before and now you wish you could just crawl into a little hole and die alone. 

“Oh babygirl,” he says proudly, coming up behind you and rubbing his dick up and down your wet pussy. “Do you like that? Calling me daddy?” 

“It slipped out. I’m sorry Mr Miller,” you desperately want to bury your face in the pillows but you keep your head held high, just like he wants you too. 

“Tell daddy to fuck you,” he says, his hand grabbing the base of your tied back hair. 

“F-fuck me, daddy,” you say in the sweetest and most innocent sounding voice you can muster.

With one snap of his hips he’s fully inside of you, his hand pulls at your hair. You scalp tingling and burning, only adding to the pleasure building again in between your legs. 

“You like it rough. Don’t you, little one?” You moan out in agreement, “like it when daddy fucks you this deep. Like it when daddy is in your belly. Don’t you?” 

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” It’s like you’re a broken record, unable to come up with anything except moans, cries and ‘oh god’s’. 

Joel’s hand moves from your hair to between your shoulder blades and pushes down. A silent command for you to rest your chest on the bed. You do as he says, “good fuckin girl. You want me to fuck you while I use the crop? Is that what you want my little pain slut?” 

“Yes please, Mr Miller,” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets, muscles clenching as you prepare for what’s about to happen. 

The pace at which he’s fucking you continues. He’s fast and rough, his balls slapping against your pussy with each trust. The crop hits the bottom of one of your feet first, then just to the right of your left shoulder blade. 

“Not gonna stop until you use that safeword. Brats don’t get rewards,” He fucks up into you a few more times as he swats at the front of your thigh. 

Blinding heat and pleasure start to course through you as you come again. “My little masochist,” he says again, pulling back to slap at your ass as you come on his cock. Tears blur your vision, you want to stop but you want to make him proud. You feel his dick getting harder, twitching slightly. 

Just a few more minutes, you think to yourself. Until he strikes you harder than all the other times. The sound of leather on your skin fills your ears and you pull away from him, “COWBOY!!” 

You collapse into the sheets as Joel turns away, unable to stop his orgasm and wanting to be respectful of your need to stop. He cums into the sheets with his hand, biting back your name from leaving his lips. 

He turns to find you facedown, red and purple marks already forming. “Baby,” he whispers, his hand coming to caress your lower back. You flinch under his touch. 

Fuck, I went to hard. 

“Shhh, relax. It’s over now. Let me take care of you.” He sees you visibly melt into the mattress, and why wouldn’t you. His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers trail up and down your spine. “I’m so proud of you for using your safeword. Can you roll over for me?” 

You do as he says, using any last ounce of energy to roll over. He shuffles himself to sit on the edge of the bed, lifting your upper body to help you prop up in some pillows, your eyelids are impossibly heavy. He reaches into the small mini fridge that’s disguised as a bedside table and takes out a bottle of water. 

“I need you to drink this, honey. Then I will put some coconut oil on those marks. Ok?” 

You open your eyes as he cracks the water. He looks wrecked. Beads of sweat line his hairline, curls sticking to his forehead, but fuck is he beautiful. 

Joel Miller. Sex God. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he slides his boxers back up his leg, his still half hard cock pressing against the fabric. 

You’re suddenly unable to stop from giggling. You feel giddy and drunk as you down the water and say, “I feel fucking amazing!” 

Joel shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “Good,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. He pulls makeup wipe out from the bedside drawer and wipes the mascara that’s run down your cheeks. Then he finds himself doing something he’s never done with his other subs. He grabs the coconut oil and reaches a hand out to help you off the bed. 

“Let’s go get some sleep,” he says. Steading you and leading you up the stairs to his room. This is dangerous territory, but he needs to wake up with you. Cherish you. Care for you. Other subs always slept down here. Never in his room and rarely with him. But certainly never ever in his room. 

You follow with shaky legs and nearly collapse onto his bed when you get there. 

“Can we do that again?” You ask as he rubs oil on your tender backside. 

“Fuck yes. But before we do that,” he taps your side and you roll over so he can oil your thigh. “You need to fill out some paperwork.” 

You groan and he lets out a deep laugh. “I promise it’s fun paperwork. Hard and soft limits. Things you want to try.” 

He looks up at you with adoration, mirroring the looks you’re giving him. He nods towards your pierced nipples, “I like those. Very sexy. As soon as they’re healed we are gonna have some fun.” 

You blush, “thanks. You’re - umm, you’re actually the first person to see them.” 

“That right?” He says proudly, lying down beside you and pulling you into his chest. 

“I have an appointment at the piercer next week. Any requests?” You say teasingly as you nuzzle into his chest. Your appointment is to get a second hole in each ear lobe, but may as well have a little fun.

“Hmmm,” he hums, lips grazing your hairline with little kisses. “Belly button.” 

“Oh, I was thinking of doing my clit.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Fuck me, baby. You tryin’ to kill this old man? I’m gonna have to leave the goddamn continent while that heals.” He pulls you in tighter, pulling the blanket up around both of you. “Get some rest now, we have a big afternoon.”

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565@pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedrohub #pedro is daddy #daddy joel #joel x you #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x oc #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #dom!joel miller #soft!joel miller #dom joel miller

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie lingers by the Lite-Brite, while Robin and Nancy thunder downstairs in search of the bikes; Steve can hear the echo of their voices as they go, Robin insisting that she get, “—the coolest looking bike, Nance, that’s only fair considering your goddamn outfit nearly strangled me,” followed by Nancy’s answering laughter.

Eddie doesn’t look like he’s heard them at all. Looks like he’s in a world of his own, actually.

His fingers trail through the air, creating a path of golden shimmers. His eyes are wide, entranced, and he suddenly looks so peaceful that the sight actually threatens to choke Steve up.

Maybe it’s a small thing compared to everything else. But Steve thinks it’s monumental: how despite every horror that he’s witnessed, despite everything, Eddie’s still reaching for the light.

The thought is familiar, a reminder of how he’d felt just minutes before, hearing Dustin and Erica’s triumphant giggles—hope and affection catching in his throat.

He’d almost forgotten that all of this could be fun, too.

Eddie’s fingers keep weaving—he doubles back on himself several times, like he’s trying to draw the light into his palm. There’s no discernible pattern to his movements, no half-formed words Steve can make out—he only sees Eddie’s complete and utter contentment in doing nothing but this: just drinking the moment in.

It makes Steve think of how he used to consider the Fourth of July as a kid. Before the big fireworks show, when it felt like time had slowed, like the whole world had narrowed down to just him and a dazzling sparkler in his hand.

Steve watches on, leaning against the doorframe; he wants—suddenly, desperately—to give Eddie all the time in the world.

But he has to settle for counting out increasingly long seconds in his head. Then he suppresses a sigh, gives a gentle tap, tap along the wall.

“Eddie,” Steve says softly. Then, when Eddie still hasn’t heard, just a touch louder: “Eddie.”

Eddie startles, blinking rapidly. His eyes refocus, land on Steve—but a slightly dreamy, captivated quality remains, as if he’s still seeing an afterimage of the lights.

“Oh,” he says, sounds almost sheepish.

“Hey,” Steve says, smiling. “You doing good over there? You look like you found proof that, like, Santa’s real or something.”

Eddie chuckles under his breath, but he doesn’t reply.

His hand returns to that spot again, dipping in and out of the light like he’s sat by a creek, fingers dragging through the water.

“Y’know,” Eddie begins, so quietly. Achingly wistful. “If it was all like this… I wouldn’t mind it.”

The feeling hits, tugs on Steve’s breastbone. It doesn’t hurt.

He keeps looking at Eddie, at the flickers of gold reflected in his pupils, and he silences the part of himself that insists he shouldn’t have time for this, and just thinks it anyway.

You’re beautiful, Eddie Munson.

That’s all. Nothing else, no qualifications.

Maybe here, things can be simple. Just this once.

Eddie drops his hand. The light fades away, but he’s staring at Steve, like something else has inexplicably been lit up right in front of him.

“What?” Steve says.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, almost a whisper. “Sometimes I just. I just think. You, um—you look at me like…”

Slowly, slowly, Steve steps further into the room.

“Like what?”

Another step.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. Adds nonsensically, “Must’ve been a trick of the light.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve says.

He reaches out a hand. Feels the warmth beneath his palm.

Eddie lifts his hand, so hesitantly. He edges ever closer, until the shimmery trails from their fingertips begin to merge into one.

Until their hands intertwine.

For a moment, Eddie stands frozen, and Steve’s ready to draw back.

But then Eddie inhales. He’s not looking at the lights, not anymore.

He’s looking at me, Steve thinks.

Perhaps has been for a while.

“Yes?” Eddie murmurs, lips barely moving.

“Yes,” Steve says.

He leans in.

The kiss is a small thing, really. Warm, tentative touches—a stumble before finding each other in the dark.

Such a small thing.

But to Steve, it’s monumental.

He feels it in his chest, like a tidal wave, and as he brings a hand up to cradle the side of Eddie’s face, he thinks that the lights are somehow in his chest too, like they’re both swallowing flecks of gold until they’re glowing with it, until the beams’ll shoot out of their fingers, their toes, the ends of their hair.

And here, in this house that’s frozen in time, it somehow feels like they’re stealing more of it, precious seconds, minutes—hell, give me hours, Steve thinks euphorically, give me years—

“Steve!” calls Robin’s voice distantly, and they both jump. “Get your ass in gear or I’m gonna slash your tires.”

