#when you go outside peak summer to complete silence

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

Hi friends! It's been awhile (:

I am back to writing! This time, I'm planning on having many parts to this story. It's a DBF Joel Miller story, which I love to read, which means I had to write it, right?

I wrote this with no Y/N, instead each character gives her a nickname/pet name.

So here's Part 1, I really hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), eventual smut, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter, alcohol consumption

“Mornin’,” His Southern accent was even deeper than usual. My head peaks up from behind my computer, noticing his very tired eyes. The bags under his eyes still somehow did him justice. 

“Mornin’ Joel,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee. I watch as he finds his way towards my bosses office. He was only my boss at work, but at home he was just Dad. 

I watch his ass move in his jeans, shamelessly. 

Finding your coworker hot is one thing, it’s another when it’s also your dad’s friend and he was about 20 years older than you. 

I’ve thought Joel Miller was quite the looker since I was about 18. I had just started working for my dad. I was mainly just scheduling and doing work orders. Joel took me out to a work site one day, on my father’s request. He wanted me to get know some of the people who would be scheduling work from us. I got to sit around with the property manager of an apartment complex in a tight black dress in the dead of summer, watching guys replace windows. While outside that day, Joel worked alongside some of the laborers, his tanned skin and shaggy dark hair glistening with sweat. Something about him doing manual labor turned me on. Something awoke in me that day, and ever since then, I thirst over him in silence. 

I catch myself looking a bit too long, quickly averting my eyes to my computer screen. I act like I am typing something, glancing over to Joel and my dad walking out of his office together. They are discussing another project that Joel was overseeing that would keep him very busy in the upcoming months. 

“My girl here will be starting back at college in the fall, so she will only be part time for awhile,” My dad says, drawing attention to me. 

“Oh really, where ya going?” 

I blank out completely for a moment.

“UT Austin,” I finally answer.

“Smart girl, you living on campus?”

“Nope, just getting my master’s in Engineering so living from home makes the most sense.”

Joel shakes his head, “Master’s. Didn’t you just graduate high school?”

“I’m 25, Joel.”

His eyes scan me for a moment, realizing I’m much older than he remembers. 

“Ha,” He grumbles, “Time flies huh, Steve?”

“Sure does, you just wait for that Sarah of yours is off to college,” My dad laughs, slapping Joel’s shoulder. I wince, realizing again he has a young daughter. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. 

“We got about 5 years on that,” Joel says, his eyes returning to mine, “Well it’ll be nice havin’ you around during our busy season.”

“Happy to help,” I reply, not really meaning it. 

“Hey, Joel, you and Sarah making an appearance at our BBQ this weekend? We invited the whole neighborhood and I can’t remember if you told me you’d be there.”

His eyes are still on me, “Yeah, I’ll be there,” his eyes return to my dad’s, “Just me and Tommy though, Sarah is goin’ over to a friend’s house.”

“Can’t wait!” My dad cheers, “Baby girl, can you make sure my schedule is cleared Friday evening so I don’t have to worry about when I can get the meat?”

“Of course, dad,” I grit my teeth, “I’m on it.”

-

“Hey baby girl, can you go grab me some extra plates?” 

My dad was over the top with his BBQs to say the very least. The whole neighborhood was in on it. Steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken, the whole thing. I spent all morning getting the huge backyard and cabana ready for all our visitors. We usually had someone come over to do all the setting up, but Dad made sure to remind me that I was living rent free and being paid on his payroll, so setting up was the least I could do. 

People littered the pool and backyard. I weave between people, giving smiles and welcomes where I could.

I walk in to the kitchen, the cold AC air hitting my bare arms. Luckily, I was wearing shorts over my bikini shorts, or else the goose bumps would be up and down my legs, too. I begin searching the cabinets for the large serving plates you always used for big gatherings. Leaning down, my triangle bikini top almost lets my boobs loose. I sit up straight, messing with the knots on my back. I knew tightening it could only help so much.

“Need help?” I almost jump out of my skin. I turn quickly, spotting Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with me.

“Shit, you fucking scared me,” I breathe loudly, patting my chest to make my heart stop racing, “I think I can get it.”

“Mhm,” He sticks a tooth pick between his teeth, “Lemme help, girl.”

God he was so fine. I hated myself for having a crush on him. But the domestic and simple gray t-shirt that hugged his arms so well and the blue jeans? I simply could not resist staring. 

No chance in hell. But I got to look at him every day and imagine it. 

I turn on my heels, holding the ties out to him so he could tie them. 

“I need them tighter,” I mutter, “Don’t want these puppies falling out in front of the Adlers.”

“Don’t want to excite Mr. Adler too much, he may have himself a heart attack.”

I smile to myself, biting my lip. He ties it, his fingers grazing my bare back slightly. 

“All good now, girl,” I turn to face him, looking up at him through my eyelashes, “Now what were you lookin’ for?”

“Serving plates,” I explain, “Dad is finishing up those steaks, needs more space.”

“Well let’s get ‘em and head out to all the fun,” He says, ducking down to the cabinet I was looking in originally. He finds them, handing them up to me. He looks so good looking up at me from this angle. 

“You want to grab us some beers,” I suggest, “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Your dad runnin’ low?”

“Probably, so grab three.”

–

“So, you going to be here all summer?”

I had no interest in talking to Tommy, but he was keeping me from toeing the line with Joel in my drunken state, so here I am. I sit in my lounger chair, wanting so bad to take off my jean shorts. I knew if I did, Tommy would take it as I’m making a pass, so I sweat extra. 

“I’m starting college in August, so yeah I’ll be around the office and staying home.”

He smiles, “Good to hear, love seeing you around.”

I smile back faking a cheery laugh, “Thanks, Tommy… care to grab me another beer?”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk away before searching the crowd for Joel. I spot him across the yard, talking to one of the newer neighbors. A single mom who moved in two months ago. My dad kept joking the other night that he’d be making her my stepmom, which only made me gag. She was beautiful, younger than my dad, but just about Joel’s age. 

A pang of jealousy rises within me. 

Joel finally catches my wandering eyes. He smiles gently, giving me a nod.

“Here, darling,” Tommy says sweetly, “Need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Your brother, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, ‘s up?”

I sit up, leaning over making my boobs hang right in his eye line. 

If I couldn’t keep one Miller’s attention, maybe I could snag second best. My beer filled brain thinks about how they are cut from the same cloth, so they both are probably good at this. 

“Do you want to help me change a lightbulb?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I guess, where at?”

I smirk, “My bedroom.”

We sneak away, my eyes scanning the area. It didn’t appear as anyone was following us. My room was the last room on the left upstairs, so the anticipation as I guided him down the hallway was killing me.

Ever since Joel grazed my back earlier, I’ve been ready. So fucking ready. 

“Are we actually changing a lightbulb?”

I open my door for him, gesturing to him to follow me in.

In the dim light, Tommy was very cute. He was a sweet guy and I knew he’d be the first to jump on my idea. 

“You tell me,” I say, starting to untie the knot Joel tied. In my moment of trying to be sexy, I realize Joel tied the stupidest and hardest knot ever. Tommy notices my struggle, reaching around me, frantically trying to get the top off.

As it gets loose, I reach up to grab his neck.

“What the fuck is going on ‘ere?” 

His voice freezes me. Tommy looks towards the door in horror.

“Joel-“

“Tommy, you fucking know better,” His voice is so intimidating and scary, I cant even muster the courage to turn around, “Git.”

Tommy gives me eyes saying I’m so sorry, and I just stare blankly at my wall. I hear Tommy’s foot steps run down the stairs. I realize how drunk I am because my wall paper begins to move on it’s own. It doesn’t usually do that. 

“Now you,” His stride towards me is quick, “I’m not your Dad, but don’t think he’d like you fucking his employees.”

Maybe it was the liquid courage, “Who said I was trying to fuck him?”

I snap my head towards his stern and impossible to read face.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “He got through my knot, he assumed somethin’ was about to happen.”

“Well, even if that’s where it went, why are you putting your nose in our business?”

He chuckles darkly, “So now it’s ours, huh? I have you know, girl, Tommy’s business is my business. And you’re just makin’ my job hard.”

I tiptoe closer to him, “And what’s your job, again, Mr. Miller?”

“Make sure people are behavin’ themselves.”

I realize what he’s doing. My tipsy mind took a second to search his face for more, but I can't read him at all. 

“I’m behaving, Mr. Miller. I promise,” I reach up, touching his jaw, “No more funny business.”

It was the closest I had ever got to him. I felt a rush just touching him.

“Good, get your top back on and come down to the party. Your dad is looking for you.”

I look down at myself as he leaves the room. My fucking tits are out, and he didn’t even look down.

The game he was playing was not the same one I was playing.

–

The next morning, I have a pounding headache and no drive to leave my room. I was embarrassed and horrified. I knew I would have to face Joel and Tommy on Monday morning, so I had to make amends beforehand. I really didn’t want them to tell my dad and I was pretty out of line for trying to fuck Tommy when Joel wasn't giving me the attention my drunk ass thought I deserved.

After spending hours in bed, rolling back and forth thinking of a script to say, I figured that honesty is the best policy. 

Well, honesty with a little bend in the truth. 

I get showered and dressed. My usual summer time outfit was a crop top and short shorts, but today I needed to be more… conservative. 

I find a nice summery dress, that went to midthigh. It was yellow, not a lot cleavage, floral. Innocent. 

When I get downstairs, my dad sits in the living room, his feet propped up watching the news. 

“Where ya going, baby girl?” 

“I’m going for a walk,” I lie. 

“Wearing that?”

“Yes,” I nod quickly, “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, “No, have fun, I guess.”

I could tell he was suspicious, but he wasn’t one to pester me too much. He had high expectations for me, but I always exceeded them. He never questioned me too much, unless it was about school. He didn’t even really care about my love life. He always got excited when I told him I was going on dates in college. I mean, I rather him be excited than bother me about the guys I was seeing.

I start my journey to Joel’s. I didn’t even know if he was home or not, I was going on blind faith.

It was hot as shit and I was not fully prepared to walk to his house in a dress and sandals. 

I could’ve just driven there and back. But no, I decided to roast in the hot summer sun.

–

When I arrive to his house, I just kind of stand in his driveway, catching my breath. He was home, his truck was here. 

I walk to the front door, knocking first then ringing the door bell. 

It takes about minute, but he gets the door. 

And he’s shirtless. 

It was the worst and best moment of my entire life. 

“What are you doing here?”

And it’s not quite the response I was anticipating when I arrived at his door. 

“I uh-,” I hear some stirring inside the house, which causes me to peak my head past Joel’s shoulder. 

I see movement, but my eyes find Joel’s again before I could focus in on it. He pushes me back a bit, coming outside and shutting the door behind him. 

“I came to apologize, but you seem busy.”

He shakes his head, “Not busy, just woke up.”

“With someone?”

What the fuck? Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Pardon me?”

“Well I walked this whole way to apologize about my inappropriate behavior yesterday,” I explain, “But yeah, that’s it.”

The door creaks open and I am wholeheartedly anticipating a hot MILF or something. But instead, it’s a little girl. 

“Sarah, get inside!”

“Oh hi, I know you!”

I smile at the girl. She was cute, I had to admit. She looked a bit like Joel, mainly the smile. A smile I wasn’t too familiar with, because he wasn’t too keen on my jokes. Ever.

“Yeah, I work with your dad,” I explain, “Nice to see you, Sarah.”

“You too, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Sarah she can’t st-” 

“I’d love to, only if your dad says it’s okay.”

He got himself in a pickle, but I was aching to have a conversation that didn’t involve me putting my foot in my mouth like I almost did again. Plus, some food and water would help the heatstroke I felt coming on.

He stares at me, almost like he wished I’d disappear, “Of course, come in. Sarah is making sandwiches.”

“I hope you like turkey and cheese!”

—

“Thanks for the sandwich, Sarah,” I say, wiping my face making sure I didn’t have mustard left over.

She smiles with her mouth full, “You’re welcome!”

“Hey Sarah, why don’t you go get ready for swim practice,” He suggests, “Me and your new best friend need to have an adult conversation.”

She looks up at him annoyed, “I guess, but don’t scare her away. She has a cool pool I want to swim in.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, don’t scare me away, Joel.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at me with his lazer eyes. I just wish Sarah a farewell and shut my mouth, waiting for the storm. He stirs, eating another bite of his sandwich. 

“So you came to apologize, huh?”

I swallow, “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I had one too many yesterday.”

He nods, “Yeah you were practically falling out of that top of yours before you took Tommy upstairs. Surprised you didn’t have it off before then.”

My eyes widen, “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Don’t think anyone was particularly mad about it,” He says, “Maybe one of those neighborhood watch moms, but who cares about ‘em?”

I can’t help but smirk. Was he insinuating that he wasn’t mad about almost seeing my boobs?

“Yeah, they always give me the most disgusted looks when I’m out jogging.”

“Cause’ they miss bein’ young and beautiful,” He explains, “All their husbands stare, too.”

I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this, I find myself leaning in a bit to try to talk quieter. It seems like this is conversation we should be whispering to each other.

“Do you stare?”

Foot. In. Mouth. 

He smirks, giggling a bit. I finally got to see him smile.

“Of course, I do.”

----

Hehehehe tell me what you think! I'll be back with part 2 soon!

#Joel Miller #Joel miller x reader #The last of us #Joel x reader #joel miller smut #dbf joel miller #age gap joel miller

[loveshotzz]

18+

Thinking about colors!older!steve on the fourth of july…

You’re over at his place, a yearly get together like christmas with him and Jenny. You two get to lounge in the pool while he gets to break out the grill.

He’s in nothing but his apron she got him last father’s day that says “Grill Master” and short blue swim trunks that stop right in the middle of his hairy thighs, with some white plastic birkenstocks on his feet. The colors make his tanned skin glow along with the sheen of sweat that coats it provided by the high hanging sun above.

You don’t know how thankful he is for the apron though especially today, because the tiny little swim suit you brought this year is going to haunt his every waking thought for at least the next two weeks.