“Uh, have a little patience, puh-lease!” Steve returns, a role reversal from all the times she’s run late for him to pick her up.

Eddie blinks, looks as if he’s holding his breath again; his eyes flicker over Steve’s face, like he’s expecting him to pull away.

Steve doesn’t.

A tender, lovely smile spreads across Eddie’s face.

And then they’re laughing into each other’s mouths.

And laughing leads to more…

“Harrington,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling too much for it to come across as remotely serious.

“Just a little longer,” Steve says—feels like he’s back in high school, joyful and silly.

Eddie laughs breathily; Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, swallows the sound.

“If Buckley slashes your tires, you’re gonna have to, like, book it alongside us.”

“Or we could share a bike.”

A disbelieving, fond chuckle. “Steve.”

Eddie breaks away only to lean back in and kiss Steve’s cheek instead—and for some reason that’s the thing to make Steve’s breathing truly catch.

They’re still holding hands; he rediscovers that fact when Eddie grins slyly and pulls him to the door.

“Let’s go.”

“All right, all right, jeez.”

The room is left in darkness, but they’re laughing as they race each other downstairs—and though the shimmers have dissolved, they’re still leaving light in their wake, wherever they go next.

#missing moments we meet again ❤️ #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about reader falling asleep on jamie’s shoulder after a late away game (maybe they come along to games on the bus) and realizing how much he loves them

Thanks for requesting! This one is a lot shorter, but I hope it’s what you’re looking for <3

silent sleepers

Rebecca lets you come to games on the team bus. Well, you say she lets you, it’s really the team’s choice. She’s just the one who signs off on it. You go for Jamie, who gives you the window seat and holds your hand the whole way there and back, joking with the lads. You don’t talk a whole lot, but you don’t really mind. Sometimes Colin or Isaac will turn around from the seat in front of you and you’ll spend an hour chatting and laughing about whatever, but for the most part you just look out the window and think.

Life is busy, so you don’t often get time to sit without having to talk. It’s nice to be here on this smelly bus, holding Jamie’s hand because you’re both relaxed. 

A voice breaks through your reverie. “Good morning, Mrs. Tartt.”

You look away from the window to see a grinning Dani turned around in his seat in front of you.

You smile. “I’m not his wife, Dani.”

“Not yet anyway, eh?” Still grinning, he pokes Jamie who gives him a cut it out motion where you can’t see. 

You don’t notice and laugh, blushing a little. You’ve only kind of talked about the future with Jamie, and you don’t really think he’s the type to settle down like that. It’s ok, you’ll take him however you can get him. You settle into your seat, ready for an hour of comparing hair products with Dani.

—

The game went well, and you’re all piled into the bus. Everyone is excited, but so, so tired. The chatter has turned to a dull murmur as you hug Jamie’s arm, watching the lights go by out the window. He’s warm and you can feel him breathe, and pretty soon you’re passed out, asleep on his shoulder.

Jamie, on the other hand, is sitting very, very still. He doesn’t want to wake you, especially because you don’t usually sleep very well. He presses a light kiss on the top of your head and you twitch, so he pulls away. He looks at you, with your eyes closed and mouth parted, muscles relaxed after being constantly tensed. Hair slightly tousled. He could sit here like this forever. 

He thinks about Dani’s teasing words earlier. Mrs. Tartt. He turns the words over in his head. Mr. and Mrs. Tartt. The Tartts. He likes how that sounds. 

God, he sounds like a fucking middle school boy, writing your name over and over in the notebook in his mind, hearts in the margins.

In all honesty, you were one of the best things that happened to him. He’s not sure how he pulled you in the same way you’re not sure how you pulled him, but he supposes it’s good that you think you’re mutually out of each other’s league. It’s a little bit sweet. 

You had some initial awkwardness about him being a famous footballer, but you worked through it. Hell, you two worked through everything. You refused to back down from a disagreement, with the mantra it’s not you against me, it’s you and me against the problem. 

You were also funny. He swore you two were the funniest people on earth once you got going. He felt like you two could do everything together. He wanted to do everything together. A thought flashes through his brain. Our kids will be fuckin’ adorable. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that his brain said will instead of could.

You let out a little sigh, bringing him back to reality.

Dani peeps over and winks at Jamie. 

“Ey, muchacho, good game today, no?”

“Yeah, yeah, good, yeah,” Jamie whispers. “Hey, Dani.”

Dani cocks his head to say what?

“Mate. You gotta play it cool, man.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Dani asks innocently. “I always play my coolest. I think it was pretty evident in the goal I scored today.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about on way over here when you made that fucking Mrs. Tartt joke.”

Dani places a hand over his heart. “You mean to tell me you do not want her to be Mrs. Tartt and I have made things uncomfortable for you? Oh no, I feel awful.”

Jamie would sock him in the arm if you didn’t have a death grip on him in your sleep. He levels Dani with a stare. “You know exactly what I’m talking about muchacho. You know how hard she is to surprise and if you ruin it, I’m sending Isaac after your hair.”

Dani gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Fuckin’ try me,” Jamie grins. 

Dani grins back and turns back around in his seat. Jamie looks down at you one last time and uses his other hand to reach into his left pocket. The little black box he carries everywhere is safe inside. He breathes out a sigh and rests his head on top of yours. 

Mrs. Tartt. Yeah, it’s going to happen.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[asapjens]

FANGIRLING

PJO: perseus jackson x fangirl!reader

CATEGORY: flufff & kinda cringey

SYNOPSIS: percy and his girlfriend being fangirls

WARNINGS: mentions of taylor swift, twilight, one direction , fangirling, fandoms, annabeth and grover. soooo i pretty much wrote a percy jackson x me one shot.

WORD COUNT: 297

You, yes YOU, are dating the heartthrob Percy Jackson. And guess what? You're a total fangirl for all type of things girly. Like, you're the ultimate Swiftie, 1D superfan, rom-com enthusiast, and Twilight saga devotee. And you're not shy about it – you talk about it all. the. time.

At first, Percy was like, "Whoa, my girlfriend is like, really into this stuff." But you know what? He thinks it's the cutest thing ever.

Seeing you light up and gush about your fandoms? It's like watching a kid in a candy store. Percy can’t help but be charmed by your excitement, and honestly, who wouldn’t be?

So, here's the thing.

Percy starts getting into all the things you love. At first, it's just to bond with you, but soon enough, he's singing along to Taylor Swift songs, discussing Team Edward vs. Team Jacob (he's totally Team Edward, by the way), and obsessing over One Direction's reunion rumors. And get this – he starts gossiping about it with his demigod pals.

One day, Percy’s chatting with Annabeth, and Grover, and he's all like, "Guys, did you hear about Taylor's latest album announcement? I totally can’t wait!"

And they're like, "Dude, you sound just like y/n." And Percy’s all, "Heck yeah, I do. Isn’t she the coolest?" His friends are low-key shook, but you know what? Percy couldn’t care less. He's head over heels for you and your hyper fixations.

And the best part? You and Percy are now the ultimate power couple. You chat, laugh, and fangirl/fanboy together, and honestly, it’s the kind of relationship goals that make even Aphrodite jealous. You and Percy – the hero and the fangirl – taking on the world.

So yeah, that's how Percy became the ultimate fangirl boyfriend. Who knew demigods could be so into mainstream stuff, right? But hey, love knows no bounds, not even when it comes to fangirling.

#percy jackson #percy #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson pjo #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson headcanon #percy series #percy pjo #pjo #percy and grover #annabeth chase x reader #percy jackson icons #percy and annabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #perseus jackson x reader #perseus jackson #taylor swift #one direction #twilight #taylor swift x reader #logan lerman x reader #logan lerman #kpop x reader #percy jackson and the lightning thief

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a real-life event i was recently reminded of

Life can be so goddamn weird.

That’s Eddie’s opinion anyway.

Like, in 1986 he was a nonconformist metalhead wanted for murder. In 2013, nearly thirty years later, he’s actually kind of excited about a Disney princess movie release.

Again, weird.

The movie is Frozen – people have lost their effing minds over it, or so it seems – and the reason Eddie’s actually kind of excited about it is because he and Steve have three daughters and the last time Disney put out a princess movie, they’d all had a total blast going to see it in the movie theater.

Eddie has high hopes for this one (at a minimum he’s hoping it puts a stop to the endless loop of Tangled’s “I See the Light”, which isn’t a bad song at all, but even the best of songs become hard to hear after the ninety-ninth play).

About a week after the movie came out, he’s watching TV with his youngest daughter, Hazel, when the trailer for Frozen plays during a commercial break.

“You gearing up to go see Frozen, Hazy-Jay?” he asks her.

To which Hazel scrunches up her nose and responds, “No, that’s for babies.”

And Eddie could have died right there in the middle of the living room, because last time he checked Hazel was a baby still. She’s seven! In what world is seven too old to see a Disney movie?

“This is entirely your fault,” Eddie later tells Steve, “You’re the one who said they’re allowed to grow up or whatever.”

“They are,” Steve points out, “You know – she doesn’t actually think Frozen is for babies. It’s just because Moe’s on that whole Disney’s not cool anymore thing, and Hazel thinks she’s the coolest person on the planet, so…”

It’s true that Moe, who’s twelve now, has been on a kick of disavowing all of her little-kid interests ever since she started middle-school. Some of it Eddie hasn’t even minded (in his opinion the less Disney Channel he has to listen to, the better). What he won’t stand for is when it leeches onto her little sisters years before they’re supposed to start outgrowing that stuff.

“So it’s Moe’s fault,” Eddie finishes.

“You know that’s not what I said.”

#eddie drags everyone to the theater and moe puts on a whole show acting miserable about it #and then in 2019 moe sees frozen 2 and sobs the entire time #life is weird #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

[cheriladycl01]

Our European Yacht Holiday - Kimi Raikkonen x SpanishOlympicDiver! Reader

Plot: It's summer and Kimi finally is in his off season and you've just competed in the summer Olympics getting a gold medal, what better way to prepare for the next by going around Europe on holiday!

Credit to kimimraikkonen7 for the GIF

"Okay, are you doing this with me yes or no?" you ask Kimi whose to your left. You were currently on your husbands private yacht, in the off season of Formula one, you'd decided to sail round Europe. Right now you were currently in the seas of the coast of Monaco.

It was you, Kimi, Sebastian Vettel his wife Hannah and their three kids who you and Kimi were god parents too.

"No!" he exclaims looking over the edge of the boat. You shake your head with a laugh.

"Come on, your such a wuss!" you exclaim looking towards him. You were both currently at the roof of the boat. You'd been diving off all afternoon, practicing of course and Kimi had come up saying he wanted to jump off too.

"I am not!" he tells you.

"Come on, you drove cars at 200mph and now your saying you cant dive off the boat with me?" you ask him, you pull on your swimsuit strap to make sure it was fully up over you shoulder.

"It's so high, and it's really really deep here!" he says looking around. In actuality it wasn't that deep, you'd swam here many times and you'd also gone scuba diving and free diving as part of training to keep fit.

"Okay, well I'm going to jump!" you scream before diving into the deep water. You hold your breath just as your body goes into the water hands first soon followed by your head. The rush you felt from your body when you went diving was the whole reason you got into it in the first place.

It's the reason why most athletes love their job, that adrenaline you get when performing.

You resurface padding around by the edge of the boat.

"Y/N! Y/N! I want to jump in!" one of Seb's children says coming up to you. You smile and swim up to them.

"Yeah, is your dad okay with it?" you ask clinging onto the rope that dangled of the back of the boat while you were docked up.

"Daddy, can I jump in with Y/N?" they shout back to Seb whose laying on the upper deck on one of the sofa's with Hanna.

"Have you got your arm bands on?" he asks leaning over the edge, you wave up to him and he nods knowing you'd keep them safe.

"Yeah!"

"Then you can, but you listen to Y/N at all times okay?" he says before laying back down.

"You know, i want to be just like you!" he says, smiling at you. You grin back and wait for him to jump in but he looks a little scared.

"I'll catch you, you trust me right?" you ask and look at the little boy above you. He nods and gulps down the anxiety, he walks back a little before running and jumping into the water right into your arms.

You were an exceptionally strong swimmer due to all the diving you do so holding the little boy up while treading water was no issue.

"Did that look cool?" he asks in delight rubbing the salty water out of his eyes.

"The coolest! I'll teach you how to dive soon!" you grin, and you both swim about a little bit more. You show him how to snorkel using the little mask Hanna had brought and how he had to keep his head at a certain angle so that no water got in the tube. Eventually you hauled him up onto the back of the boat before climbing back on yourself.

Your husband was stood there holding a towel out for you knowing it was slightly cooler now the sun was setting. He placed a light kiss on the top of your head, waiting for Sebastian and Hanna to leave with their son up to the top deck.

"You are really good with kids, we should think about having one!" he says to you suddenly making your head turn to him.

"Yeah?" you ask with a little smirk on your face.

"I think you'd be able to teach them so much!" he smiles genuinely pulling you into a hug and another kiss.

"Come on, we better doc the boat, I'm starving!" you say, giving him once last kiss before running off and hoping down the stairs to shower and change into a nice evening dress.

Later that night, you all went out for a meal in one of Monaco's finest, and being such a small city you bumped into some of the other drivers who couldn't help but ask how you were.

You were sad to see Seb, Hanna and the kids leave but now you and Kimi could sail away to Greece, the next destination for your little holiday away.

y/user

Liked by kimimatiasraikkonen and others

y/user: Sailing across Europe, getting ready for Paris 2024 with the best people ever! <3

Tagged: kimimatiasraikkonen sebastianvettel hannaprater

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kimimatiasraikkonen: Are you proud i jumped in the end?

-> y/user: yes it took lots of convincing though! <3

-> landoswife: no because we need the story behind this

-> vettelredbullera: no for real, was she trying to get him to dive?

Your Instagram Story Caption:

He wouldn’t dive from the boat with me :(

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen imagine #kimi raikkonen one shot #kimi räikkönen x reader

[cevansbrat0007]

Moments Shared

Summary: You and Ari share a moment during a lazy afternoon...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Fluff & Schmoop, Light Smut, Secrets, Discussions of Imaginary Friends, Brief Mention of Pyromania, Light Fingering, Ass Slapping, Mentions of Spanking, Mentions of Restraints, Love Songs, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread but not beta'd. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

“Bird?”

“Mm?” You look up from your place sprawled across Ari’s chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat having almost lulled you to sleep after yet another lazy bout of lovemaking. 

The perfect activity for a quiet Sunday afternoon.

“Tell me something.” The easy rasp of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it. “About you.” He absentmindedly runs his knuckles up and down your arms, marveling at the trail of goosebumps he leaves behind in his wake. 

“Um, what do you wanna know?” You press a soft kiss against his pec, the soft hairs adorning his skin tickling your nose. 

The bounty hunter takes a moment to think. “Anything.” He finally responds, as if he had weighed his options and decided he was better off not pressing his luck. So he’d settled on accepting whatever it was you deigned to share with him. And he’d be damned grateful for it. “Whatever you wanna tell me.”

“I guess I’m just not sure don’t what to say.” Of their own accord, he wraps one of your curls around a thick finger, tugging playfully. 

“Okay then, how ‘bout I start?”

“...Alright.” You roll onto your side, propping your chin up with your hand. “Take away then, Levinson. Or do you need me to do a drum roll so – eep!” You let out a squeal when he swats at your hip. 

“Mind the sass, woman.” Ari grunts, although the teasing quirk of his lips makes it known that he’s only joking. 

“Such a Beast.” You stick out your tongue at him, earning yourself another swat from your man. 

“And don’t you forget it.” He reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours, stroking the pad of his thumb across your palm. “Now, stop trying to make me lose focus while I think of a secret to share.”  

“Oh...we’re telling secrets now, are we?” Well, that certainly upped the stakes a bit. 

“Of course.” Ari presses a swift kiss to your clasped hands. “Nothing too heavy, baby. Just our deepest and darkest.” He winks then, chuckling when you try to pull away. “Hey–I was kidding. C’mere and settle down.”

“Fine.” You blow out a breath as you shift under the blankets. “Let’s hear it then. And you’d better wow me.” You affectionately boop his nose. “I won’t be held responsible for your self-esteem if you bore me to sleep.”

Your bounty hunter sighs before tucking an arm behind his head. He’s quiet for a moment as he mulls over his words. But you don’t make any move to antagonize him further. If he was in the mood to share then who were you to stop him?

“I…had a dog named Bacon growing up.” He muses before clearing his throat. “It, uh, kinda looked like a cross between a Bernese Mountain Dog and Beethoven.”

“The composer or St. Bernard?” You tease, lightly poking him the ribs.

“St. Bernard. Forgot the name ‘til just now.” 

“Well, that must have been interesting. Never heard of that mix before.” You tell him truthfully, suddenly confused when you feel him tense beneath you. 

“He was three hundred pounds with a white lightning bolt that streaked across his left hip.” 

Now, that part of his admission gives you serious pause. You pull back, cocking your head to the side as you wait for him to continue. 

“Sometimes he talked. Fella had the coolest British accent.” Ari stares up at the ceiling, his eyes glazing over as he watches the fan overhead go round and round. “Although he didn’t eat much considering his size.”

“Ari…” What in the ever loving canine capers was he talking about?

“It’s funny…” He chuckles, his big body vibrating with mirth. “Because his favorite foods were chocolate cake, brussel sprouts, and green peas. Now, I love the first one but can’t rightfully stand the other two. And I know they say about dogs and chocolate…”

“...Makes them sick.” You mumble, wondering where he was headed with this bizarre fever dream of a recollection.

“But Bacon loved it.” He continues, almost as if you hadn’t spoken. “He and I went on so many amazing adventures. Best imaginary dog a boy could ever have.”

“I’m sorry.” You wheeze as you let out the puff of air you’d been holding without realizing it. “What?”

“He wasn’t real, Bird. But he was the closest thing I ever got to an imaginary friend. Or a pet for that matter.” Ari flashes you a toothy grin. “Ma didn’t mind too much because it meant I stopped pestering her about adopting every stray mutt we saw wandering down the side of the road.”

“But you said…wait…” You felt like you were about to short circuit. 

“Baby.” Your man’s face is serious as he leans over to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing the apple of your cheek. “Dogs don’t talk. I mean, not with words anyway. And definitely not with British accents. Be sure to make that note when you’re writing about this in your diary tonight.” 

“Oh, screw you!” A laugh bursts from his chest when you push him away. The smug bastard clearly thought he was funny. “For your information, I thought you might’ve suffered some kind psychotic break. Asshole.” Balling up your fist, you land a solid blow to his kidney. 

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Ari coos once his laughter finally fades. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Me, my Ma, and my two sisters. Never stayed in one place for too long. Things tended to get pretty lonely at times, so I made up Bacon to cope.”