The two of you sneak glances from across the back yard, and he thinks he might actually die when you decide to lounge on the floaty practically fully exposed to him. The water makes your swim suit cling to your curves like it’s suctioned to your body. Water dripping off your skin in beads collecting in the holes of the floaty, the slight breeze making your nipples peak. He can feel his jaw drop, quickly collecting himself when he catches the look on Jenny’s face.

You smirk eyes closed under your sunglasses, you don’t know what’s hotter the heat of his gaze or the summer day. Jenny scoff’s when Eddie Money starts playing over the speakers he installed a few years ago above their deck, interrupting the nap that was begging to take over in the gentle sway of the water. The high pitch ringing of her phone saving you both from her complaining as she clacks away in her flip flops to go talk to her boyfriend inside.

The silence is thick with tension that both of you have felt since last Christmas, a secret your best friend doesn’t know. He clears his throat and you roll off your floaty at the same time. The cold water soothes the damage the sun did, your sunglasses slipping off when you re-emerge.

His standing at the edge of the pool. Right in front of you.

His apron is slung over the patio chair behind him, giving you the perfect view of the lingering effects your have on him by how snug his trunks fit. The salt and pepper hair that covers the top of his chest curls with sweat, the muscles in his abs flexing when he can see how the water rolls down the swell of your breasts this angle. A deep sigh escaping through his nose.

“Honey.” It’s a warning.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington?” You bat your lashes, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth when you see the way the name makes his dick twitch.

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say gets cut off by Jenny’s reappearance. His ears going red and eyes widening when you decide to push off the side of the pool floating on your back again at the same time.

“Are you getting in the water Dad?” She smiles brightly completely unaware of what’s happening under her nose.

He grumbles something about needing a drink, and maybe later before he disappears through the sliding door.

“I was gone for like 3 minutes, what’s his deal?” she asks annoyed reclaiming her spot next to the pool.

You just shrug, taking another few laps before you say you have to go to the bathroom. She doesn’t think anything of it too distracted by her phone again.

It takes him less than a minute to find you once you’re inside pulling you into his office. He doesn’t care that you’re dripping chlorine all over his hard wood floors, or how you shiver from the cold of the AC. Not when he’s got you propped on his desk buried between your legs with one large hand covering your mouth to block your moans from his daughter just outside the curtain covered window. Stretching you open more and more with each harsh thrust of his hips, till he feels the way you start fluttering around his dick. Your walls begging him for his release which he gladly gives you, filling you to the brim before he’s sliding your bottoms back in place not giving you the option to clean up.

#i wrote this at work today idk lol #colors series #older!steve thots #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #older!steve harrington

[bunnyreaper]

cruel summer

pairing - gabriel reyes x f!reader wc - 9,130 warnings - power dynamics, deep throating, face slapping, consensual but not safe or sane, rough sex, degradation, dom/sub, dirty talk, spitting, angst notes - uploading to tumblr as well as ao3 bcs yay, but you can also read it there if you like!

The sweltering heat hasn't let up all day even as the evening comes, and yet the peak of summer has yet to arrive. Adding to the feverish haze of it all, Commander Reyes decided to make two firmly annoying decisions. Firstly, that training would be conducted outside today, and secondly, that it would be an all-day session. And when he said all day, he meant all day.

Luckily for him, he's foregone his usual hoodie in favor of a tight-fighting tank top that's molded to his abs, showing off his bare arms. His tan skin is covered in the barest sheen of sweat, unlike the cloying, soaked fabric that clings to your own body. You, and the rest of Blackwatch around you, continue to work away—pushing your bodies to the limit in the hopes of appeasing your scrutinous Commander.

Daring to dream that this lap would be the last, you force yourself through the muscle cramp and rapidly forming blisters, until you reach that point just in front of Commander Reyes. When you fall to the dirt unceremoniously, you heave to catch your breath, and hope that he'll take pity on you. For a moment, your vision even crosses into blurred territory, as you can't quite make out exactly who collapsed onto the ground beside you.

"One more, Agents." His voice drawls, laced with a tone that just screams bastard.

You can't help but roll your eyes.

Maybe it's the delirium from the heat, or the part of you that can't escape the need to be his bitch—but a sense of bravery, or brattiness, rises within you. "Fuck off, Reyes." You growl.

Maybe, just maybe, he'll only make you scrub the bathrooms for a week or two. You dare to look up, just in time to watch his arms fold across his broad chest, and his expression change to a mix of wicked amusement and anger.

"Language, Agent." He barks, his brows furrowed.

"Fuck off,  Reyes." You correct yourself, feeling proud of your quick wit.

In a few strides, his boots are hitting the ground in front of you, kicking dust up in your face. His stature towers over you, only serving to reinforce your place. "5 mile run wasn't enough for you?" He asks.

You sit back on your knees, staring up at him still. This position is one you're used to, both inside and outside of training. "If I run further, at least it'll get me away from you." You say.

Pushing yourself onto your feet in preparation for another run, you still only come up to his chest, and you swallow deeply at the reminder.

"Then it wouldn't be a punishment, would it?" He narrows his eyes threateningly, his gaze piercing straight through you. "You're mouthier than usual today. You're lucky I don't write you up for insubordination."

"Your favorite Agent? You wouldn't." Once more, you find yourself rolling your eyes straight to the back of your skull.

Luckily, Reyes seems to be going easy on you, all things told. Another lap is doable—if you just keep the comments about your bleeding heels to yourself, and Reyes doesn't ignite your own anger with his presence.

A firm hand sets a harsh slap on your back, urging your weak legs into motion to start the run once more. "I'll run this lap with you, and I want it faster than the last. Then we'll go for a sparring session straight after." He starts, his voice still gruff yet taking easily to running while conversing.

Clearly, you spoke too soon about him going easy on you.

"Maybe I can beat some sense into you."

Gritting your teeth, you refuse to rise to the occasion once more. With your head down, you focus on the run.

Just one more lap.

With the lap over, completed in a surprising silence, Reyes dismisses the rest of the group and demands you follow him. The eerie quiet of the night continues. It's almost worse than him shouting, you think.

Looking up at his face as you walk, you see his features set in a frown—his jaw clenched.

Once upon a time, you remember the way that look would spark a fire deep inside you. The messed up little part of your brain that loves this whole dynamic would spring to life, eagerly awaiting his punishment. Now, you only feel a tinge of regret, a blue feeling in your chest.

The silence he's bestowed upon you really is a curse, as the thoughts you've tried to keep down come bubbling up to the surface. You act this way because it's the only thing you know how to do day-to-day. The only way to get his attention, to connect with him. And this, as much as it hurts you, is better than nothing. Better a kiss with a fist than the peace you'd get besides.

Leading you back to the building, as you begin to navigate the corridor, a cutting feeling claws at your heart.

Things are already so messed up, but if you could just convince him—would you make it? Or just make an even bigger mess? You just wish, for once, he was taking you to his room to share the comfort of his pillows—instead of the hardness of his flesh between the sheets.

A turn you didn't expect, and before you know it he's pushing the door to the gym open, and welcoming you to the smell of sweat and hot rubber.

"I didn't know you meant that 'sparring session' comment literally..." You say. The only thing that aches more than your heart is your muscles, and your need, only just.

"Really?" Reyes pulls up the ropes and waits for you, an impatient air rolling off him. "Get in the ring."

Taking his offer, you climb onto the canvas as you try to steady your breathing. "Wow, okay."

Up come your palms, forming a barrier in front of your face, and with it, the urge within you to fight.

Like a true predator, he stalks round the ring before coming to a stop in front of you, his own hands rising. "It's a good job Morrison doesn't give me a choice in having you on the team." He snarls, going straight in with a jab.

Physically, you're the first to make a move, advancing toward him. Clearly too slow, as he finds it all too easy to back away. "Why's that?" Your attempts to make a move on him are easily smacked away. "You'd die of boredom bossing around anyone that actually complies." He might see through you, but the truth is, it cuts both ways.

"Brat tamer, through and through." You continue, releasing your snark, and with it whatever strength you have left inside you—as you summon the burning embers of your spirit and push into Reyes with everything you have, until he's toppled onto the canvas.

"I must be less successful than I thought." His eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he looks up with a devilish grin that eats away at your heart.

Stepping onto his chest, you push down slightly, seeing the flames of hell alight in his eyes. "It's the masochist inside you, a glutton for punishment."

A harsh grip on your ankle is his first point of contact before he uses his brute strength to reverse your positions, and you're pinned underneath him without a hope of freeing yourself. Winded and immobile. His hands move to pin your wrists, his crotch positioned perfectly above yours. "I'm not the masochist here." He growls, the wicked smirk still on his lips.  

"No, just a power hungry sadist." You sigh, feeling wounded by the truth of your own words.

Gabriel's eyes shift, as his lips come close to your ear, his hot breath fans across your skin and his voice drops low. "Is that what you think I am?"

Arousal courses through you, battling away all other feelings beside the bratiness inside you. You know you could work yourself into a fever pitch just laying here, feeling the press of his hardness into your core.

"You're a dirty, perverted old man." You snarl.

"And what kind of fucked-in-the-head little girl does that make you?"

"The one that gets your dick hard." You quip back.

"Shut up, or I'll shut you up." And with that he snaps, his hand coming across your face in a harsh sting before his fingers force their way into your mouth.

A part of you screams to bite, a part of you pleads with you to obey. Maybe that's it. If you drop the act, if you just obey, maybe things will be different. You feel your rational mind slipping away even quicker than usual, the submissive haze taking over as you give into your instincts and suck .

"That's it. I know you, inside and out, slut." He sighs, and grinds down into you as you lavish his fingers with your tongue. "It's so much better when you just behave."

The beautiful sound of his approval causes a moan to push past the digits, as your eyes roll back in pleasure—a complete contrast to earlier. He pulls away and stands, leaving you whining at his withdrawal before he grabs you by the chin, pulling you up as you scramble to get into position. Your glossy eyes gaze up at him, filled with need at his commanding stance—you're on your knees, acting perfectly submissive.  

"Good girl." He growls, his voice a low timbre that sends shivers down your spine. "Since you've got such a big mouth, this is perfect for you." He grasps at his semi in a macho display, palming it through his trousers.

"Yes Commander." You sigh, unfocused, staring at his package with reverence.

He smirks. "Take me out." Then, he leans back slightly to admire the view as you fiddle with the button of his combat trousers—needy, trembling fingers struggling to pull down the zipper as the fabric strains.

Your eyes are glued to the soft cotton clinging to his erection, perfectly framing his dangerously thick length. There's a spot in the fabric that's already dampened.

Contrasting such size, your dainty fingers slip under the fabric, pulling down the underwear and trousers just enough to free him from his confines. How many times have you seen this exact sight? And yet still, you drool in anticipation and gaze upon it with wonder.

"No words when you're faced with this thick cock, huh?" He grips the base, slapping the flesh against your cheek as your mouth instinctually falls open, your tongue poking out. He slaps his cock there too.

"No, Commander." You sigh, your words constrained by your stuck out tongue.

Gabriel doesn't take long, the title spurring him on as he quickly guides his cock into your mouth for you to eagerly suck. "Fuck." He sighs, as you worship the head with your lips and tongue. "That mouth always feels so good."

You feel your thoughts slip further away as you focus on pleasing him—putting all your skill and practice into making him sigh. With so many of your little trysts behind you, you know the pressure he likes, the little tongue flicks that drive him crazy. Doing one such flick, you see his eyes roll back in his skull, and you desperately chase such a look, or the way his sighs turn into growls.

"Fuuuck." He groans, before moving his hands to your head—securing you as he pushes further in. Your natural response is to sputter and choke, as it moves from a blowjob to a facefuck.

Gabriel—Commander Reyes—is completely in control now.

He laces his fingers in your hair, tugging at the roots to piston your head back and forth on his cock at a brutal speed. As he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, you whine around the thick flesh as even after all this time, you struggle to take his girth as it splits your jaw and stretches your throat.

But he knows you can take it.

His hand falls to your neck, using his grip to hold you in place as he forces himself in to the hilt, and releases a deep, filthy groan. You can't help but moan too, no matter how hard it is. There's barely any room for noise since your throat is so stuffed full. Even if the discomfort outweighed the pleasure, hell would freeze over before you'd tell him—before you'd risk losing his favor.

Like this, you're useful. Like this, you have his full and undivided attention.

Each time he pushes you, looking to break the unbreakable, because each time you'll come back to him. You'll come back wanting more. His pull is magnetic, his hold complete.

He fucks your face with fervor, the sounds of your wet mouth sloppily taking him in reverberates around the empty gym. Each slick suck, each burst of drool seeping from your mouth down his length—making you even messier.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day." He snarls, the sound laced with a hint of cruel laughter. He pulls you back off his cock, and you gasp for air—also leaving a thick coat of saliva connecting the two of you.

"You've made quite the mess." Gabriel coos, spitting onto your face with little regard. "Let me help." His rough hand comes to rub the spit across your face, smearing the barely-there coat of mascara across your cheeks.

"Can't talk back like this, can you?" He hisses, pushing his dick past your puffy lips, back into your mouth.

Once more, he returns to pushing into the back of your mouth until his dick disappears down your throat, and meets complete resistance—until tears form in the corner of your eyes, and your throat begins to constrict. Looking up at Gabriel, you can see his head thrown back in pleasure, his teeth bared as an animalistic growl rips through his throat. His guiding hand bobs you up and down his length, as you hollow your cheeks to increase his enjoyment.

That's all that matters—his enjoyment, his pleasure.

His pace relents, opting to go slowly as you focus on sucking and licking. Working your tongue in the perfect way, pushing him as close to the edge as you can. As you work away, his head hangs low, and your gaze upon his face is unwavering. His eyes slip shut as he gains a beautiful, blissed-out look—appearing peaceful, almost angelic.

Your slower pace allows you to take the time to admire his chiseled jaw, his plump lips, his pretty eyelashes.

You'd be lying if you said his dominant treatment didn't make you drip—you can already feel the fabric of your panties clinging to you.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment—embracing the feeling, embracing the cock-drunk haze that surrounds your mind. All you want to do is suck, and suck, suck. Swallow as much of him as you can take, taste his delicious pre-cum, get to hear more of those heavenly, primal noises he makes.