His voice dips as he moves closer so that he can rest his forehead against yours. “I haven’t spoken to anyone about my buddy, B, in damn near twenty years, save for you. Is that okay?”

And just like that you can practically feel your heart melting. 

You swallow thickly as you break away, giving yourself time to respond. “It is. Thank you for sharing with me.” Ari gives you a cursory nod which also signals that it’s now your turn. Great.

“I…might’ve been a bit of a firebug growing up.” A shiver courses through you, which is odd considering the fact that you’re not the least bit cold. “Something about the way the flames danced and all that.”

“Is that right?” His tone lets you know that he’s intrigued. 

“Yep.” The word flops out of your mouth. “God, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this. You might arrest me.” You cover your face with your hands before peeking at him from between your fingers. “Can I please have a minute to google the statute of limitations for the State of Texas?”

The lawman’s unexpected snort has you giggling. “From here on out, anything you share with me while I’ve got you naked in my bed will be considered off the record.”

“Okay, well – wait.” You cast him a suspicious glance, your face still partially obscured. “You promise?”

Grinning, Ari surprises you by holding up his hand and offering you his pinky finger. “I have a five-year-old niece who assures me these kinds of agreements are legally binding.”

“Alright.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you find yourself reaching out to wrap your corresponding digit around his. “But just to be safe, let me see you cross your heart.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gives a rueful shake of his head before complying. “But I draw the line at sticking a needle in my eye.” 

“Duly noted.” Needing to stretch your languid muscles, you decide to take a second to arch your back, revealing bare breasts to Ari’s gaze. And while he doesn’t say anything, you can’t help but notice how his wandering fingers appear all too eager to pull it down even further until it’s draped across your hips. 

“I’m still listening.” Ari assures you even as his pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Just didn’t want you to overheat.” 

“How thoughtful of you.” You respond, rolling your eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t appear to notice since he’s too busy tracing abstract designs along your pouting nipples. “Shall I continue?”

“Please do.” He rasps as his pupils dilate with desire.

“As I was saying, I used to be a bit of a firebug. And I…” You’re forced to bat his hands away so that you can attempt to concentrate on your story. “Well, one time a couple of us kids got our hands on some industrial grade firecrackers. The “good shit” as they say. This boy - Curtis – he bought ‘em from his cousin, Rudy. He claimed they fell off a truck on its way to Dallas.”

“Curtis. Rudy. Dallas. Got it.” A stubborn Ari goes back to toying with your breast. “Feel free to keep going.”

“I mean it, Ari. These weren’t just any ordinary firecrackers we’re talking about.” Your eyes go big as the memory overtakes you. “These were special. The name on the box read The Devil’s Anus.” 

Ari whistles low, the unusually graphic name briefly jolting him out of his reverie. “Well, that certainly paints an image.”

“Uh huh. I can still see that box like it happened yesterday. And for all the trouble it caused, it definitely was a product of Satan. Anyway, me and some of the neighborhood kids thought it would be a good idea to sneak out in the middle of night to set ‘em off. So we rode our bikes to this field on the outskirts of town to put on a little show. Mind you, this was right after the Fourth of July.”

“Mmhm.” Now his fingers have moved to fiddle with the edge of the sheet. Knowing him, he was probably seconds from kicking it off the bed. He didn’t like keeping your naked body hidden for too long. 

“Ari, would you quit it?” Again you try to fend him off, and again it does almost nothing. “Anyway, I always carried matches with me for moments like that. And so we start lettin’ ‘em fly one by one. And it was flippin’ awesome, you hear me? But they were also really, really loud too.”

“Suppose I’ll have to take your word for it, my little pyro.” 

“Well, none of us had really accounted for the noise. And not only that, but those things shoot far. One went rogue and we ended up losing sight of it behind this abandoned barn across the clearing and…” A loaded sigh escapes your lips. “The next thing we knew, the whole thing went up in flames.”

“Holy shit.” Ari blinks, now fully invested in your tale one more. “What’d you do?”

“It all happened so fast. We turned tail and raced back to town. Peddled our bikes home as fast as we could, ducking in the bushes whenever the police or the fire department whizzed by. God, I was terrified. I mean, thankfully they were able to extinguish the fire before it did too much damage but…” You trail off, allowing your bounty hunter to fill in the blanks for himself.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that the perpetrators were never apprehended?” Ari quirks one tawny brow as he watches your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip.

“Correct. And I prayed every night for three months straight, hoping against hope that it would stay that way. God did his part and in exchange for His grace, I never touched another match ever again. To this day, I even get nervous lighting the occasional candle.”

Finished, you give into the temptation to bury your face in his chest while you wait for him to say something – anything – about your revelation. You’d never told a soul about what happened that night. You and your little crew had sworn to go to your graves with the knowledge you’d almost started what could’ve easily turned into a pretty devastating fire. 

People went to jail for that shit.

“Say something already.” You eventually whine, hating the sound of silence the longer it lasts. “Please, Beast.”

“It’s just…” You feel a hand come to rest on your lower back. “After all this time, it’s just wild to know I’ve been sleeping with a fugitive from justice.”

Your head snaps up as you watch him snicker, your eyes narrowing into menacing slits. “You had better not breathe a word of this to anyone or I will end you.” You grip his face, squishing it between your fingers. “Just because we’re a couple hundred miles out from the ocean doesn’t mean you won’t find yourself at the bottom of it. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal.” He confirms through pursed lips. 

“Thank you.” Comes your demure reply, which has you sounding every inch the southern belle. And then you release him, all the while struggling not to react at the way he dramatically wiggles his jaw. 

“Never been more turned on in my life.” Ari growls as he palms his growing erection through the thin sheet. “I’m not usually the type to get my rocks off at the threat of bodily harm but…I just might have to let you tie me up one of these days.”

Immediately your eyes light up at the prospect of your bounty hunter finally letting you be in charge. Your gaze flits towards the direction of his pants, wondering if he maybe had his cuffs stuffed in one of his back pockets. 

You knew without a doubt that you could have a lot of fun with those shiny metal restraints he seemed to cherish so much.

“That was a maybe.” The man at your side is quick to amend. “So don’t you go getting any ideas just yet.” His imperious tone has you pouting before he’s even finished his sentence. 

“Hmph.” You cross your arms over your chest, purposely pushing up your breasts. “Then I guess I’m done sharing.”

“Aww, c’mon now, Duchess. Don’t go cold on me.” Ari nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, his freshly trimmed beard tickling the skin along your pulse point.

“Nope. I’m done and – ooh!” You cry out when he repositions himself so that he can pull one of your nipples into his mouth, his warm tongue expertly swirling over the pebbled tip. He sucks hard, moaning against your flesh. 

“But I’ve still got lots more secrets to tell.” He purrs, his hand creeping between your bodies in search of something a little more…delicate. His favorite part of you that he claimed was always so soft and sweet. 

“Well, I suppose that’s just t–too bad.” You croak out when his skilled fingers make contact with your slippery folds, causing your hips to arch. “I’m not interested.”

“Liar.” Ari teases, shifting his big body so that he can focus on your sensitive clit. “I’ve never let a woman tie me up before. So maybe give me a little time to warm up to the prospect of restraints. It might even help if you let me do the honors first, hm?”

“Then go get them.” You hiss, nipping at his jaw. 

“When I’m good and damned ready.” He snarls back before slanting his mouth over yours, his tongue sweeping its way past your lips to duel with your own. “Fucking brat.” Ari takes his time exploring every inch, every corner. And when he feels your body go lax in submission, he knows he finally has you exactly where he wants you. 

Or so he thinks anyway.

“So what if I am?” You cup his face with your hands, drawing him even closer so that he’s on top of you. Not wanting to be without him for even a second longer. “You like it.” You allow your teeth to graze over his plump bottom lip. Once. Twice. Sucking it into your mouth before releasing it with a slight pop.     

“Maybe I do.” This time his growl rumbles deep in his chest. “But if I ever hear about you playing with firecrackers again, I promise to light your ass up somethin’ pretty.”

“You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Of its own accord, your hand comes down on Ari’s muscled butt with a resounding smack.

“Did you just…spank me?” He asks, surprise evident in his tone.

Oops.

“I did. And I’ll even let you in on a little secret while I’m at it.” You confirm without even a hint of remorse as you reach out to stroke the pads of your fingers along the veined edge of his impressive cock, loving the way he responds to your touch. “I’m probably gonna do it again.”

You offer him an impish grin, which he eagerly returns. “Try it and I’ll see to it that my handprint is permanently tattooed on that sexy ass of yours.”

“But what if I’m still a little tender from earlier?” You try, delighting in the way your gruff bounty hunter switches from faux indignation to genuine concern in less than a heartbeat.    

“Are you?” His nostrils flare as he waits for your answer while his big hands skim their way down your body, checking you over. Looking for any sign that you might need more time before going another round. 

“Not really.” You tell him as you guide him back down to your weeping pussy. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’d do. See if you’d be okay with taking it easy if that’s what I needed from you.” Your gaze locks with his at that moment, your eyes searching his cerulean depths for any sign of irritation or annoyance – of which you find none. 

“You wanna know a secret, my fierce little Bird?” Ari murmurs, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear. “Let me know when you’re ready.” You shudder when you feel his sharp teeth gently nibble your delicate lobe. 

“I’m ready.” You respond, sounding more than a little breathless. But even so, your hands find their way to the globes of his ass once again, squeezing in warning. 

“I can’t wait for the day when I finally see you wearing nothing but my cuffs. And then I’ll show you just how good it can feel to give yourself to me. But I can sense that we’re not quite there yet, you and I, so – hush and let me finish please.” He pins you with a knowing look when you open your mouth to interrupt. It falls shut without a word. And then Ari moves to straddle your waist before pinning your arms above your head.

“So we’re gonna give it a little more time. Time for me to prove to you that I’m the man you need every day of the goddamned week.” He leans down to capture your lips in a brief, but meaningful kiss. Leaving you stunned.

“But that’s not my secret. At least not really. The real secret is that ever since I laid eyes on you, I've spent almost every damn day whistling love songs like an idiot. Now, I’m gonna be honest. I hated it at first. Because in my experience, it’s kinda difficult to feel like you’re the biggest, baddest motherfucker walking around on two legs if you’re too busy humming "Just My Imagination" under your breath to remember to glare when it's appropriate.”

“I’m so sorry. But for what it’s worth…” You shimmy in his hold, loving the hungry look that swiftly flits across his handsome features. “Assuming that I’m allowed to speak now, that is.”

“Be my guest, brat.” 

“For what it’s worth…I might have a whole playlist dedicated to your overbearing ass.” You feel your cheeks heat. But you’re not embarrassed by your admission. If Ari could be vulnerable, then perhaps you could too. “One that I may or may not listen to on my way to and from the shop every day.”

Ari swallows the lump in throat, his entire body momentarily overcome with emotion. You really have no idea how happy you just made him.

“You still thinking about flying away on me, Bird?” He asks, shifting his grip on your wrists so that grab a hold of your chin.

“Falling for you is more like it.” Your spoken secret comes out barely above a whisper. “But don’t let that go to your head or anything.” 

Because you still weren’t quite sure if you were prepared to survive the landing. Only time would tell.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” He smiles down at you, his eyes brimming with affection. “But…if you ever feel yourself falling too fast…can you at least promise to let me catch you?”

A beat goes by before you hold up your pinky finger, which he readily locks with his own. It makes your heart melt all over again. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Beast.”

Famous last words. If only you’d known what Fate had in store for you, then perhaps you would’ve made a promise that was easier to keep. Because you’d never been the type to gamble on anything or anyone. Not men. Not love. Because you’d already learned the hard way that that kind of shit was never a sure thing. But heartbreak…

Now that one always seemed to be waiting for you just around the corner no matter where you looked. And deep down, you were convinced that it was only a matter of time before it found you again.  

 END   

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#cevansbrat0007 Sweet Renegade Series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson girlfriend!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x poc!reader

[hellenhighwater]

So let me see if I have this right: you are a single, learned woman, who keeps both cats and birds and communicates with them far better than most. You have quite the garden and make your own food quite a bit, and are uninterested in romantic endeavors. You are occasionally solitary, but the company you keep engages in similar bouts of strangeness. Your house grows foreign and foreboding in the darkness, though in light it appears quite mundane.

Ma'am, I think you might be a witch. Also, you are, like, one of the coolest people I know of.

Were it not for the bottomless and abiding scepticism rooted artery-deep in me, I'd be cooking up spells on the regular. But there's enough magic in the everyday for me, when I go looking for it.

As it stands, what I want is to be weird, authentically. I'd never call myself a witch because I don't have the belief to back it up, but I do believe in living with intention. Not as an aesthetic, although I think that beauty is in many respects as important as functionality. I don't want a plastic halloween cauldron with fake bubbling brew, I want a good cast iron dutch oven and black chili peppers from the garden. I want that feeling of being eight and mashing wild mulberries into a potion to happen every time I reach for the herbs in their mismatched glass jars in the cupboard. There's a heap of crystals on the top of my apothecary cabinet because I use them as paperweights for the heavy rag paper that's been stored rolled-up too long. If I have a familiar or two, it's only because I work consciously on building good communication with my four-legged roommates. And if the portrait in the drawing room seems to always follow you with his eyes...well, that's just my great-grandfather H.B. Wolf, who was always a little eccentric.

And yes, okay, I'd like the neighborhood kids to be a little scared to approach come Halloween night.

#i once walked into a college class on a wednesday morning and had a classmate greet me with #'Ah; there's our lady of perpetual darkness.' #and that's just the vibe i'd like forever thank you very much #addams family goth #morbid and strange and unapologetically thrilled about it #to call myself a witch seems disrespectful to those who practice with belief and intent behind it #which I...don't really have #intent yes but belief no

[boldlyvoid]

prompt: reader (or another character) taking care of spencer during a depressive episode

Home is where ever I'm with you

tw: depressive episode, Spencer going non-verbal/one-worded when he needs to speak, mentions of spencers anxiety/depression, his past trauma with maeve, case talk, food mention

wc: 1.8k

Morgan drives him home and walks him up the stairs to his apartment, “can I have your keys?” He asks, reid just nods and hands them to him. 

He unlocks Spencer’s apartment and turns on the lights, waking up Spencer’s girlfriend who’s sleeping on the couch. “Hey…” she rubs her eyes, thinking it’s just Spencer. He didn’t know she was over, she came over when he said he was on his way home, and she failed to wait up for him. 

“Hi?” Derek answers, “who are you?” 

“I’m—

“Y/N,” Spencer finally speaks, he’s been nonverbal since the case ended. It was a bad case. He got a little hurt. All he wanted was to see her and it’s like she knew that. 

“Oh,” Derek knows this is the person Spencer’s been talking to for a while now, he remembers all the times he caught Spencer staring at his phone with a smile. This was his new love. 

He drops his bag on the ground and rushes over to her, burying his face in her neck and holding her impossibly close. She wraps her arms around him, “I’m here, I’ve got you, baby.” 

“Thank you,” Derek shoots her a smile, backing up towards the door. “Have him text me later when he’s feeling better?” 

“Will do, thank you, Derek,” she shoots him a smile, knowing him from all Spencers stories. She gives him a little wave as he closes the apartment door, and then they’re alone. “Do you want to eat, have a shower or go to bed?” 

“Shower,” he whispers, pulling back he looks at her with such sad eyes. “I’m tired.” 

“So we’ll get in the bath,” she whispers, cupping his face in her hands. “I’ve got you.” 

She gets him into the bathroom, helps him strip down and she puts a towel over the closed toilet seat. He takes a seat while she runs the bath water, he has the coolest bathtub. His apartment is so old yet a lot of it is newly renovated, his tub is one of those old claw-foot tubs, it’s pretty big and they’ve fit in it together before. 

She reaches into the cupboard under his sink and gets the pail she uses to wash his hair when he’s sitting down in the tub. This isn’t the first time she’s done this, it won’t be the last either. The first time she had to take care of him, he felt so awful, he felt like a kid… but from what she’s heard about his childhood, even as a kid, he didn’t have someone to take care of him like this. 

She helps him into the tub, she sits on a little stool outside the tub for a moment and then he looks at her with pleading eyes, he wants her to get in too. So she carefully strips and gets into the water right behind him, letting him rest against her chest. She has a washcloth and she covers it in soap, she runs it along his chest and his shoulders, washing the case off him. She kisses his head and right behind his ear, “You can talk to me whenever you’re ready…” 

He hums, he knows. He’s just unable to get any words out yet. That’s completely okay. It must’ve been really bad. The last time that this happened, he had to kill someone. That’s the worst part about the job. He hates it. He firmly believes that no matter what someone did, they don’t deserve to die. People can be rehabilitated, they may not be able to change, but you can learn more from a killer when they’re alive than when they’re dead. More people get saved with their prison interviews. 

“Scoot forward,” she requests and he does. She gets the pail and fills it with water, “tilt your head back for me?” 

He listens again, letting her run the water over his hair so she could wash it for him. He reaches out for the shampoo and hands it back to her, she lathers it up in her hands and starts to run it through his hair. It lathers up… fine but his hair was greasy, she knows if she washes it out and does it again, it’ll actually work this time. So she rinses it out, reapplies the shampoo and watches it bubble up a lot more. He leans his head back even more, clearly enjoying the way she’s managing his scalp. She keeps going just so he can feel some semblance of peace today. He deserved it. 

When she does rinse it out again, he sighs, “Thank you.” 

“You know I’d do anything for you, Spence,” she whispers before pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Nothing happened,” he whispers back. “I’m just low… I think I need to go back on my meds.” 

“We can call and make an appointment with your psychiatrist in the morning,” she suggests. “Is it just depression or is there also anxiety?” 

“Both,” he says with a nod. “I listened to my meditations on the way home but it’s still bad.” 

“Do you want me to order you that good salmon rice bowl and get you some more magnesium supplements?” 

“Would you mind?” He worries. 

She leans over his shoulder and turns his face to the side. “Spence, I’m never going to mind.” 

“Thank you,” he says with tears in his eyes. 

She simply kisses him, “Do you want to get out?

He nods moving away from her so she can get out of the tub first. She’s quick to dry herself and then hold open a towel to wrap around him once he stands up. She picks up her clothes from the floor so he can step out and not get them wet. “I’m going to the bedroom, I’ll see you in there?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, taking a moment to brush his hair in the mirror. 

She sets out his favourite comfy clothes and gets into a pair of her pjs that stay in his room for times like these. She changes first and then heads back out to the living room to get her phone so she can order them some food. It’s not too late, so it’ll be no problem getting a delivery. When she makes her way back into the bedroom, Spencer has all the lights out except his little fairy lights, he’s changed into the outfit she picked out for him and getting into bed. She smiles at him, “Comfy?” 