"Maybe I should do this in front of the whole team, show them what a little fucktoy you are for me." He purrs, and your eyes snap back up to him as they hang on every word, eagerly awaiting what degradation will come next. "Show them that you're just-" His hips and words stutter as he feels the pressure around his shaft. "-Talk." "Just a desperate, submissive, little slut trying to play with the big boys."

You can feel how doe-like and blown open your eyes are, as you obediently take him in and internalize his truths.

"But you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" He chuckles, though it's broken by ragged breaths. "Having everyone know you're the Commander's personal fleshlight. "

That word rattles around your brain, as your body slackens, the only definition in your temptingly curved spine. Your arms hang limply, not protesting the rough treatment of your face.

"You're such fucking-" He stills as he hits the back of your throat, your eyes bulging as you begin to gag. "-Hard work." He sighs, before pulling you completely off his cock once more. Your lips are glazed along with your eyes, that are caught in his intense gaze. "Useful for this at least." He slips back inside you, picking up a relentless pace as he fucks your face.

"This," He pushes into your throat, then pulls out. In, out. In, out. Holding you in each position for a few moments, exercising his complete control. "This is why I keep you around."

Your chest clenches, yet so does your pussy—as each sinful, mean word makes you fall deeper and deeper down this crazy rabbit hole, despite cutting to the bone.

As he continues, he falls fairly silent—no longer whispering filth. Instead, the sounds of his deep groans and your sloppy, wet mouth fill the room once more. It's music to both of your ears, a nasty duet of pleasured growls and a well-fucked hole.

Gabriel pulls out quickly, his dick hanging temptingly in front of your mouth, yet he dips down to rip your sports bra down your body. Your breasts quickly pop out the top, perky nipples exposed to the suffocating, warm air, as the string of saliva already snaps and falls down onto your exposed chest. Next is your own combat trousers, that you struggle out of under Gabriel's scrutinous gaze. He returns to trail his swollen head across your lips, smearing more spit around your already glistening cheeks, before he commands you—"Spit."  

You add to the mess on his cock, before he plunges back inside, taking shallow thrusts that allow more spit to build—before you're quickly drooling off his cock and down to your own tits.

He pulls out once more, his hands grasping at your flesh—pulling the sports bra off fully, tugging at your panties until you get the message. They're discarded quickly, and you're left completely bare, in harsh contrast to his almost fully-clothed form. Despite your state of undress, your skin still burns red hot—cheeks flushed, a gentle sheen of sweat across your skin.

"If you want to get yourself off, grind on my boot like the filthy whore you are, Agent."

"Yes Commander." You moan, repositioning to set your core on the tip of his heavy leather boot, as Gabriel relieves you from sucking for a few moments.

Instead, his eyes fall to where you're coating his boot in your slickness, pathetically grinding for any contact you can get. As you grind away, he strokes his heavy cock slowly, teasingly, right in front of your face. "Like a bitch in heat." He smirks, his eyes darkening as he thumbs the leaking tip of his cock.

You watch, hypnotized, working yourself over his foot to the same rhythm he strokes. Mentally, you beg and plead for him to just go faster. It's a cruel bliss, getting to feel the delicious contact—yet it's not enough. It's not fast enough, it's not his fingers, it's not his cock .

A grin splits Gabriel's face as he realizes your obedient game, and pulls you back to him, urging you to suck as you continue to grind.

The more eager you suck, the closer you get. The more you submit to him and take his cock, the more pleasure you feel. It isn't long before the knot in your stomach grows, and you push closer to the edge.

Gabriel knows you like the back of his own hand, knows that the way your hips stutter means you're right there. He tips his foot up teasingly, giving you more contact to push against as he urges you on. "You're there, aren't you?"

"Mhmm, mhmm." You moan around him.

"Do it, come for me." He growls. "Come for your commander."

His words send you reeling—bursting over the edge into blinding pleasure—once more sealing your own fate. The more you come to this treatment, the more you crave it. The vicious cycle continues. You desperately try to keep Gabriel's length in your mouth as you moan, but it's not long before he takes over again.

Nothing makes his cock harder than making you come to your own degradation.

His pace quickens, as his rhythm and noises turn primal. His hands grip to keep you in place as his punishing movements prove you to be doll-like—limp, as you're subject to his every whim and movement.

"Take every inch of this dick." He grunts.

His stormy, lidded eyes stare down at you, a wicked smirk curling onto his lips as a deep groan rumbles in his chest. "That's it, suck me dry."  He whines, as his movements of your head changes. Instead of pulling you up and down the length, he insists on remaining deep in your throat, not allowing you any escape. "Take my fucking cum." With those final words, his thrusts escalate one more time as he spills his hot, sticky seed straight down your throat—forcing you to swallow every drop as eagerly as you can.

Gabriel pulls out of your mouth with one final, slick pop. His hand quickly reaches down to wipe the trail of saliva away from your lips and his cock. He hesitates for a moment before tucking himself back in with hiss, as you remain kneeling, relishing being able to breathe as you like. His other hand comes to comb through your hair, gently petting your head. Instinctually, you move closer to his touch.

After being the only time you get affection.

"What did I do to piss you off today? Or was it really just the running?" He asks, his voice cutting through your thoughts. You suspect he's looking upon your face as your eyes slip shut.

"All the running." You start, intending on stopping there, but finding the haze in your mind keeps your lips loose. "I've barely been sleeping since the last mission." Your admission is weak, and you don't dare open your eyes to see what you expect is a disgusted expression on his face.

"Take the day off tomorrow, okay?" Still maintaining his position over you, he reaches to stroke your cheek. It's laced with sweetness, and yet still, you're beneath him.

"Thanks." You sigh, opening your eyes to see none of the disgust you expected.

"Speak to me like that again in front of everyone, and you'll find your ass back in Overwatch. I'll make sure of it." He growls, his voice dropping low.

"Really?" You whisper, taken aback by the notion.

"Really." He cracks, his face breaking into a cheeky grin. The realization of his sick sense of humor, at least lets your heart settle somewhat. After one final caress, he pulls away and climbs out of the ring—heading to the window to let the fresh evening breeze roll in, and the scent of sex roll out.

"Where are you going?" You ask, trying your hardest to hide the need in your voice—the other kind of need.

"Shower, then bed." He replies matter of factly, almost automatically.

It shouldn't surprise you, since he never sticks around, but it still cuts. "Okay..."

His boots pound against the floor as he makes his way over to the door, and you watch as he leaves you there naked—yet suddenly, he freezes and turns. "Are you okay?"  

"I'm fine." You say instinctively, which is clearly not the truth—but keeping secrets at least means keeping him.

You watch his face with rapt attention, watching his expression shift through a series of unreadable emotions, before he settles on a more neutral look. "OK. I was serious, I don't want to see you tomorrow."

"Right, night." You reply, throat closing up as you finally collapse backwards, giving your knees some much needed relief.

"Sleep well, Agent." His voice drifts over to you once more. "That's an order." His eyes remain fixed on you, yet you return his stare blankly.

After a moment, the suffocating air dissipates as he finally takes his leave, the gym door slamming closed behind him as the sound bounces off the walls. As you sit there, desperately trying to collect yourself, your mind drifts back to the thought that's been trying to burst through this entire time. The worst thing you could say, the worst thing he could hear. The last thing this fucked up dynamic needs.

You push your ravaged throat, your words coming out as a whisper into the silence. "I love you, Gabriel Reyes."

Night after night has been spent restless lately. Between the turmoil of your mind and the continuous heat of the Swiss Summer—all you seem to have done lately is toss and turn. There haven't been any visits punctuating the nights of unease.

If you've been having trouble sleeping in your fairly decent Overwatch-room bed, you're uncertain how camping in the woods is going to help at all.

Commander Reyes has spent most of the summer working you all to the bone. After one particularly brutal mission, a regime of endless training has followed, and many nights of personal duties too. Until lately. After the night in the gym, you've not seen him outside of training—he hasn't approached at all, and it's not something you would ever find yourself doing. He comes to you to fulfil his needs, not the other way around.

The peace has been a blessing and a curse, just as you suspected—a double-edged sword of yearning and relief. Said relief is coming to an end, as the doors to the building slide shut behind you. With your pack on your back, you head out to the field. In the distance you can already see the small crowd of your comrades—gathered round with similar packs and equipment tucked under their arms.

"Nice of you to show up, Agent." His voice calls out to you as you approach, and you shiver. It's the first time he's addressed you directly in weeks.

"Sorry I'm late." You answer demurely, and Reyes returns his attention to the group.

Despite spending the last few weeks subdued, your fellow Blackwatch agents are still taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.

"You doin' okay, darlin'?" Cassidy appears by your side, a pack on his back and cooler under his arm.

"Fine." You respond automatically, feeling sorrowful at how much you seem to be saying that lately. "Looking forward to this, in some ways." Cassidy seems satisfied with the smile you offer him, as you turn back to the group too.

"With everyone here, we're headed about an hour that way." Reyes gestures with his hand, pointing in the direction of the trees as people nod their assent. The group sets off, with Reyes leading the way down the trail.

When Reyes announced his 'relaxation-slash-team-bonding' activity, you were initially filled with dread—but surprisingly, a camping weekend in the nearby woods didn't sound too terrible. Reyes said he'd scouted out a campsite, and declared, in a somewhat menacing way, that it was going to be a good time. You haven't seen his more light-hearted side in quite some time, but planning the getaway seems to have given him a relaxing focus.

Silently following in the back of the group, Cassidy doesn't stray far from your side, with Genji close by too.

"I hope to get some meditation done." Genji comments, sounding pleasantly eager for the prospect.

"Am gonna drink all of these bottles, then line 'em up and use them for target practice." Cassidy announces, with a smirk, tapping on the cooler.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, Cass." You laugh, feeling a weight lifting as you chat with your friends.

He turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. "What's your plan then, Miss Relaxation?"

Your heart soars as you think of your plans. "Maybe find a creek to splash in, tie up the hammock I brought, and just relax."

"That does sound good." Genji comments. "And you definitely deserve it." He smiles.

It's then it hits you—the crushing guilt. How are you going to tell your friends your plan? How are you going to tell them about the transfer request form sitting in your drafts, just waiting to be sent?

You shake your head, desperate to push those thoughts aside. For now, nothing exists outside of this weekend.

The woody scent, the sound of birds, the drawl of Cassidy and the sweet tones of Genji. The late-afternoon sun beats down on the trees, casting dappled shadows that you weave through as you head deeper into the forest. Some of the other agents are laughing and joking, already enjoying their time off with high-energy, high-spirited antics. Instead you're taking things slow, admiring your surroundings and taking things in. Only occasionally indulging Cole's attempts at silly conversation. It's easy to just enjoy the journey, as time slips away.

It's not until you almost crash into someone in front that you are snapped out of your thoughts.

The trees ahead give way to a clearing by the side of a babbling creek—a bundle of supplies already waiting—making for a perfect camping spot.

Reyes sure knows how to pick them.

"We'll get tents and a canopy over here. Not forecast to rain, but best to be prepared." He announces, still falling into his natural leadership despite the 'time off'.

You'd already agreed to share a tent with Genji and Cassidy—on the proviso that Cassidy doesn't spoon either of you. While he reluctantly agreed, you were actually secretly hopeful that despite being in an old sleeping bag on a lumpy woodland floor, the sense of safety they provide would actually help you drift off with ease.

"Well, pass it here, Genji." Cass insists, beckoning Genji to pass over the tent.

"Absolutely not." He replies curtly, instead approaching you. "If we leave it to you, we will be sleeping under the stars."

"Though that does sound nice..." You comment wistfully, imagining the scene.

A childish huff leaves the ninja. "I expected you to be on my side."

"Oh, I agree with your assessment, but it wouldn't be the worst thing, is all." Pushing Cassidy aside, you direct him to a nearby stump. "Cass, you sit and look pretty, okay?"

"That I can do." He tips his hat to you both, taking a seat.

As you and Genji work on the tent in harmony, erecting poles and hammering pegs, you dare to glance around. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you can't help but wonder where the Commander will be sleeping for the night—undoubtedly alone. Closest to the head of the clearing and a little away from the others, he works away at setting up a tent of his own. Of course, should anyone, or anything come, he'll be the first line of defense.

When Gabriel's eyes connect with yours, you rush back to the present.

Desperately looking away, you try to busy yourself with another part of the tent building as panic rises within you. The look in his eyes was indecipherable, but like his general attitude lately, it was probably indifference. Your chest clenches—as you settle into the bitter thoughts you've become even more familiar with over the past few weeks. Once you stopped acting up, playing into his game—his attention waned. Exactly as you had suspected. It seems obeying wasn't enough after all.

"I think that pole is the wrong way." Genji comments quietly, beforing adding, "Sorry." He offers a slight, yet warm smile, as he seems to sense the turmoil inside of you, yet doesn't push any further.

Nodding, you turn the pole the right way, and with the final touches, the tent is ready. Between the summer sun, the hilly climb, and your existing fatigue, you actually feel sleepy for once. "Do you mind if I set up my hammock, try and get some rest?" You ask the men with a tired smile.

"Go fer it." Cassidy comments, as Genji nods.

You quickly grab the net from your backpack and set off in search of a perfect pair of trees.   It doesn't take you long to find two close by that are the perfect distance apart, and luckily their branches cast the perfect shadows to shade your face yet leave your body in the glowing sun.

Tucking up in the hammock, you stare up at the canopy of the trees—the leaves and branches swaying, commanded by the whim of a gentle wind. Your eyes flutter closed, and before you know it, you're drifting off.

The smell of barbecue greets you upon waking, a rumbling stomach urging you out of the comfort of the hammock. The sun is mostly set, inkiness starting to overtake the sky. The campsite is more lively, as your fellow agents have started drinking in earnest—clinking glasses accompany the background music and laughter rippling through the group.

Wandering back over to the clearing, you see an area set up with drinks and snacks, as well as a few agents crouched over disposable barbecues, transferring the food to paper plates.