He nods, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, love,” she says again, never tiring of all his appreciation. She hops into bed with him. “The food will be here in half an hour… did you want to watch something or read? Maybe listen to some music?” 

He sighs, thinking it over. “You can pick the show. I just want to sit with you.” 

“Okay,” she understands that. “I love you, you know?” 

He nods, smiling building, “I know… I love you.” 

She leans over and shares a kiss with him, she cups his cheek and runs her thumb over his prickly facial hair. When she pulls back, she keeps rubbing his cheek with her thumb, “You’re okay, you’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Those are 3 things she knows his anxiety and likes to tell him lies about. His brain convinces him she won’t stay if he’s ‘hard to take care of.’ His brain makes him think that he’s constantly fighting for his life… the adrenaline in his body is too strong, so a simple “you’re okay” or “you’re safe” can change his whole mindset. She’s sat in with him at therapy, she’s learned all the things that set him off and what makes him comfortable, and she’d do anything to make sure that he stays safe. That he stays alive and with her. Even if one day he decided he didn’t love her anymore, there’s nothing she wants more than for him to keep living. 

He snuggles into her side, she opens up his laptop and heads right to Netflix, resuming where they were in Grey’s Anatomy the last time she was over. Sure, this shows intense, but the plot is fun to follow, he can tell her what medical facts aren’t true and even try to guess the endings. He loves how she’s already seen it all yet she won’t ever tell him if he’s correct with his guesses… but he’s good at his job, he can tell when she’s trying to pretend he isn’t right. It’s fun for them. 

And then their food arrives, they both head out to the kitchen to put it on plates, get real silverware and put their drinks in a glass with ice. They put the laptop on the tiny kitchen table, sit side by side and eat in silence while their show is on. She watches him eat the whole plate, she sees the colour return in his cheeks and his eyes start to get heavy when the carb dump starts to rush through his veins. He’s tired. But she makes him stay up another hour so the food can digest before they head back into the bedroom. 

“Can you text Derek,” she suggests, handing him his phone. “Tell him you’re doing better and thank him for the ride home.” 

“Okay,” he takes the phone from her and does just that. “Derek says thank you for taking care of me.” 

“It’s my pleasure… maybe we can go out for lunch with him this weekend?” She suggests. 

He nods, “Yeah… if I’m feeling better.” 

“Of course,” she would never rush him. “I’d like to meet everyone at some point.” 

“I like that you don’t know them,” he admits. “Then you can’t get hurt.” 

There’s another anxious thought. 

“I’m not going to get hurt,” she assures him. She wraps her arms around him and looks up into his eyes, “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I will kill someone with my bare hands to come home to you.” 

He manages to smile a bit, “Me too… maybe we could live together? For real?” 

She lights right up, “Yeah, yeah I would love that. I mean, maybe not here… this place is already crowded when I visit, but we could start looking for a new apartment together?” 

“I’d like that. I’d like to start something fresh and new with you. I think we deserve a happy little place just for us,” he explains, its the most he’s said tonight. He must be feeling better. “I love being with you. I wish you were here all the time.” 

“Me too, Spence, that’s why I ran over here tonight,” she shares. “I felt like you’d need some us time.” 

“You’re too good to me,” he wraps her up in his arms. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Me either.”  

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Ceil cousin and her baby both now trap in England

How would other characters outside the Phantomhive reaction will be seeing the pretty widowed mother?

Cousin Mother Reader | Yandere Black Butler

Sebastian 

is probably the one you have to watch out the most for 

He has the easiest access to you upon Ciel’s command

And he definitely sees you at your most vulnerable 

Feeding and raising your child, trying to somehow get comfortable in your new life

“My lady, you seem exhausted. If need be I would be more than happy to relieve some of your stress.”

“Humph! If you really wanted to help you’d let me leave.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Exactly so you can be of no assistance to me.”

He can outlast you 

Waiting until you either pass out from tiredness or stress

to lay your child to rest and nurse you to health

“I love how you keep me on my toes, Ms. (Y/n). But I’m persistent.”

Bardroy

He doesn’t mind the sexy mama visiting him in the kitchen to compliment throwaway his awesome food

Or if you can cook alongside him he’s even more enthused

He totally agrees with the circumstances that keep you there 

But he also understands your frustration

Something he knows not many others in the home

“Well I see why yer feelin’ trapped…”

“See?”

“But thats no reas’n ta hate the yung master. He’s only tryin’ to help.”

And without Ciel’s say-so you and your his kid are his priority

If your so insistent on going out you’ll go with him right?

Like on a little date

He likes his women stubborn so he’s willing to compete with Sebastian on this

“Well Missus would you rather take I you to the market or him?”

“Please Bardroy, Miss (Y/n) is meant to travel with me, as the young master intended.”

“I prefer to travel with Bard. Don’t you think so sweetie?”

“Yeah!”

 😠

😏

Mey-Rin

Mey-Rin is similar to Bardroy but she has loads more access to you

She handles your clothes, dirty and not 

She delivers your documents or late night meals

If she isn’t sharing the room with you she’s guarding you at night

“Ahh~Lady (Y/n)’s sleepin’ soundly, yes she is!...I’m sure she’d like it I ‘elped her massage, she would!”

She thinks your the coolest and will spend her time with you orwatchingyoufrombehindthebushes

She thinks you and your kid are so cute 

She couldn’t be happier that you can’t actually leave

Not that she’d let you

She already thinks its progessive enough that you work 

And that deserves all the praise

“Whoa mistress (Y/n) read that whole contract in such a short amount of time?! Well its just like her to be the best, yes it is!”

Finnian

Finney is happy he gets to play with your kid

Though he knows to be gentle

But he hasn’t known love until you pat him on the head,smiling “Good job, Finny.”

From then he’s like an overpowered labrador

Happily following behind you to join your kid in trying to garner your attention

When Sebastian’s not dragging him away in light of his work

He’s trying to rest his head on your lap onyourchest

Or join you in your office Bedroom

While his naivete may allow you to get away with somethings 

He always seems to recall just how sad he’d be if you tried to leave

“Miss (Y/n)....you can’t leav….no…no…I won’t let you! You have to stay with me!”

Undertaker

He’s intrigued by you

For the time he’s been alive its not everyday he finds a woman so argumentative

But of course your in the company of the abnormal anyway

He’s thrilled to find that you often join in his laughter

Or your able to banter with him which Sebastian and Ciel avoid

He often is ignored by the duo which makes it easier for him to leave an impression on you

“So ‘Miss,’ is it? Is your husband truly out the picture?”

“If you count being dead out of the picture then yes.”

“Ah then would you give me *flips his bangs up* an old crone, like me a chance?”

“U-undertaker? Y-you’re eyes are–!”

“Shhh shhh. Let’s keep that as secret, for now. But do tell may I steal you away?”

He’s had time to think about what woman want to hear 

But he doubts your willing to accept normal means

So he’ll just take you for now, only to be stolen back by Sebastian when they realize you or your son is missing

“Don’t mind the lack of space in the coffin Deary, its meant for three!”

#yandere ciel #yandere undertaker #yandere finnian #yandere mey-rin #yandere bardroy #yandere x reader #yandere sebastian #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji sebastian #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere #yanderes #yandere adrian crevan #yandere finny

[fineprintedsunsets]

JAWBREAKER

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 1 | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List

Synopsis: Bucky's been hired to watch you as a favor to his best friend; your father. But when a game of spin the bottle has Bucky choking on his words, he just can't help himself anymore.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (both are consenting adults). dbf!bucky x f reader. mentions of violence against others (nothing undeserved) jealous bucky. unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it.) dirty talk. possessive bucky. p in v sex. is a hired bodyguard a stalker? maybe? idk. lots of praise + pet names.

taboo au + "this is fucked up" "you like it"

How Bucky ended up at a Halloween party for drunk teenagers was a mystery. A ghost-themed one at that. Kids who he wasn't even sure should be drinking clutched red solo cups filled with various alcohol, laughing obnoxiously and passing hushed whispers.

He rolled his eyes.

Teenagers.

He was sent here by your father, and although he loved the man (practically his best friend) this was the one event he regretted agreeing to accompany you to. You were 19, and why you wanted to go to a ghost-themed party with sixteen and seventeen-year-olds was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he agreed to supervise you for your father's sake. The second he steps foot through the frilly-decorated entrance, he smells the overpowering scent of marijuana and Axe cologne.

Thank god he didn’t grow up in an era where boys would wear that shit and think they were the coolest fuckers around. His nose turns up, turning to its source. It was indeed three teenage boys with what must have been a gallon of gel in their hair and crooked smiles splayed on their features.

They accompany a girl at the table, he can't see her features due to the blocking backs of the boys, but he can see one of them lift their fingers to brush ever so slightly against her arm.

The girl moves away, and when she does, Bucky's eyes catch on her.

It’s you, his best friend's daughter. He tries hard not to let his eyes linger on you, knowing he has only one job here tonight, and it’s to keep you out of harm's way. There was only one problem with that. Your father kept most of his work life hidden away from his wife and since he worked with a lot of cruel people, he decided not to involve you either.

Which means you had never met his best friend. You didn’t even know he had one. Bucky was sent here to watch you from afar, your dad didn’t want you to know he sent someone to supervise you every single time you went out.

You pass the boy a look, awkwardly shaking your head. You attempt to laugh it off and walk away, but the boy grabs your wrist. Bucky bristles where he stands against a wall, having just entered.

He can’t approach you, he couldn’t risk you finding out who he was. But oh how he wanted to break all twenty-eight of Jelly Hair’s pitiful knuckles.