"Sleepyhead, over here!" Cassidy's voice draws your attention, as he and Genji patiently wait nearby in the hopes of getting food quickly. Joining them, it doesn't take long for you and the rest of the group to be served, as everyone starts to tuck into the food.

A sense of quiet falls over the group—doubly so when Commander Reyes stands with a bottle of beer in his hand.

"To Blackwatch." He toasts, a wry smile on his face.

"To Blackwatch." The group responds, but the words don't find their way out of your mouth in any convincing way.

The night draws on, some of the rowdiness winding down as people fall into a relaxed ambiance. Crickets keep you company, as the glowing moonlight looks down upon you all. The sporadically placed lanterns light each other's faces, revealing to each other rosy cheeks and fond smiles. Some sing along to the small radio, playing whatever chilled out music is on the playlist—others tell stories while some listen.

Reyes sits silent, you notice, taking long sips of a beer and staring off into the distance. He hasn't been mirthful in quite some time—but part of you still hopes he finds peace in the quiet and friendly company.

Sleepiness finds you once more, and you decide to head to your tent in the hopes of taking advantage of the feeling once more while it lasts. Perhaps you can enjoy more of the night tomorrow.

You wake to an arm around your waist—Cassidy's promise broken, yet you can't find it within yourself to be at all mad.

Now, the wide awake feeling is back, and you can already feel the rising restlessness. It's not something you want to subject your friends to. Wiggling out from under a heavy arm and the fabric of your sleeping bag, you make your way to the tent entrance and slip out into the summer air.

It's milder than the day, yet still carries an unmistakable warmth within it. The humidity and the coverage of the trees keeps everything at a comfortable temperature, even into what you assume is the early hours of the morning.

You venture into the center of the clearing, surprised to see a sole lantern still lit —even more surprised to see the shadows flickering across the Commander's face. You're about to turn tail and flee back to your tent, but his rough eyes cut through the darkness and connect with yours.

"Can't sleep?"

"I already got a little." You comment, wanting to appear less like an insomniac than you actually are.

"Sit." He says, and while it sounds like a suggestion, he should know you'll obey.

Uncertainly, you close the distance between the two of you and plop down beside him, keeping a respectable distance and leaning against the log-turned-backrest.

"I was surprised you came." He comments, and you can feel his gaze on you as you stare straight ahead.

"Yeah?" You reply absentmindedly, eyes fixated on a shadow in the distance like it's the most fascinating thing.

He's silent for a moment. "You haven't been yourself lately."

His words make you bitter in an instant. Translation: You haven't been acting on your baser, fucked up instincts lately. You haven't been crawling to him, begging for his attention. That makes you not yourself?

"I suppose not." You comment dryly after a vitriolic laugh.

"Come here." He commands.

Your eyes finally flicker to him, assessing him silently as you consider your next move. Can you stand to be any closer?

"That's an order." He adds, playing the Commander card.

You shuffle closer until you can feel his heat by your side, his arm brushing against yours. He offers his shoulder as a rest, which you take, albeit reluctantly. Strange.

"If the sleep issue is that bad, there are things they can give you." He whispers, a strange sense of softness to his voice.

When you're away from him, everything will be fine. "I'm sure I'll be fine soon." You say, and you actually believe it.

He rests his own head on top of yours, setting his beer on the ground beside him. "Sleep has been avoiding me too lately."

"Can you blame it?" You comment back without thinking, a smile creeping onto your face.

"No." Reyes chuckles, and you feel the vibration through your body. A moment passes as his laughter dies down. "I've missed this."

"Missed what?"

"Your big mouth." He grins, yet the comment burns you.

Bolting upright, your brows furrow wildly as your voice fills with offense. "Oh, of course you have."

"I didn't mean it like that." He frowns. Reyes' hand finds its way to your jaw in a flash, his fingers grasping hard and holding you in place. "But I can, if you like."

You have no choice but to meet his stormy gaze—see the way his gorgeous eyes have darkened. It's easy to see it in him, and feel it in yourself, the way you both shift—from a commander and his subordinate, to a man and his plaything.

"I—" You try to speak, but words fail you. The harsh press into your skin already ebbs away at any resistance you have.

The safe word you negotiated long ago doesn't come close to falling off your lips. If you were sensible, it would. If you were sensible, you'd but a stop to this here and now, not rip apart the rules you'd put in place for yourself. But you're far from any sense, you're in a different realm altogether, where you'll do anything to get another hit—to reach the high that is submitting to this titan of a man.

Last time wasn't the last after all. Maybe this will be your closure.

"Tell me you haven't been craving it too." His voice is low, in volume and tone. That way of speaking you haven't heard for so long now.

You have craved him, craved this. The dangerous dance you can't seem to leave, walking a fine line of something so easily breakable.

"Fuck you." You whisper, more sadness than anger in your voice.

Gabriel's brow furrows, not spared from the anger himself. "Fuck me?"

Your eyes flicker away, opting to stare at the ground instead of his face. You want to fight, but you don't have it in you anymore, a hollow feeling taking over in his absence. "You're the one who cast me aside."

He pulls his hand away in an instant—the pain abates and is replaced by relief, as well as a sweeping cold. "I thought since you're thinking of leaving, you'd appreciate the space to make your decision." His tone is cutting, clearly bitter, and you hate the way your chest tightens in response.

You know you're losing your nerve. He wasn't supposed to know already.

"How do you—" You whisper, confused, yet he interrupts you—invading your space.

"Have you made up your mind?" His eyes sparkle with something dangerous, his jaw clenched hard.

You take a deep breath, time seeming to slow as the seconds tick by. You try desperately to keep your nerve. Will he view you as weak for leaving? Will he even care? "I have." You say, through gritted teeth.

His nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing as he already seems to know your answer.

Time freezes—those ticking seconds dragging on even longer. Your throat goes dry as he stares you down, and you await whatever may come. Judging by the look on his face, a typical Reyes reaming is coming.

"Reyes—" You begin to speak, trying to protest, yet he's coming closer and closer. As you try to distance yourself, he continues on his prowl, crawling over in between your legs, hovering above you. Feeling the heat of his body so close continues to erode your resistance even further.

Whatever comes next, you're his for the taking.

"Unmake it." He snarls, before he snaps into action. His hand wraps around your throat, his body leveraging yours to overpower you and slam you into the dirt.  "You're not going anywhere." His voice drops lower as he stares you down, and you find yourself frozen.

The next move he makes takes you completely by surprise, as his mouth crashes with yours. It's hard to react as quickly as he clearly needs you to, as his lips roughly press against your own—a sweet pain of clashing teeth and smooth lips. An overwhelming sensation of completeness settles within you, a puzzle piece slides into place.

Gabriel never kisses you—and now a part of you is left wondering what he's trying to prove, trying to assert. You return his kisses as best you can, your hands fisting in his fitted shirt as he forces his way into your mouth. His tongue is aggressive, wanting.

"This is where you belong." He growls.

You're uncertain if he means Blackwatch, or beneath him. Your mind screams— both.  Every cell in your body knows it belongs with him from the way it reacts to his presence and his touch.

He dips down for another demanding kiss, melting you further. The way your soft lips seem to glide against his, the expert way he moves his tongue—these are the kinds of kisses you wanted all along. Yet he left you craving for so long. He parts, eyes connecting with yours once more, and you can feel the soft, dazed look you're giving him. Your head is spinning—a whirlwind of pleasure, yearning, and confusion.

His hands release your throat, roughly trailing from the bare neck of your skin past your barely-there top and down to your exposed thighs. Those same hands grip greedily at your flesh, carving his touch into your skin. His eyes no longer meet yours, as they roam hungrily across your body, laid defenseless beneath his own.

"How long?" He begins, swallowing hard. "How long have you been thinking of leaving?"  

"A few weeks." You answer honestly, noticing the familiar tick in his jaw. Since the last time, is the part you don't say, that he seems to hear anyway.

"Hold on to me." He says, waiting for you to scoop your arms around his neck before he pulls you up with him. Effortlessly, he carries you away from the clearing—your legs and arms clinging to him as you're taken to whatever fate he has in store for you.

You slip back to earth as your back is slammed into a tree, and you're set back down onto your legs. You know what's coming next.

It's not the time or place to undress, and you both know it. His hands scramble to your button, then to force down your panties and shorts off in one swift push. It then forces its way to your cunt, rough fingers sliding past your thighs and into your wetness to curl against your insides, as his other hand works on freeing himself from his confines. His arms wrap around your legs again, before you're rammed against the tree trunk and pinned between him once more.

Lining himself up at your hole, he teases slightly, coating himself in your wetness as he watches your face—observes the way your lips part and the soft breaths push past your lips. The divine stretch of your entrance is hampered only by the scratch of bark against your back, yet any of it fades from your mind as he buries himself deep.

His eyes pin you like his body does, his brows furrowing in pleasure, his intense gaze unwavering from yours.

A storm of emotion swirls within, something consuming you haven't seen before—something you can't quite describe. And yet you're entranced, lost in the look he's giving you and the feeling of him filling you.

Stretching you. Shaping you.

His hips start to move, a hammering display of brute strength and physical prowess, as you're lost to his dominance—completely surrendered to him as he takes you—hard and fast. No one else can touch you like this—you don't need to even try to know it. What use is love, if it means sacrificing this?

You desperately cling to his neck as his hips move at a relentless pace. His hands slip to your throat once more, one wrapping itself around, the other poking his thumb into your mouth. Unable to help yourself, you lick and suck at the digit, and hold his gaze intently. Like this, you find it so easy to be consumed by that haze once more.

Gabriel's movements are perfect—a kind of precision you'll only find in him. In a man that knows your body like he does, a man that's molded you to react so well to his touch. His cock buried within you is a tight squeeze—one that always starts as a burn before giving way to the most divine feeling, one of being completely stuffed full. Gabriel always has to work to fit himself inside you completely, being blessed with both thickness and length.

Sometimes it hurts, but it hurts so good.

His hold on your neck helps leverage you up and down his thick cock, returning you to the feeling of being a little doll—his  precious  little thing. Why did you think you could give this up?

He pistons you up and down on his length, and returns to kissing once more. You sigh into his heavenly lips. While he's just as insistent, the pain is absent, as he focuses on using his tongue to swallow your escalating moans.

"Look at me." He groans.

You're unsure when your eyes screwed shut, but they snap open upon hearing his command.

His gaze is burning. "You're not going anywhere. Understood?" He repeats those words, a desperate coercion.

His pace increases, bouncing you up and down with fury. Perhaps if he just tries hard enough, he can fuck this stupid idea of thinking you could survive without him out of your head. Perhaps if he fucks you like his life depends on it, you'll crumble completely into the dependency he craves.

"Yeah, yeah—fuck." You babble mindlessly, feeling like it's hard to think straight, never mind speak.

"When that Overwatch pretty boy told me you'd been asking around for a transfer—" His grip on your throat tightens, stealing your air and centering your focus on him. "—fuck." Like a man possessed, his hips buck wildly. His eyes bore into yours—as if he's trying to get the madness to take you, too. "Do you think you can replace me?"

To you, his words sound severe and threatening. Only he knows of the deep insecurity within. The idea of you with another Commander makes him burn. He wasn't strong enough to maintain propriety and rank to resist taking what he wanted, to resist giving in to the dark thoughts—what chance would anyone else stand? As soon as they saw just how much you needed a guiding hand, a dominant figure, they'd abuse their position too.

"N-no, never!" You whine, answering his interrogation—the noises leaving your throat make it sound as if your brain is going with them.  "I need you."  

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes still unwavering as he changes his rhythm. His hips start to roll, moving slowly, but just as deep. "No puedo vivir sin ti." He punctuates his words with one particularly deep thrust, burying himself right into your depths and holding himself there. "Sin esto."  

Any hope you had of deciphering his words is lost. His hips continue to roll, as his head drops to the dip of your neck, his mouth working to quickly devour the skin there. The teasing starts with the lips, before his teeth find their way onto your skin, pressing down and marking their path across your bared flesh.

"Mine. Mine." He growls, the devil within him taking over. The rumble of his voice, the possessive nature of his words, and the brush of his facial hair across the tender mark cause you to shiver.

"Yours." You sigh, head dizzy with pleasure, unable to contemplate even responding with anything else. It comes so naturally. You've been his for the longest time—his possession of you only now being spoken of doesn't mean it hasn't always been there.

"Say it louder." His voice is a deep groan as his pace picks up again, the slap of his skin on yours escalating and echoing around the woods. "Let them hear you." He commands.

"I belong to you, Commander." You moan, unable to hold back the volume of the declaration as he viciously fucks it out of you. "I belong to you, Gabriel." The second sentence is a whisper, murmured as you're completely lost in the moment.

As the pleasure of him fucking you rips through you, your hands desperately claw at his back, overwhelmed with feeling. Through the thin fabric, you can feel the scars left behind by others. You battle with the feeling of wanting to leave your own, of wanting to mark him like he's marked you.

"I want you to come on my cock." Gabriel demonstrates his wish by grinding into you, his cock pushing in deeper as he gives your clit delicious friction.

The dizzying combination makes you babble your assent, as you focus on reaching your peak and obeying his command.  "'m already close." You sigh, breath ragged as you're fucked into the hard trunk.

"Gonna finish with you." He nips at your neck again, sucking into the same tender spot and undoubtedly leaving a mark. "Gonna fill you up and—" His hips stutter for a moment, his grasp tightening. "—claim you."

The word alone could send you over the edge, but combined with his complete possession of your body, you find yourself flying over the edge with a scream ripping from your throat. "I'm coming!"

"Come on my cock, hermosa.  Remember where you belong."  He whispers in your ear as you spasm and flutter. "Fuck!" As you clench around his length, dealing with the aftermath of your own high, Gabriel's hips shove his cock deep within you one last time, stretching you wide as he spills inside you, coating your insides.A strangled growl pushes past his lips, sending sensitive shivers throughout you. "Mine." The way you're pressed together so tight allows your sensitive cunt to feel every spasm, notice every drop spurting into you, and the way he fucks his cum deeper inside you.

After a moment of regaining your breath while still desperately clinging to Gabriel, he sets you down on shaky legs, waiting for you to be steady before he pulls away.