“Let go, Jake.” You growl out, but Jelly Hair won’t let up, wrapping his digits around your tiny wrist and forcing you to sit back down. It angers him, how the other boys he’s sitting with laugh at his antics.

A loud crunching sound echoes from someone over at your table and Bucky leans away from the wall, getting ready to intercept, thinking he may have hit you. He should be ashamed of the anger that blossoms through his chest.

Jake’s fingers slip from your wrist as the other boys jump up. Jelly Hair turns toward the door where Bucky is standing, allowing him to spectate the blood now running from his nose.

He can’t help the smile that graces his features.

You hit him.

“My girl” Bucky finds himself whispering. He tucks his hand in his pockets, moving away from the entrance and more profound into whoever's house this is. White lights flash from the rooms as music blares from speakers in the living room.

Everyone is dressed like a ghost, some people; like you are wearing a t-shirt that displays a cute drawing of a supernatural creature. Others wear sheets with glasses placed overtop of them, or uneven eye-holes cut out of the white fabric.

Bucky grabs a solo cup and fills it up with Cola, the only non-alcoholic drink on the ping-pong table. His metal fingers grip the cup and bring it to his lips, only to spit it back into the cup.

“What the fuck.” He mutters, scrunching his face in distaste. He does a double take on the bottle, bringing the contents up to his nose, Rum.

It’s fucking Rum Coke.

He takes the cup anyway, having no intention to sip from it anymore. He blends in this way, holding a solo cup just like the other hundred people here. His blue eyes search for you in the crowd, spotting you right away, your body settled on the lap of a man, early 20’s he’d say.

A feeling he’s all too familiar with when it comes to you surges through his veins, seeing the white skirt you're wearing hike up, allowing him and everyone else to see his hand knead at your ass.

Bucky’s jaw clenches as he watches you lean into the man, your lips wrapping around his, your eyes closing. Bucky has no idea who he is, but whoever he is, his dick is growing hard under you, having very clear intentions of what he’s about to do. And Bucky will be damned if he allows you to get fucked by this piece of shit.

Not that it should matter to him. You should have a man that would treat you right, protect you, pleasure you. Not this dick-wad who wants a quick fuck. Your father wanted him to keep you out of trouble, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

At least, it’s what he tells himself.

Bucky watches for a few more seconds as you rub yourself over his cock, painfully humping it. He knows you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it, it’s evident on your face. The dick-wad beneath you is, and that’s what makes Bucky’s fingers ball into tight fists, making him grind his teeth down again, on the verge of breaking his goddamn jaw.

That’s what you were.

A fucking jawbreaker, surely you were smarter than this. You had to have known you were worth so much more. You had to know dick-wad couldn’t make up for a quarter of that amount.

“Spin the bottles starting downstairs!” A girl announces from the banister. She’s drunk, very drunk, Bucky notices. She also must be the owner of the way her fingers wrap around the railing.

He could just tell.

Bucky feels the relief flood his chest when you turn away from the man, clearly seeing a good excuse for escape. He growls but lets you go as he soon follows suit. Bucky has no interest in watching you play spin the bottle, but of course, he has not all a choice.

He couldn’t decide whether it was his job, (why he was here in the first place, he’s had to repeat that to himself a few times throughout the night.) Or because he didn’t want to watch a bunch of horny teenagers shove their fucking tongues down your throat, heat bloomed in his chest, mixing with anger.

Either way, he would have to break more than fourteen knuckles tonight.

✪

Bucky’s already taken his place on the wall, going unnoticed as the kids gather around in a circle, sitting with their legs crossed, fixated on the bottle that is situated in the middle.

You sit on the right side, next to some other girls he recognizes.

Women.

You were 19 years old for god sake.

The woman from earlier, the owner of the house, Bucky had now learned the name of, Jess plops next to the man from earlier, her eyes analyzing all the players. Other people stand, just here to spectate the game, giving Bucky plenty of cover.

“We need one more player!” Her voice slurs, looking up from her sitting position, searching for the correct person to fill the gap right across from you. Your eyes search around with Jess’s until both pairs land on him.

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

“What’s your name?”

Bucky grinds his teeth together again, he’ll be very surprised if he has teeth after tonight.

“James.” He grits out, trying his very best to seem like he doesn't want to be here. Which isn’t very hard.

He doesn't.

“You look a bit old to be here, James.” Jess' eyes roam the others, looking for the attention she so desperately wants. The others let out faux chuckles. Bucky can still feel your eyes burning through his, even though over fifty pairs are now aimed at him, you stick out.

You always have.

“Who invited their dad, guys?” Jess pokes again, her ghastly features twisting in a terrible laugh. Other people laugh now, but Bucky doesn’t mind. You don’t laugh, your features scrunch at Jess’s words. The man didn’t look old at all, older than a teenager sure, he was quite handsome.

“Come on, James. Join us!” You call, and the man's eyes immediately meet yours. You can’t help yourself, you gasp at the intensity of them, the beautiful blue irises that stare back at you.

Bucky still didn’t move from the wall, it was very evident he had no choice in this matter. “A little party never killed anybody, James.” Jess’s cat-like mouth squeaks.

“Bucky-” He corrects, heaving a sigh. “Just Bucky.” Bucky walks over to the circle, watching the gathering crowd part. Allowing him to sit like the rest of them, occupying the spot across from you.

“Let’s get started, Anon, Why don’t you spin first?”

Anon, a very stereotypical frat boy reaches for the bottle, his companions cheering behind him. The glass spins as everyone's eyes follow it, even Bucky’s.

The end lands on Jess, which is ironic. Bucky is checking off his mental checklist, he’s no matchmaker but..

Obnoxious Voices. Check. Annoying Presence. Check. Feline Like Faces. Check. Rich Pieces Of Shit. Check.

Those two were made for each other.

The two kiss awkwardly, the whole crowd kicking and screaming taunts, acting like children who just touched a deceased insect. Bucky settles into the hard-concrete floor, getting ready for a very excruciating game.

✪

It’s about an hour before you finally get the bottle in your hands. Everyone waits on bated breath as you capture your bottom lip between your teeth. You grab the bottle and spin, watching the glass glide across the concrete floor.

It clicks and clanks before it stops, and the endpoints to the stranger.

The older man that’s been stuck to the wall the whole party. You’ve never seen him before but were quite intrigued when you caught him looking at you during the game, pretending as if he wasn't.

The stranger's eyes flick open, looking at the end pointed towards him and then where you sit across from him. You smile to yourself as Bucky stays in his position.

The chanting starts when Jess’s voice echoes through the room, “You have to kiss the old man!” She’s 20, but acts like a five-year-old.

“Kiss!”

“Kiss!”

“Kiss!”

People around you repeat, and so you do the only logical thing to do. You place your hands in front of you and crawl to Bucky, knowing full well your skirt is riding up as you do so.

You can see his jaw clenching. You arrive in front of him, propping yourself up on your knees, Bucky's eyes look up at where you slightly tower over him.

You reach your fingers to graze his jaw, and when your fingers meet his subtle, the fifty pairs of eyes disappear. Right now, it’s just you and him. “Come here.” You mutter, bringing his face to yours.

Bucky hesitates, but lets it happen anyway. He’s captivated by you, you can tell. He wants to pull away but can’t.

Time seems to slow as your eyes close and your noses touch, stopping before letting your lips meet each other. Heat builds in your stomach, anticipation and want bubbling deep inside your core.

“This is fucked up.” He whispers, his breath grazing your wet lips.

“You like it.” You answer, before pulling his face to yours, your lips colliding in perfect harmony. Heat fills your stomach, settling itself between your thighs. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup your scalp, molding his palm to your head, crushing his lips against yours.

Your tongue slides into his mouth, entangling with his own. Your breath heaves as your stomach urges for more, your thighs pressing together in your kneeling position. You pull away before you can go any farther, breath heaving, a string of saliva still connecting your puffy lips.

The words that exit his mouth are barely audible, but you catch them. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“Get a room, lovebirds,” Jess calls, laughing with the others. But you ignore them, your eyes are still pulled into that trance, still feeling Bucky’s lips on yours.

The next thing you know, Bucky is getting up, his hand reaching for your own. You gulp at his gaze now, seeing the intensity switch to something different.

Something primal.

✪ Somehow you ended up in a closet, with Bucky’s breath fanning over your neck, his cock painfully straining against his jeans. It took all but four seconds for your clothes to be off, Bucky’s joined yours short after, pooling on the floor of the large closet.

“Sweetheart-” Bucky sounds breathless as he reaches out, his metal hand (which you okay with, apparently) running down the curve of your breast, dipping in your bra to twirl a cool digit around your semi-hard peak. (Especially when they made you feel like that.)

“How old are you?” You press, moaning as Bucky’s other hand cups your waist, making sparks fly up and down your skin. This closet, which is bigger than the master bedroom, has suddenly gotten small.

Bucky fights the urge to smack your ass in response, you didn’t care about age when you were grinding on that man’s cock.

“106.” He answers thoughtfully, but you only laugh, catching he wasn’t going to tell you his age. Bucky’s face scrunches in wonder, but it quickly fades when you press your body into his own, running your smooth fingers over his muscled abdomen.

“You sure you want to do this, baby?”

“Positive.”

Bucky brings your lips to his, all while taking hold of your hips, backing you into one of the closet's white walls. You engrossed in his touch, the feel of his fingers on your bare stomach, pushing you against the wall.