"I'll be right back." He grunts, tucking himself away and jogging to his tent, before returning with a small cloth. You simply watch as he wipes away the mess, cleaning up your swollen hole with tenderness. He helps you get dressed without a word, kissing you on the forehead before setting himself down on the nearby grass, and patting the ground for you to join him once more.

"Seems like no one woke up." He comments, as you take your seat beside him. Gabriel reclines back into the grass, his hand cradling his head as he looks at you expectantly—waiting to take your place upon his chest.

When you blink at him in confusion, he holds out his hand. You take it, and he pulls you close—you easily find his chest as your new pillow. In a matter of moments, he's undone you, wrecked your plans, gotten under your skin once more. He's baited you artfully, switched on you, then switched again.

You settle into him, nuzzling into his neck as his hand finds his way to your head, immediately playing with your hair. Once more, you finally get the softness, but only after the suffering.

"Or, they're just scared of coming out and facing your wrath for interrupting us." You mumble sleepily, eyes fluttering shut as comfort washes over you.

"It would be quite the wrath." He chuckles, a much softer sound than you're used to.

Something unspoken hangs in the air, something neither of you dare to address.

There's no escape from this back and forth—but why would you ever want there to be? Maybe the feeling that it's still not enough could be enough to break you again. But it is enough, for now at least. He needs you—but not in the way you want to be needed. The words you'd longed to hear for so long, surely they were just a product of the moment—carnal desires rather than chaste ones. Despite him saying more, you know even less.

You feel your limp body pulled closer to his chest, as you fade in and out of consciousness. Despite the occasional moment of clarity, you can't find it within yourself to move, or even open your eyes again. You feel him move, picking you up as he begins to walk. All you crave is to drift off on his chest once more. Even now you feel his warmth, feel surrounded by his smell.

You're barely holding on to the waking world as your body is laid down gently. The rustling of tent fabric is barely there, your head feeling like it's underwater.

The words that come are far away, but you swear you hear them nevertheless—drifting into your mind, deep into your subconscious. You must be slipping into a pleasant dream, of niceties and mythical things that will never come to be. He whispers lightly into the darkness, his voice just sneaking in.

"Don't go. I love you."

#gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #reaper overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #gabriel reyes

[https-furina]

✎ are you drunk?

ft. venti x fem!reader

w.c. to be added

content: very short fluff content (more like a drabble honestly), mentions of alcohol, i’ll be fr this is based on an image i saw on pinterest so there’s not really much, established relationship, human!reader, kinda crack-ish, not proofread + not edited

you were more than accustomed to venti’s way of life by now - you’d been with him over a year, somehow. you’re not entirely sure who was putting up with who during times like these, when you’re stood under the dim yellowing light of the oil lamp in your shared kitchen, your hand clasping a glass of cool water. mondstadt was in the peak of its summer, humid and a little insufferable.

however you were also completely aware of venti’s true nature. he opened up about it one night (you had to debate if he was sober first) when you questioned him about his vision, the one that dangles on his hip and flaunts in front of non-vision wielders. “it’s fake,” the words came out his mouth before he could second think them. he remembers you staring at him in confusion - you had literally seen him use his anemo abilities how could his vision be fake? that’s when he sighed, clasping one of your hands in his as he uttered nothing but the truth, telling you his deepest secret of being an archon.

the hands of the clock tick in the silence as you leaned onto the kitchen counter. you wondered momentarily if you should throw on your shoes and hunt the mondstadt city taverns for your boyfriend but suddenly there’s a rambunctious amount of noise outside that could only belong to the archon and his two drinking buddies - kaeya alberich from the knights of favonius and sister rosaria from the cathedral, you’ve always figured she’d go into cardiac arrest if she realised the bouncy, loud mouth bard she drinks regularly with is the archon her whole occupation revolves around.

there are a few moments of solace again, their noise quietened into soft hushes with fingers pressed to their lips. your head turned towards the front door, you wondered if they’d realised the ungodly time of night they’d decided to scream one of venti’s infamous bard songs but then you heard it, almost as if it was in the wind blowing through your open kitchen window. venti is hushing them, his words slurring ever so slightly, “shhh, y/n is sleeping.” your lips curled subconsciously in a light smile, breathlessly laughing at the thought that your dearest archon had no idea you were still very much awake and waiting for him.

when the front door finally creaks open, venti is whistling a tune to himself, twirling dandelion seeds around him with a breeze - ones you knew you’d be picking up in the early hours of the morning - with a half finished bottle of wine in the other hand. turquoise eyes find yours and he’s startled, blinking as if he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or lack of sleep; is he hallucinating? huh, he could have sworn you’re usually asleep at this time.

“hey love,” you smiled at his confused state, eyes following him as he wandered into the kitchen to join you, “did you really need to bring the bottle of wine home with you?”

venti smiled sheepishly, placing it on the counter gently as if it could shatter and spill the precious liquid left inside.

“not necessarily, my windblume,” his petname for you leaves his lips in seconds, second nature to him as he lacks the energy to think, “it was attached to my hand - like a magnet!”

you hold your glass of water out to him, he debates why you’re offering this to him when he has wine right there, barely a fingertip’s grasp away.

“are you drunk?” the question is stupid, you know that but even when venti is mildly tipsy, he’ll understand the concept of water being good for him. right now, he looks bewildered you’d even suggest the idea when he could simply chug the bottle of master diluc’s infamous wine.

“no,” he pouted, lip jutted out in a feign innocence, “i’m a bard.”

© https-heizou 2023.

#꒰꒰・♡ soft pillows #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #venti x reader #afab!reader #https-heizou

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch8 Sneak Peak

The day was beautiful this morning.

With the sunlight sinking into the room through the window. The birds singing outside. Beautiful fresh smelling air. Beautiful visions of nature right outside of you looked. A bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Yellow sun. Flowers of every color. Green plants everywhere. Trees providing shade as the wind rolled by. An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature.

That was what your normal morning would've been on your day off. When you woke up at a reasonable time and woke up at a normal time. However this wasn't your normal morning. Now was it?

The wind felt nice against your skin as you walked along the dirt road and towards the pathway where the river lied. It was pretty early in the morning too. Two maybe three o'clock. A yawn bubbled up the woman's throat and made it out as a hand instinctively went to cover her mouth. Usually you would fear going outside anytime during the night but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were running out of food. All these scraps would only go so far before someone got the idea to start charging you money for that too or by the ways things were going, soon there wouldn't even be any scraps left for you to be handed. Your only hope right now was to rely on old scraps and providing the food yourself. Under the covers of darkness to avoid any suspicion.

Your door had opened quietly and you stepped out of your house and into the quiet, barren streets. The moonlight shining down and kissing your form. A shiver running down your spine from a warm breeze ghosting over your form. It would be a good night to fish. The door closed softly as you started walking towards the woods outside the town, fishing line curled up within your right hand. The moon shown down upon the forests illuminating the night bright enough for you to see and watch as the trees swayed im the warm breezes and hear the peaceful rustling of their leaves and lullabies of the crickets. It was just so beautiful and lively. You always loved doing this. Not when it was dark and scary however. It was more beautiful in the daytime. 

The sweet smells of flowers and grass were encouraging your lungs. Combined with the warmth of the summer air warming your muscles and urging them on. Both made you feel as light as a feather on your mere feet and the ground felt soft under you. It would've been nice if you weren't constantly looking side to side at every shadow that danced in the limited moonlight thanks to the grey clouds looming overhead. Step after step. Faster and faster. You fearfully started to speed walk through the pathways and around a corner of a house as soft dirt pathways turned into grassy floors of forests as you excitedly entered the beckoning woods. The moonlight being blocked out a bit because of the swaying trees and branches and clouds but you could still see perfectly fine. The river sso many people liked to fish at during summer wasn't too far from where you entered. It was just nearly a quarter of a mile into the woods. You loved coming out during these warm months and enjoying the view but ever since the disappearances -...You kept your distance. The way you found the river was walking through a bush and having to blink when a flurry of sparkling lights glared your eyes for a second.

Blinking your eyes adjusted to the beautiful and wonderful sight of a dark beautiful river reflecting the moon on its surface and sparkling as if the reflection had its own stars and consolations within its ripples. Completely untouched and waiting for you to touch its soft silence. Soft footsteps approached the gleaming water and a carbon copy of a woman appeared in the gleaming reflections. She stared up at the original mirroring the actions of the woman above. The woman's fiddled with her line and the small contacts she brought along with her. A hook with a big, juicy worm stabbed on the end of it dangled over the woman in the dark reflection before dropping into the water and rippling the reflection woman away back into the darkness of the waters.

Shaking hands fed the line lower and lower into the blackened waters. F/c eyes darting around the area. Every creaking branch. Every swaying bush. Every tall blade of grass. They all could hide a monster ready to carry you off to be their next meal. Next Bride. Next victim. The fast paced breathing was only matched by the beating of your heart in your chest. 

This was where those three girls disappeared last year, and near where the fourth girl disappeared. 

It was a stupid, STUPID idea!! ...But were you really just going to let your friends go hungry?

#demon slayer #Ocean Deep

[shakingcryingwriting]

Who would a reader a pjo×obeyme! Crossover fic? Cuz I'm writing it

It's completely plausible, especially with the theatrics of the pjo mulitverse i.e., kane chronicles and magnus chase

SUMMARY: MC is an unclaimed demigod at Camp Half-Blood, a long-term resident of Cabin 11, and a former member of Krono's army. One night, they go to bed and see Camp Half-Blood for the last time

Notes: you/yours/they/them; you are Mc, ofc; takes place somewhere between Last Olympian and Lost Hero (closer to Last Olympian); kinda went headcanon-y with the brothers but pfft who cares

Warnings: Spoilers for both obey me and Pjo; cussing I suppose

Camp Half-Blood hadn't felt this foreign since your first year.

Then, everything was fresh and shiny, new and exciting. Each cabin felt like a grand temple; each camper a hero of legend. You hadn't been able to hold back your ogling eyes and wide-ranging curiosities.

You could remember the jolt of excitement from the first time you hopped on a pegasus or the first time a faceless peer had dropped a broad sword in your hands. You could remember the terror-fueled adrenaline from your first time playing capture the flag, being ambushed by a few Athena kids while you were guarding the flag, or your first time facing a slobbering, snarling hellhound on the one quest you'd been allowed.

Now, tension flooded every crowded room and dripped from every uttered word.

The war was long since over, the shrouds long since burned. Dinner was held in the same pavilion; songs were sung around the same campfire. And yet, as fall neared ever closer, shadows still lingered:

In the eyes of war's witnesses.

In the silence between words.

In the empty spaces left behind by loved ones.

It was ever prevalent sitting on the porch of Herms's Cabin with no company but the cricket chirping at your feet and the consistent rocking of the chair in which you sat.

The last breaths of summer tickled your cheeks and tousled your hair. The setting sun was a dim echo beneath your closed eyelids. Training had turned your muscles into putty. The day had been hot and sticky and sweat still clung to all your nooks and crannies. You would have to head down to the showers sooner or later, but for now, on the cusp of slumber with the night's chill setting in around you, you could relax.

Of course, you appreciated the rest; who wouldn't?

But it would never be possible if Camp Half-Blood was at its peak.

Only a few campers could be seen on the green: A boy on his knees in the dirt outside the Demeter Cabin; Two girls holding hands as they headed off toward the volleyball court; A young girl tending to the central hearth, and you, of course. In the distance, the Stoll brothers were trying to push each other off the rock wall, and even farther away was the distinct sound of Clarisse La Rue giving someone a piece of her mind.

There were others, of course, there were others, but in a moment like that, you couldn't help but feel emptiness.

"Mc"

"JESUS!"

You nearly jumped out of her skin. You turned to find a familiar blonde girl with grey eyes at the corner of the cabin smiling at you.

"Spoke ya?" she asked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, then quickly added, "Of course not!"

Annabeth Chase laughed, a sound you'd quite missed during your time in... Nevermind.

Annabeth hoisted herself up on the edge of the porch, not bothering with the stairs. "So," she started, "Percy and I are thinking of sneaking out and heading to the beach tonight."

"Uh-huh," you drawled, watching her trace the wood patterns of the porch with her finger.

"We plan to get some swimming in before the summer ends," she glanced up for your reaction, and when you said nothing she continued with "Do you want to come swimming?"

"And third wheel for you and your boyfriend?" you scoffed. "No thanks."

Annabeth's face reddened ever so. "He's not-Well ... You wouldn't be third-wheeling," she said.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a moment, thinking. You'd missed Annabeth the past year, you really had. Before the war, you'd been the closest of friends... Then you picked Luke over her...

You both wanted things back to normal. And normal was getting up to no good that Annabeth would otherwise frown upon. So sure, what the hell?

"Great," Annabeth's smile was brighter than the sun at noon. "I'll see you then. Around 12 ish?"

"Sure," you smiled back, though your tired body hated the idea.

Annabeth rose from her spot just as the dinner horn blew in the distance.

She glanced over her shoulder at you.

You heaved a dramatic sigh before attempting to stand from your chair. A long groan came out instead as your back ached, locking you in a hunch for a moment too long.

Annabeth laughed again, "Need a hand, old man / lady?"

"Shut up," something in your knee cracked as you made your way down the few stairs the porch had to offer.

Annabeth looped her arm through yours, either for comradery's sake or because she was fully giving into the elderly bit, you'll never really know. Together, you headed off for the dining pavilion.

Dinner was the same as any dinner, at least from the past couple of weeks. Quieter than it should have been, but still bustling with excitement for the upcoming capture the flag game that Connor Stoll was quick to remind you of the moment you sat down.

"Hear Athena's got a new magic item up their sleeve," he said before your ass had even hit the seat. Travis slid into place on the other side of you.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed before leaning in so only you and Connor could hear, "If you ask me, it's a loada shit. They probably just started that rumor to get us on our toes."

"Yeah, say that when they hand us our asses Friday," Connor rolled his eyes.

This conversation continued all the way up to the sacrifice hearth. You'd never been quite sure who to sacrifice to, and seeing as it was weeks after the war and you were still unclaimed, you doubted you ever would, but you dropped in a nice buttery roll anyway.

Dinner went by quickly, filled with endless chatter and argument. Soon, campers were draining out of the dining pavilion and flooding into the amphitheater.

A campfire was already going and Apollo's kids were already roasting marshmallows. Everyone filed into their respective section, sitting under the banner of their cabin. Some went straight for the smores first, though.

Quite full from dinner, you took your seat far from the center of the Hermes section. On one side, there was the slightly more crowded Hephaestus Cabin, and on the other was the solo Hades camper.

You'd seen Nico before the war, but you hadn't known him to be a child of the death god. It was nice to see he'd been claimed. When your eyes met, you flashed him a friendly smile. He quickly glanced away, his cheeks almost flushed in the firelight, and gave you a tentative wave back.

One of Apollo's sons scooped up a guitar down by the fire and spit out a few experimental notes before jumping into the fan-favorite song I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa.

The music had not gotten better while you were away.

But you sang along anyway, specifically when Connor Stoll, singing his lungs out right next to you, nudged you repeatedly with his shoulder and nodded encouragingly. By the third song, you were giggling and singing just as bad as he was.

Eventually, the day's activities got the better of you. You shouted to Connor over the ruckus that you were going to bed, he called you a prude, and you headed off.

Camp was much less welcoming in the dark. Sometimes, past the light of the periodically placed torches, you wondered if you'd see a hideous face or a pair of glowing eyes peering out at you. Of course, something like that was ridiculous. Camp Half-Blood was safe. The only safe place for you. You shook your paranoia off as you approached Cabin 11 once more.

Sometimes, it was jarring seeing the inside of Cabin 11. You'd done so so many times, but nearly two summers ago you'd accepted the fact that you would never see it again before you ran off into the night, hellbent on getting revenge on a parent you didn't know. Even now, it felt like stepping into the past rather than another room.

You made it over to your little spot on the floor. After the war, demigods had been claimed much more often, but before that, Travis had joked that you were a traitor and should keep the floor. You'd taken it a little too seriously and by the time a bed was free, more Hermes campers had been claimed. So, the floor it was.

You knelt down on your bedroll, contemplating that much-needed shower. Was it worth it if you were going to swim later anyway? You decided against it and against putting actual pajamas on, too. The shorts and tee shirt you wore would be fine. You were more or less taking a nap, not really sleeping.

You flopped down on the bedroll and melted the moment your body was wrapped in a blanket. You were going to set an alarm for yourself and put on a sleep mask (let's face it, those Hermes kids would barge in and turn the light on whether you were sleeping or not).

Instead, your eyes closed and sleep took you.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #percy jackson #obey me headcanons #pjo #riordanverse #pjo fanfic #pjoxobeyme #crossover fic #obey me fanfic

[the-space-left-in-between]

you know sometimes you just know when a chapter of your life is over and the next one is is about to begin? well that’s what it feels like right now. since Stella, there has been two chapters for me (& i’m basing her as a point in my life because everything that came after felt like a new book entirely).

the first, was a period of recovery and flourishing. i wasn’t over her at the time but i used every ounce of disappointment in me to fuel probably the most transformative era of my life. habits changed. people around me changed. i changed. a lot lol. i learned how to be around people again…how to become friends with anyone. i cut a lot of vices. smoking cigarettes was a big one. i’ve fell back on it a couple times but in actuality, it’s just not the same anymore. it just isn’t…so you could say it’s been permanent. i eat and sleep well. i take care of my health above all. my relationship with my family has improved drastically (something i’m grateful for but don’t always recognize). and the thing that pretty much changed me entirely…calisthenics.

fast forward a year and here comes the second chapter. i’ve grown accustomed to school again after taking that hiatus. academically…i’m not performing peak effort (i’m self aware) but it’s been enough to have straight A’s regardless for 20 classes currently (lol). so end result, i suppose it doesn’t matter all too much that i’m not completely nerding out. i’m also getting pretty good at calisthenics now so you could say i’m obsessed. i want to say i’m somewhere between intermediate and advanced in skill level. in a way though, the last two developments have probably made me somewhat cocky (i’m self aware lol). oh well. feeling like the shit is better than feeling like shit right? i’m pushing people away again though. i’m not sure if i just don’t have the energy to give the effort given all the things i have to do but…i don’t know. it doesn’t really bother me that much lol. everyone’s doing their own thing and i’m doing mine. i’m lowkey bored of working at Amazon but life is quiet and cyclical and i suppose, despite the lack of excitement right now…i’m grateful for the silence.

as i’m about to finish my summer class next week, lately it feels like life is about to change again. one, because this fall would be my final semester…and two, because i’ll be moving out this year. obviously i’d be leaving Amazon for one of the bigger firms and life will definitely be different not making $16 an hour lol. accounting pays well so we’ll see. current thoughts outside that tells me a new chapter approaches? every day, i feel like i’m entering advanced territory in my training. and two, I’m open to seeing someone again (not going out of my way, but you know).

have been having this habit of going to the gym past midnight lately, and when i get home it’s so quiet so my thoughts are at an all time high. blessed my class starts past noon. but i should probably stop and come back again. that’s all tumblr. be back again soon.

3:58am Tues 6.14.22

[lu-birdbrain]

Seasonal depression: summertime sadness edition

If you need me, I'll be glued to the cold tile floor away from the 106 F heat because N O

#when you go outside peak summer to complete silence #because even the birds think its too hot for this shit

[junisfics]

All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies

You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 

That was the first game of chance.

The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.

Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 

It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.

Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.

It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.

It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.

You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.

Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.

There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.

There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 

No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.

Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.

‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’

Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.

He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.

Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.

And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.

“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.

It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.

You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.

It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.

“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.

Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.

You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.

When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.

And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.

“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.

You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”

It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.

But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?

“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”

You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.

“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.

“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.

“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.

“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.

But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.

Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”

You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.

He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.

You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.

God, he’s so fucking nervous. 

Why is he so nervous? 

Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.

“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.

“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 

You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.

“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.

Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.

You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.

“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.

You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 

Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 

His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.

You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.

“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.

You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”

You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.

Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.

“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.

“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.

“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.

Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 

He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.

Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.

You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 

“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.

“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…

But he couldn’t let it happen like this.

You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.

“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.

And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.

Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.

“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.

You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.

You were going to be the death of him.

“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”

He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.

He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.

When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.

That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.

“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.

“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.

“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”

You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.

“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.

Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.

“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.

It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.

Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.

“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”

Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.

“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.

Of course he does. Of course he does. 

Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 

But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.

“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”

“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.

You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.

He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.

Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.

“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”

Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.

Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.

“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.

“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

“I need your cock.”

“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.

“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.

It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.

And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.

“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.

“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.

Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”

You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”

It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.

He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.

Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.

He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.

You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.

“You’re so hard,” You giggle.

Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”

You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.

#armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin smut #armin x reader smut #armin x reader #all this time #2k

[bestiesenpai]

Adventures in babysitting - Nanami Kento

Everyone say it with me now: Fucking! The! Babysitter! Femme reader, 3K words

Content warnings: noncon that turns dubcon, cheating, age gap(imagine nanami to be mid forties, 45 preferably), uhm there’s fingers in your mouth in case you’re not into that lol

Nanami was at his wits end with you. One day after another you continued to test his patience and you didn’t even know it. It was becoming so hard to even look you in the eyes let alone be in the same room as you.

Having feelings for the babysitter wasn’t something he should have, he knew this, but at this age Nanami wasn’t one to deny himself the things he truly so desired. The way you pranced around in shorts much too short to be worn around his family, your silly little summer tops bustling in the wind and exposing your midriff, even the way you ate ice cream could be deemed inappropriate.

“Papa, (Y/N)’s here!” His young son shouted one sweltering summer afternoon, breaking Nanami from his daydream of you and bringing him into the present where you were being escorted into his house by his wife.

Standing there in a pair of those little shorts and a tank top that showed a cleavage, skin probably smelling of freshly applied sunscreen and hot to the touch from the sun, it made Nanami’s pants tighten. Coming to stand next to the woman he married, his eyes were still drawn to you.

The words you were saying went in one ear and out the other. You might as well have been speaking another language, Nanami wasn’t following along at all. He was busy tracing the outline of your body, unsullied by the hands of time like he was.

“Bye mama!” Hugging his mother tightly, Nanami’s son pounced on him next. “Bye papa!”

“Have fun you two!” Nanami’s wife spoke for the both of them as you walked off, back to your car with his child.

Hours passed and Nanami still found himself thinking of you, even as he and his wife had sex in your absence. Cupping her ass, he thought of what it would feel like to slip his hands down your shorts and feel yours. As he kissed her, he closed his eyes and pretended it was your mouth his tongue was in. Pulling out and cumming on her cunt, he only wished it was you beneath him, then he would never pull out.

“We’re back!” When you made your return as the sun set, Nanami found it so convenient that his wife had gone down the street to talk to a neighbor.

“Mama’s across the street with the neighbor girl, why don’t you go say hi to them? Tell them all about the movie you saw?” Nanami asked while you had excused yourself to the bathroom.

Turning around and fixing his collar, Nanami smirked as the screen door slammed closed. Walking straight to the guest bathroom, there was no hesitation in his stride, throwing open the door with confidence.

“S-sir!” You’d clearly just finished using the toilet, yanking your shorts back up over your hips as the toilet lid slammed closed. Nanami didn’t say a word as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, clicking the lock into place.

“Did you have fun today? At the movies with my son.” His voice was low, calm and cool despite the nerves tingling just under his skin.

“Yes.” Answering him slowly, your hands splayed out to try and cover your front. For some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to do up the button on your shorts, but you still had half a mind to try and appear decent.

“I bet you got a lot of stares.” That statement had your head tilting in confusion and Nanami chuckled. “A sweet young girl like you is sure to attract attention. Why, I bet people thought he was your little brother and not my kid.”

“E-excuse me sir, but-” Surely this conversation could be had outside the bathroom, and you tried to reach around Nanami to open the door.

“I’m not finished.” Snatching you by the waist, Nanami pressed you against the sink counter and stared at you through the mirror, letting his eyes rake more obviously over your figure. “Yes, I know for sure you got stares.”

“Sir!” Gripping the edge of the counter, you were helpless to stop Nanami as he ground his hardening cock over your ass, his fingers making it harder to breath as they trickled up to clutch at your ribs.

Pressing his nose into the side of your neck, Nanami closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. You smelled exactly like the sunscreen he thought you would and the heat from the summer sun still lingered on your body, warming his lips as he kissed you.

“Please let go, this isn’t- isn’t appropriate.” Wriggling in his hold, you clawed at his fingers to let you go. Despite the wear and tear years of fighting curses had brought onto his body, Nanami was still just as strong as when he was younger.

“What would a girl like you know about what’s appropriate? Prancing around my house in those shorts with your ass hanging out.” Wrapping one arm completely around your waist, Nanami snuck his other hand down your shorts, pushing the loose fabric down until it pooled at your ankles and he was able to grab onto your ass.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nanami rubbed and grabbed your ass to his heart’s content. He often stayed up at night agonizing about you and now he was finally getting what he wanted. Pushing your panties down your legs as well, his middle finger dipped between the curve of your ass and grazed your slit.

“Let me go!” Your voice had risen to a scream, desperately hopeful someone else was in the house and would hear your cries. Nanami let silence fall over the two of you, his middle finger lazily circling your cunt and making your thighs twitch against your will.

“Scream and shout all you want, it’s just me and you here.” Opening his eyes to look at you, Nanami sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face. “Why’re you crying?”

“I don’t- this, please-”

“Sshhh…” Silencing your babbles, Nanami brought his hand to the front of your body, middle finger pressing firmly on your clit. “I know what you need, so just relax and be a good girl.” Flicking his finger, he smirked as you gasped loudly, one hand flying from the counter to grip onto his shirt sleeve.

Locked in a stare, Nanami watched your mouth hang open in shock as he massaged your clit, bringing in two more fingers and making bigger circles. There was slick building between your legs, gradually making his fingers glide easier over your swollen bud. Nudging your legs open a little further, Nanami slid his fingers down to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow for you.” He whispered gently into your ear. Prodding with one finger, he worked the long digit into your cunt, groaning at the way your walls clamped down tightly around it.

Keeping his thumb on your clit, Nanami pumped his finger in and out, kissing up and down your neck as he went. Slowly, your open mouth closed and your lip was caught between your teeth to keep small whimpers of pleasure at bay.

Adding in a second finger, Nanami had you fully rocking back and forth on his fingers, an orgasm that you didn’t want beginning to build between your legs. The slow, gradual pleasure that had built up was blurring the lines of what was right and what was wrong, the fact that this man was your married boss didn’t really matter any more.

Grinding onto his hand, you came with an embarrassed yelp and squeezed Nanami’s hand tightly with your legs. His thumb moved faster as your walls spasmed around his fingers, wanting - and getting - you to whine and moan loudly.

“Sir!” Stamping your feet as the pleasure reached a near painful peak, you forced your legs to relax and let Nanami go. Slipping his fingers out of your cunt, he circled your clit a few times before pulling away.

Grabbing your head with his clean hand, Nanami turned you to kiss him over your shoulder. The angle was awkward and a bit of a strain, but Nanami slid his tongue into your mouth with ease, quickly tracing along your mouth and committing it to memory.

The clanking of his belt buckle brought you back to what was happening outside of the dizzying kiss. The warmth from Nanami’s hard cock was no longer trapped behind a layer of fabric, it was right against your skin and nuzzling between your ass cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, you looked down at his cock. Just like the hair on his head, the trim patch of hair above his cock was starting to gray with a few streaks running alongside blond. Taking your hand from his sleeve, Nanami wrapped your fingers around his cock.

“Look what you’ve done to this old man.” He chuckled, moving your fingers up and down his shaft. A few beads of precum dripped out, coating the outside of your hand and leaving shiny strands of gossamer fluid connecting you to him.

Letting go of your hand to kiss you again, Namai was pleased that you kept stroking him on your own. You were even daring enough to smear more of his precum against the palm of your hand and use it for added lubrication. Going down to his balls, the feather light touches you gave them with the tips of your fingers made a short high pitched moan leave Nanami’s throat.