“I’d make you hump my cock, ‘show you what real pleasure is. But there’s no couch in here, sweet girl.” You feel your pussy clench at his words, you hadn’t known he was watching you then.

“Just gonna have to take me bare,” Bucky mutters, his hands grabbing your back, flipping you around so your palms are planted above you, your ass jutting out. His fingers knead at the meat of your ass, making sure to erase any hand-prints dick-wad may have left. You moan, bucking into his touch, wanting more.

“Greedy girl, you think you deserve my cock? Bare, too? You think you can handle that type of pleasure?” His fingers ghost over your panties, barely hitting your clit.

“Bucky! Please.”

Bucky smiles, knowing what he’s doing to you. If he wasn’t about to fuck you in a closet at a party he would tease you a lot more, and make you pay for letting that man touch you. You both knew you couldn’t wait that long, and neither could he.

Bucky pulls down your panties, noticing how your slick coats the fabric. “These are drenched, all for me, hmm?” He was so hesitant at first, to kiss and touch you, but now he didn’t give a shit.

You were his now.

Your panties soon joined the rest of your clothes. Bucky’s breath caught when he looked down at you, making your thighs clench together. He runs a metal finger through your folds, collecting your slick.

You cry out from the spark of pleasure, attempting to keep yourself up against the wall.

“You're so wet for me, sweet girl.” You feel lightheaded as Bucky releases himself from his boxers, you can’t see anything, only the white paint of the wall.

You can feel his tip nudge at your entrance, as he leans down, placing soft kisses along your back. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Okay? You want to be filled with my cock?”

“Yes!” You buck your hips, your eyes tightly closed as you feel his cock slide itself to the hilt, using your gathered arousal to aid in his thrust. You cry out, the stretch is both painful and pleasurable. Bucky groans, feeling the way you clench around his cock, feeling the tightness of your cunt.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Taking me so well.” For a few moments, you just stand there, Bucky letting you adjust to his cock, to the feeling of being filled up completely. You had sex before, plenty of it, but you never took a guy bare.

But Bucky, the way his cock sat inside of you, not even moving and it still shooting sparks into your stomach, was something you’d never thought you’d experience.

“Can I move, baby? You alright?” You nod your head while Bucky places another kiss on your back, pulling his cock out to the tip, and pushing back in.

“Ahh-”

“Feel good, sweetgirl?” Words simply do not exist anymore, Bucky whispers against you with each thrust of his cock, his movements slow at first, allowing you to take the most pleasure out of it, trying so hard not to cause you any pain.

The wet noises of your body's meeting over and over again fill the air, and somehow it drowns out the music of the party. Bucky’s groans and your moans tangle together as you buck your hips to meet his thrust, accommodating his cock.

“So good, baby.” You clench at his words, milking his cock. Bucky smiles, looking down at you.

Bucky’s metal arm comes around your bare stomach, making your thighs fall open wider, “Like when I praise you? Your pretty little pussy loves when I tell her she’s doing a good job, baby.”

A single digit finds your clit, Bucky rubs at it, slow tantalizing circles as you buck into him.

“I want you to come on my cock, I need to see this pussy clench around me harder.” Your body involuntarily does as he asks, your cunt clenching down on his cock as his thrusts speed their tempo and his finger matches the torture at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm stirring deep in your belly, the heat from the room going straight to your head, encasing you in its bubble.

“That’s it.” Bucky praises, dragging out both words, “Good girl, come for me.”

You do, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through your veins, as Bucky chases his release, making sure you get over the edge first. His breaths come out in pants as his cock pushes into your cunt at a punishing speed. “I wonder how your daddy would feel if he knew you just came on his best friend's cock.”

“What?”

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[eufezco]

YOU'RE TOO DRUNK FOR THIS – S. H. x FEM!READER

IN WHICH you're too drunk to have that conversation.

This was your first Halloween party.

Every October 31 you'd go out with Jonathan to take care of the kids while they trick-or-treated. It was fun, but you couldn't deny you wished you were in one of those big parties with loud music, people dancing and wearing the coolest costumes, and liters of alcohol. No one ever invited you to one of those, no one except Steve. You started hanging out with him last year when you were paired up for a group project together. You wouldn't tell him that this was your first Halloween party but he perfectly knew you've never been to a party before. People in those places were nothing like you and even though his friends didn't like you at all, it's been so long since the last time he cared about what his friends had to say and Steve wanted you to be there. Plus, he wouldn't have gone to the party either if you hadn't accepted his invitation.

Steve drove to your house and introduced himself to your parents, reassuring them that you'd be okay. After what happened to Barb they've been pretty paranoid and you going out with someone new creeped them out. Then, he drove to the party making fun of the look your parents gave the two of you before leaving and you couldn't be more embarrassed. You stood outside the house, colorful lights coming out of the windows and the music rumbling down the street. "You've never seen a house before?" You rolled your eyes and hit him with your elbow. The house was crowded, but no one paid attention to you, just Steve, and that made you feel more comfortable. Everyone was minding their own business; dancing, drinking, trying to hold a conversation over the music, there were even a few making out. Steve guided you to the kitchen where the music wasn't too loud. "Steve!" You heard a girl calling the boy. Steve said hi back to Carol and after her, Tommy appeared. You tried to hide behind him, but the disgusted faces of his friends made their way to you.

"Seriously, Steve? Her? Come one, man."

"Shut up, Tommy."

They didn't like you, and that was okay because you didn't like them either. "Okay, y/n, what do you want to drink? We've got beer, rum, vodka, punch..." He served himself a cup of beer and waited for your answer. "Well, I've never- I've never tried any of these." You laughed nervously and Steve raised his eyebrows. "Try my beer." He handed you his cup, you took it between your fingers and you let the liquid go through your lips. "Ew." You mumbled wrinkling your nose, Steve laughed at how cute you looked. "No beer for you since you've got no taste." He took a cup for you and decided to pour you punch. "I think you might like this one." And so you did, it tasted like cherry, and at one point of the night, you lost count of how many cups of punch you drank. After you two got your drinks, Steve grabbed your hand and walked you to the living room where the people were dancing.

He didn't let go of your hand, still holding it while dancing, spinning you around now and then and making you giggle.

You followed Carol to the kitchen where the table was full of alcohol bottles. "Hey! No, no, no. She's had enough." Steve tried to take your cup off Carol's hands as she was about to handed it to you after refilling it with punch. "Carol come on. It's her first time drinking, she's had enough." The girl rolled her eyes and let go of the cup all of a sudden, Steve spilling all the punch on your dress. "Shit y/n, I'm sorry." You shook your head. "It's okay. I'll- I'm going to the bathroom." Steve followed you and closed the door of the bathroom behind him. You tried to clean the red stain on your dress using a towel and water. "I'm sorry y/n. That's not coming off."

"It's coming." Steve shook his head. "Look, take my jacket and let me drive you home, okay?" His voice was so soft and his deep brown eyes looked for yours as your eyes were focused on cleaning your dress. Steve's hand landed on top of yours making you stop. You gave up and suddenly started crying. "I'm truly sorry y/n. You can have my jacket and I'm gonna drive you home and everything's gonna be okay. You can even keep my jacket forever if you like it." Steve took it off immediately and he placed it over your shoulders, the smell of his cologne and the warmth of it making you cry even harder. Steve felt so bad for ruining your dress and making you cry because you seemed to be enjoying the party so much. And you looked so pretty with your dress, he felt so bad.

"I don't care about the stoop- the stupid dress." You babbled. You just needed to let it all out. "I just- I like you so much, Steve. And you're my friend and I've never felt this way before and I don't know what to do because I don't wanna lose you." If you weren't drunk you'd never have said such a thing and even now you felt the embarrassment hit you like a truck. Your cute doe and red eyes contemplating him. Steve placed his hands on your cheeks and connected his lips to yours. A cute little peck that didn't last long but it was enough to have you asking yourself if that really happened or if you were too drunk. Now you were the one that kissed him, you just needed to be sure that that happened, that he kissed you, that Steve Harrington kissed you. His back was against the bathroom door, his big hands never leaving the soft touch on your cheeks as he kissed you back. Steve has kissed a lot of people. Was he proud? No, not exactly because in the long run, they'd be creating fake scenarios with him. He wasn't proud either because at some point he lost the feeling of excitement before kissing someone. But now, being in that small bathroom with you, he almost got scared when he felt the tickling sensation in the lower part of his stomach and he thought about how much he has missed that feeling. "Mmm, y/n-" He said against your lips. "Y/n, I-" He called your name again and squeezed your cheeks making you stop kissing him. He giggled as your cheeks grew hot under his touch.

"I like you too, but you're too drunk for this." Your eyes went wide. You were drunk but you were still able to understand what those four words meant. You didn't know what to say next since the only person that has ever reciprocated your feelings was Jonathan when you both were 7. "What does- What do you mean with 'I like you too'?" You licked your lips tasting the beer from Steve's, it tasted better now since you got it from his lips. And Steve could feel the punch taking over the taste of beer in his mouth. "What do you think I mean?" You thought about it, biting your lower lip as you looked for an answer. "We're not having this conversation now anyways." Steve said interrupting your thoughts and you internally thanked him because you didn't know how to reply to his question. The truth was that he wasn't looking for a specific answer, he knew exactly what he meant, he just wanted to tease your drunk self. "I'm taking you home, let's go." Steve smiled at you and threw his arm over your shoulders, opening the door of the bathroom and getting you both out of your first party ever.

"We're talking about this tomorrow, Steve." You babbled.

"Of course we are."

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