“Enough playing.” Grunting to cover up the unexpected noise, Nanami turned you back to face the sink and smoothed his hand down your back, pushing you to bend over the sink. Grabbing the base of his cock, Nanami guided himself into your cunt, shuddering deeply at the warmth enveloping him.

Putting his chest flush with your back, Nanami rested his forehead against your shoulder and caught his breath. Fucking you was something that was on his mind constantly, especially when he had sex with his wife. To finally feel the tight velvety walls of your cunt clamp down around his cock, it almost made him cum.

“Ha, not as young as I used to be.” A bittersweet sigh left his lips as he regained his self control and stood up a little straighter. Pushing his once perfectly styled hair out of his eyes, Nanami snaked a hand up your shirt and tugged your bra down enough to cup your breast and mold the flesh between his fingertips. “How do you feel?”

“Sir I-”

“Say my name.” Nanami cut you off swiftly, rolling your nipple in his fingers as he did. “Call me Kento when we’re alone.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you nodded and looked him in the eyes through the mirror.

“K-kento…” You say his name slowly, letting it roll and drip down the tip of your tongue, “I feel so full.” Your answer makes Nanami's head fall back, a wave of pride stroking his ego and bolstering his confidence.

It wasn’t like him to lack any in his day to day life, going about his business and doing what he had to do. But over the years, with an aging and changing body, Nanami had begun to wonder deep down inside if he was becoming less of the man he used to be in his 20’s.

“That’s what I love to hear.” But you’d brought it back for him tenfold. You, the babysitter that he shouldn’t be doing any of this with yet fantasized about every day. Giving an appreciative roll of his hips, Nanami smiled at you.

“Now, let me take care of you.” Hunching over your body once more, Nanami pulled his cock out slowly, teasing you with the leisurely drag of his cock before snapping his hips forward and making the first of many loud moans fall from your lips.

Massaging your breast in time with his thrusts, Nanami made sure your ass stayed flush with him as he fucked you. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible and that meant shallowly humping your cunt like a pathetic teenager.

His lips never strayed far from your neck and he kissed down your back as well, careful not to leave any marks you’d have a hard time explaining to his wife. Instead of leaving the marks of his teeth he left large wet kisses all along your exposed skin.

“Kento, faster!” You sobbed, growing increasingly impatient for him to move. While the lazy thrusts had your legs trembling they weren’t enough to get you to cum.

“So cute when you whine.” Nanami hummed and he could feel himself getting wrapped around your finger. He didn’t have the heart to even think of denying you what you wanted and he stood up, giving you more room to breathe, but only for a moment.

Dropping both hands to your hips, Nanami properly thrust forward and the slap of your ass against his skin could be heard well outside the bathroom. A hunger to have you cum on his cock washed over him and his fingers dropped down to your clit once again.

“Fuck, Kento-” You cried, knees threatening to buckle and give out on you from the sudden pleasure. Wrapping an arm around your hips, Nanami kept you upright as he pounded into you.

Nanami could feel his own orgasm approaching quickly the longer he went. The slick gushing out of you was making it far too easy to pump you full of his cock, your essence dripping down his balls and coating his thighs.

“Papa?” The sudden curious voice of his son had Nanami stuttering to a halt and both your pounding hearts beat even harder. Falling completely silent, you waited for a knock at the door or any other indication the child had heard you two.

Pattering little feet against hardwood were the only things heard in the house, muffled only slightly by your heavy breathing. Listening intently, the footsteps drifted away from the lounge room and up the stairs.

“Keep quiet for me.” Nanami whispered as he began to pump his cock again, this time going as slow as he was before. He kept his fingers on your clit and rubbed tight circles, exhaling sharply through his nose as you whined.

Slapping a hand over your mouth as his son's feet thumped against the stairs once more, Nanami’s brows shot up when you opened your mouth and took his fingers in, flattening them against the curve of your tongue and sucking on them.

Nanami wanted to snarl at the seductive look you cast him in the mirror, your lips wrapped tightly around his fingers and your head slightly bobbing up and down as if it were his cock you were sucking.

When the sound of the front door slamming closed again met his ears, Nanami resumed the vigorous pace he had set previously. Keeping his fingers in your mouth, he snapped his hips forward and pushed the worries of cumming too early to the side.

“Be good and cum for me, naughty girl.” Gliding his fingers along your tongue, Nanami pried your mouth open and grabbed the tip of your tongue, pulling it out from your mouth and making drool drip down your chin. “Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Letting go of your tongue, he smeared your saliva all over your cheeks.

Pushing your ass back against Nanami, your moans reached a crashing crescendo and your knees knocked together. Nanami rubbed your clit furiously as you came, not stopping his thrusts until he was cumming deep inside you and filling you up with the hot, sticky fluid.

“Kento, Kento-” You cried, gripping the counter for dear life. It was a struggle to stay upright and even more of one to remember to breathe properly as your orgasm washed over you. Nanami hadn’t made it any easier, fucking the both of you into overstimulation.

“Good girl, what a good girl for me.” His voice was long gone, wispy and distant as he came down from his high. Keeping his cock snugly inside you he took his fingers off your clit, giving you some reprieve. Bringing them up to his mouth, he sucked on them loudly and licked all of your release off.

Your upper body collapsed against the counter, chest heaving painfully as you struggled for breath. Nanami kept your hips up as he pulled out, spreading your asscheeks apart to watch his seed begin to drip out of you. Letting out a low whistle, he thumbed your clit one last time before leaning over and grabbing some toilet paper, gingerly cleaning you up as you came down.

Once everything was back in order, your clothes fixed and lips thoroughly kissed just one last time, Nanami slowly opened the door. He hadn’t heard the front door open, the voices of his family weren’t resounding through the house. The coast was clear.

“Here’s payment for today.” Just as promised when you planned this outing with his child, Nanami handed you an envelope with your money inside.

“Thank you, sir.” You said quietly, quickly backtracking when Nanami quirked a brow at you. “I mean Kento.”

“That’s better.” Patting you on the back, Nanami pressed a sneaky kiss to your forehead before stepping back and opening the front door for you. “I hope you know this wasn’t a one time thing.”

Unable to answer, you giggle and smile shyly back at him. The gentle smile on his face has a certain flutter coming to your stomach; Nanami has given you special attention, one that you know for sure he isn’t giving to anyone else.

“Get home safe, (Y/N).” He says softly, giving a curt wave of his hand as you walked out of the house and to your car, your panties safely tucked inside his front pocket.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

[astonmartinii]

lemonade and star-crossed lovers, p1 (JJ Maybank)

Warnings: none yet, swearing? all core characters are aged up to 18, Rafe is 21. 

JJ Maybank x kook!reader (super super slow burn) (this will hopefully be a series) 

WC: 4.0k 

Growing up, Y/N always heard jokes about how the eldest daughter was just the mum in a different font. She never used to believe it, but that was when she had present and dedicated parents. Now, it just seemed that with every addition to the Miller family, the less interested Kevin and Julie Miller became. 

So here Y/N was, practically a mother to her three younger siblings. 

Dylan is only a year younger than Y/N but is no less of a hassle, especially when his useless friends decide to crash at their place. But considering they had the most hectic house of Dylan’s friendship group, the Miller household was usually the last option. 

Then there’s Anderson, he’s in his rebellious phase currently, getting to that point where he’s figured out that acting out could maybe get the attention of his parents. Though Y/N wasn’t sure how well his plans were working out. 

Peach is the youngest and practically attached to Y/N’s hip. To an untrained eye, Y/N often looked like a teen mum as she took Peach with her to the grocery shopping. In fact, Y/N was sure that if the kooks in Figure Eight didn’t know her family, they’d sneer at her with the same ignorance that clouded their entire lives. 

Y/N woke up glad - it’s the last day of school. Summer break looms. The idea of boneyard keggers and hot (but equally clueless) tourons, excited the girl. But she knew her summer reality would be looking after Peach, bailing Anderson out of jail and swatting away the affections of Dylan’s stupid friends. 

—————————————

Dylan is already awake when Y/N comes knocking, taking extra close care to his hair. 

“Oh, you’re up,” Y/N said, moving to ruffle his hair and grab the empty plate on his bedside cabinet. 

“Jesus, fuck Y/N, was that really necessary?” 

“Hey maybe if you spent more time on assignments than your hair you wouldn’t have to take so many summer classes - oh yeah, mum might not remember, but I do, and you will be going.” 

“But it’s summer, surely it’s a violation to my human rights to go to school.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive, and maybe when you finally pass this year, you’ll thank me. Breakfast in 10.” 

Dylan just flips his sister off, going back to admiring himself in the mirror. 

Y/N next goes to Peach’s room to find her awake and rummaging through her draws. 

“Hey, princess, what are you thinking for the last day? Third grade finished already, you’ll be my age soon, wheeling me into the retirement home.” 

Peach erupts into giggles, pulling out a little pink summer dress and grabbing her pink sandals to complete the ensemble. 

“All pink, we love. Breakfast in 10, alright, don’t want you to be late for the last day.” 

Anderson’s room is last, Y/N doesn’t bother knocking on her parent’s door. Kevin is probably already down on Judy - his beloved boat. The room is typical of a 14 year old boy, it stunk, his weed paraphernalia was badly hidden and there was a lump of pillows under the cover instead of a boy. 

Shrugging, Y/N picked up the dirty mugs in his room and moved downstairs. She’d been awake nearly an hour now but was still unsure of what to make for breakfast. Opening the fridge gave her the only possible answer, leftover pizza from the previous night and maybe a porridge pot, though considering there were only two siblings to account for, it would do. 

Dylan and Peach joined her in the kitchen shortly after, each taking a slice or two of pizza. 

“No Anderson and pizza for breakfast? Watch out, we'll be calling CPS as soon as we’re outside.“ 

“You don’t know where the bug is? Why does that boy insist on giving me early onset cardiac issues?” 

“Don’t take it too to heart, I’m sure he’ll turn up by the second period.” 

“Okay, go to school now. Dylan, are you okay to drop Peach off, I’ll pick her up.” 

Dylan nods and ushers the youngest out of the door and to his car. Y/N lets out a sigh when she sees them leave the driveway and makes her way to the back door. Through the sliding door she can see her dad, Kevin on Judy instructing John B, the kid who worked on the boat, what to do. Y/N puts two slices of pizza on a plate and grabs an apple and ventures out to the dock. 

“Morning Y/N.” 

“Morning, John B, can I interest you in an apple? It’s all we have I’m afraid.” 

“No worries, any breakfast is breakfast when you’re a pogue.”

“Oh John B, you know I don’t believe in all that sub-par class warfare bullshit.” 

“Of course you don’t, but that’s very easy to say when you’re on the other side.” 

“Touche.” 

Y/N doesn’t say anymore, but moves to give her dad his breakfast. She liked John B and hoped he didn’t see her like the other kooks. Sure Rafe Cameron frequented her house, but she’s nothing like him. 

“Thanks, squirt.” 

Despite the nickname, Kevin was absent as ever, not moving to look at her. 

“You’re children are off to school, don’t worry.” 

Silence. 

“Oh thank you Y/N, I really don’t know what we’d do without you! You’re such a gem, you’re really unappreciated and we don’t deserve you! Thanks dad, I really needed to hear that. Are you coming later?”

“Where?” Kevin grunted, with pizza in his mouth. 

“My graduation? Did you forget that was today?” 

The awkward silence was enough of an answer for Y/N. 

“Sorry squirt, I promised to go to the mainland to pick something up for your mother.” 

With that, Y/N stormed off Judy, towards the house and into her room. When she sat down on her bed she could think about what just happened. She knew her parents didn’t care about her, but missing their first child’s graduation for a small errand to the mainland? 

Now that the house was quiet again, she could get ready - she was graduating today and as valedictorian she wants to look her best. Julie, her mum, is in Washington on some mysterious job venture, Y/N wasn’t told until she came down in the morning a few days ago and saw Julie with her suitcases. She guessed that one positive of her parents’ absenteeism is her ability to steal Julie’s expensive jewelry to wear. 

Y/N looked in the mirror, she did clean up nice when she wanted to. Her lengthy hair is in a half-up, half-down style, with minimal makeup and a red knee-length dress. The dress hugged her figure and complemented her graduation gown perfectly. Too bad none of her family would be there to see it. She knew deep down that Peach and Dylan would’ve attended if possible, and Anderson would maybe even make an appearance, especially if there was food involved. 

Y/N put her matching red heels on and grabbed her cap from her closet. After one final look in the mirror and putting her printed speech into her bag, the young girl made her way down the stairs. 

To her surprise, none other than John B sat in her kitchen drinking a glass of water. 

“You clean up nice kook,” said John B, a smug smirk on his face. 

“Thank you, John. Don’t you have graduation today?” 

 “Eh, yeah. I’m just going for the food though, school isn’t really my thing…” John B looked closer at her cap. “I’m practically the opposite to you Miss Valedictorian”. 

“Hmm, well at least someone in this house noticed, thank you John B. I’m going now, I didn’t notice your van out front, you need a lift to yours?” 

“Is that really on your way, wouldn’t want Miss Valedictorian to be late to her own event, you got a speech ready?” 

“I do as a matter of fact, but I want to be just on time, minimise the time people have to ask about the whereabouts of my parents. So, do you want a lift or not?” 

“Sure thing, Miss Valedictorian.” 

Y/N doesn’t acknowledge the nickname, but secretly loved it, it was a joke, but at least someone was appreciating her achievements. Peach would, she knows, but she’s not really at the point of understanding what it means and the others really are wildcards.

She led John B out to her small car, a baby blue Beetle. The boy smiled at her choice in car, 

“I’m sure that a kook like you could afford better than this.”

“Don’t insult Shelby in her presence, weren’t you ever taught manners? Now get it and give me directions.” 

The drive was fun, not that John B would tell Y/N that. He enjoyed her music choice, Mac Miller blasting from her speakers and the windows were fully rolled down, damned be her hair. 

Y/N neared the chateau and came to a stop. There were a few people sitting on the porch, looking over in confusion. 

“Yo, what’s with the kook-mobile, John B?” The blonde yelled from his seat on the beaten-up couch. 

When John B only turned to Y/N to say thank you, the interest peaked on the porch. The little gang of pogues moved towards the car. 

“John B, I didn’t realise your job came with a taxi service, why did I have to drop you off this morning?” The blonde, once again. 

“Lay off JJ, this is Y/N Miller, she’s the daughter of Kevin, the guy whose boat I work on. She’s on her way to her graduation and offered me a lift.” 

“Since when are kook graduations on the Cut?” The other boy interjected. 

Y/N decided to speak up, “if I knew an act of kindness would cause so much strife, I’ll just let you walk home next time. Now, I do have somewhere to be, so it was nice to see you, John B. I'm sure I’ll see you again this week.” 

“Bye Miss Valedictorian, good luck with your speech,” John B said, getting out of Shelby. 

“You’re the valedictorian?” Kiara finally spoke, face shocked. 

“Yeah, surprising what happens when you show up for school right?” Y/N snapped, angrier than she intended. 

“Oh yeah, sorry. I guess I thought that maybe Sarah would get it, especially if Ward has anything to do with it.” Kiara grimaced, she didn’t mean to offend the Miller girl. 

“You can’t buy the valedictorian title, well I’m sure you could, but not to flex, but my grades were miles better. If we’re being really ironic though, Ward technically does pay for the valedictorian,” Y/N said with a smile, not meaning to brandish her academic success in their faces. 

A chorus of “huhs?” from the pogues surrounding her car told Y/N that they weren’t catching her drift. 

“I’m Ward Cameron’s assistant. Sorry, I didn’t make that very clear.” 

“You have a job, but you’re a kook?” the blonde, JJ, said. 

“Yes, blondie, some of us do have to look out for ourselves, didn’t your parents tell you not to judge a book by its cover. I’ll see you around. Bye John B.” 

Y/N backed out of the road, heading back to Figure Eight, with her graduation starting in 10 minutes, she had massively overstayed her welcome at John B’s. If she weren’t so busy, Y/N always thought she’d like to be friends with John B and his crew, they had an unmistakable family bond that Y/N craved. She loves her siblings but they are still grappling with the idea of give and take, mainly fixating on the taking aspect. 

Y/N pulled up to school, and took out her phone, dropping a text to Anderson pleading with him to at least make it to two classes today. Even with her phone safely away in her bag, Y/N couldn’t quite bring herself to get out of the car. Happy families surrounded her everywhere she looked, she couldn’t handle the stares when she walks in alone. Well, it’s now or never she says to herself. 

Walking isn’t as bad as she suspects, Mr Morgan, her English teacher, meets her at the door and takes her to her seat, explaining the mechanisms of the ceremony and when she’ll make her speech.  

The hall, however, is the reminder that Y/N was dreading. The two seats she had booked for her parents sat empty, standing out like a sore thumb in the packed hall. She made her way to the student section with her head down. However, before Y/N could sit she was apprehended by an excitable Sarah Cameron. 

“Y/N! Hi! I heard you’re valedictorian, well done! I don’t know how you managed, with all the work and your siblings, you really are amazing.” 

“Thanks, Sarah.” 

The words sting, despite their pure intentions. She’s a kook, she shouldn’t have to work, and she should have parents who care for her and her siblings, but some things just aren’t meant to be, clearly. Y/N sat in her assigned seat and willed the ceremony to go fast, though she wasn’t looking too forward to her speech. The diversion to the chateau meant that Y/N had no time to look over it again. 

The ceremony started and the hall quietened down. Principal Stoney started her opening speech, basking in the spotlight when the hall door bursts open and interrupts. In the doorway stands Anderson. His hair is disheveled and the clothes are torn, probably from the nightly activities with the skateboard he held in his hand. The boy scanned the hall, eyes falling on the empty seats with the name Miller and then Y/N herself. He gives her a small wave and pushes past the Figure Eights families to the seats. 

Principal Stoney just restarts, a slight bewildered look on her face. 

When it was time for her speech, Y/N didn’t even feel real, like she floated to the stage and was possessed. Her speech went well from what she could gather, Mr Morgan gave her a thumbs up and Anderson hollered, much to the dismay of the families around him. But he was even worse when she received her diploma. 

As families spilled onto the field for fancy food and photo opportunities, Y/N wrangled Anderson to the side before he could raid the food stalls. 

“Anderson, what the fuck? First you didn't come home last night and then crash my graduation?” 

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night, me and the boys got carried away skating and I crashed on Oscar’s couch. I’m sorry, I should’ve called. And as for now, you think I’m going to let my smart-ass VALEDICTORIAN sister graduate without anyone being here to holler? You’re dead wrong.” 

The sentiment fills Y/N’s heart with joy and tears threaten to spill. Anderson’s never been good with feelings, it was nice to know that he did care. 

“Mum and dad can go fuck themselves, if they don’t see how great you are then they’re blind.” 

“Thanks, bug. It means a lot. Now don’t eat too much, people are probably already annoyed that you’re here.” 

Anderson shrugs, he couldn’t care less what they thought, he was here to eat and show off his sister. 

“Congratulations Y/N!” 

The voice of Y/N’s boss, Ward Cameron, was easily identifiable. Y/N puts on her confident face and turns to see the whole Cameron brigade, minus Wheezie. 

“Thank you, Mr Cameron.”

“You know, I just don’t know how you get it done, working for us and dealing with your siblings…” Rose says, the last part fading out as she watches Anderson walk back to his sister with his arms piled high with fancy horderves. 

“It’s tough, yeah, but what wouldn’t you do for your family?” 

“Of course, of course, sorry for any implications, where is the old man, I know Julie is off on business, but Kevin has to be proud, I didn’t see him in the hall?” Ward’s voice feigned sincerity, but the Miller siblings saw right through it. Before Anderson could respond, Y/N replied. 

“Dad is also doing business on the mainland, at the last minute. He’s devastated, really,” it's not convincing, even to her. Y/N can tell she hasn’t convinced the Camerons either. Sarah gives her a sad look, Rose attempts to mirror her step-daughter but fails, Ward looks slightly smug, like he’s trying to hide it but Rafe doesn’t even try to hide it like his dad, a massive smirk on his face. 

“What are your plans for the summer Miller?” Y/N is surprised when it’s Rafe who asks the question. 

“Well, I’ll be working for your dad, if he’ll have me, I still have my volleyball coaching in the tourist season and there’s never a dull moment with these around,” Y/N puts her arm around Anderson. 

Looking for a quick exit, she looks at her watch. 

“Oh, if we go now, you can still catch your last two periods. Kids, am I right?” She gestures at Rose and Ward, “we’ll be off now, I’ll see you next week?” 

The Camerons nod as Y/N pulls Anderson away and towards the car park. But before they can fully escape, they’re stopped by Mr Morgan. 

“You think you can leave without a photo and a proper goodbye, I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, Miller.” 

“Of course not, Mr Morgan, here,” she hands Anderson her phone, “take a picture please.” 

Anderson does so, taking about 50 at once. 

“Okay, okay, let's get one of you two, you can’t not have a proper graduation picture, especially not when you’re valedictorian.” 

Mr Morgan takes the phone and smiles at the siblings. When the impromptu photoshoot ends, Y/N is glad, despite it pushing back her escape. 

“Y/N, on a serious note, you are always welcome in my classroom, you’ve been a pleasure, and don’t tell anyone, but you were my favourite. And you, I hope you’ll be just as good next year sir,” he says turning to Anderson, “although considering you’re here and not in class doesn’t bode well.” 

“Thank you, sir, really. But you are completely right, and that’s why we’re bouncing now, so he can get two at least two periods.” 

Mr Morgan smiles at the two when they start to run to the car. He’s always felt sad for the eldest Miller, and her parents absence did not go unnoticed. 

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

“I’ll see you later, I know you guys will probably crash a kegger, but at least come home before you go?” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, who knows maybe I’ll see you there?” 

Anderson laughs and gets out of the car, he knows his sister won’t especially when Peach will be home. Y/N watches him go into the building and stays a couple minutes to make sure he doesn’t sneak back out when he thinks she’s gone. 

But Y/N barely gets time to breathe, as she’s down to the elementary school to pick up Peach. The girl in all pink is waiting with a gaggle of friends and shrieks when she sees the blue car. 

“Y/N! Y/N! I got the “most improved” in drama!” 

Y/N opens the door and picks up Peach, spinning her round and congratulating her. 

“Well done, bubs. This calls for a celebration, it’s the first day of summer and the boys won’t be out for another couple of hours - what do you want to do?”

Peach doesn’t even need a second to think. 

“Lemonade stand!” 

Huh? Y/N was prepared for an answer closer to maybe a princess party or surfing lessons, but a lemonade stand? 

“Are you sure?” 

“You said we could do whatever I want!” 

“Okay, okay, let’s go then we’ve got a lot to do.” 

Satisfied with getting her way, Peach got in the car and demanded that the next stop was the craft store. 

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

The next 90 minutes were gruelling. Peach spared no expense, Y/N was lucky that she still had the credit card Julie gave her. But she knew it would all be worth it. And it was. 

Peach chose a spot right in the middle of the beach and the stall was already making a profit. Y/N knew kooks just couldn’t resist the temptation to look good and what was better than giving a generous tip to a child’s lemonade stand? 

But with a successful kook-trap came the kook assholes. Namely Rafe, Topper and Kelce. 

“Three lemonades please. Apricot, right?” Rafe said with a smirk. 

“You know it’s Peach asshole.” 

“That’s a bad word, Y/N,” Peach mumbled, clearly upset about being called apricot of all things.

“Yeah that’s a bad word, Miller, you should listen to Apricot a little more.” 

“Maybe, you should listen to your college professors, oh wait, you dropped out, my bad, must be a bit of an open wound judging by the look on your face. I bet daddy wasn’t impressed.” 

“Excuse me, you bitch, how dare you talk to me like that.” 

“Run along, lap dog, we don’t need your money.” 

Rafe goes to say something but Topper and Kelce hold him back. 

“Bro, don’t get it shit with your pops over a fucking lemonade,” Topper warned. 

With a final “fuck off”, Rafe Cameron stalked away to his car, his gang of cowards following, but not without Topper placing a crisp $20 bill in the tip jar. Peach mumbled and thank you and Y/N just nodded to Topper, too tired to say anything more. 

And if her afternoon couldn’t get any worse, the prickly blonde from this morning strolled over to the stand. 

“I’ll have four lemonades please.” 

Peach gasped and accepted his money right away, getting to work on the drinks. 

“I’ve seen many a kook-trap in my time, Miller, but not many operated by Kooks themselves. Impressive ingenuity.” 

“Thanks - JJ, was it? Peach here won “most improved” in her drama class and this is what she wanted to do in celebration” 

“Cute, Miller, didn’t take you as a softy earlier.” 

Peach announces that she’s finished with the pogue’s drinks, he puts another $5 in the tip jar and grabs the drinks. 

“Miller, there’s a kegger at the boneyard tonight, wanna come? I’m sure at least one of your brothers will crash.” 

“Sorry JJ, someone’s gotta look after the little one, maybe another time, if you can stand being around a kook for that long.” 

“I think I can make an exception, especially if they look like you Miller,” he winks, “boneyard tonight, if you change your mind.” 

Y/N blushed, but she knew she couldn’t, she couldn’t leave a nine year old at home, even if Kevin was there, there was no guarantee that Peach would be fed and given adequate attention. 

“He’s pretty, you should go.” 

“Peach, honey, you know I can’t, I can’t leave you at home.” 

“But I could go to Jenny’s, she’s having a sleepover tonight, I forgot to ask earlier, I got too excited about the lemonade stand.” 

“Okay, you can go to Jenny’s, but promise not too much candy?”

“Only if you promise to go with him tonight.” 

Peach was proving to be just as mischievous as her brothers. 

“Okay fine.” 

“Go tell him then.”

“Huh?” 

“I won’t believe you unless you go tell him now that you'll be there!”

 Y/N groans, but gets up to follow the blonde. As she nears, she shouts, 

“Hey JJ! I’ll be there tonight, at the boneyard, I’ll be there.” 

“Didn’t take too long for you to change your mind then, am I just that irresistible?” 

“No? What? Of course not! It’s just Peach - she’s a master manipulator, and she’s only nine!”

“Sure, Miller, if that’s what you want me to believe, I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

Y/N turned, she should cringe, but she finds herself blushing as she walks back to Peach. 

“Don’t say anything, missy, you’ve done enough, let’s pack up and get you ready for Jenny’s. You young ones are such troublemakers, damn.”  

A/N: I am not American, so I hope that the graduation stuff makes sense, from someone who has no real clue what happens there lol  

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #obx imagine #outerbanks imagine #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #ward cameron #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x reader

[rekrappeter]

looking at the moon, but seeing you

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself drawn to draco malfoy, an october evening welcoming something you never expected

warnings: mention of feeling numb, swearing, typos

notes: please let me know what you think of this, feedback would be amazing thank you - if there’s an inaccuracy of the wizarding world in this, please don’t let me know, I’m not interested <333

I had originally started writing this for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s wc and had a prompt in mind, but then I went on a tangent and finished it forgetting to use the prompt oops but anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it either way <3

It was your favorite time of the year. Orange and brown leaves scattered the grass, the sound of them crunching when students trampled over them to get to class, and it was always dark before the final class ended. The ghosts seemed to be more present during mealtimes and the flickering of the crimson fires above the four tables created shadows around the dining hall. There was an eerie, yet wholesome atmosphere that Hogwarts welcomed during the month of October. But the thing you loved most about October in Hogwarts was the Annual Halloween Feast. 

You were staring wide-eyed at the mounts of food that appeared in front of you, your mouth watering at the sight of the freshly trimmed turkey and the pumpkin pies that were making your stomach grumble with hunger. It took everything in your power to not reach out for your first servings, knowing that everyone was waiting for Professor Dumbledore to finish up his annual Halloween speech. The moment he gave you permission to start eating, your hands reached out for the first bowl of vegetables closest to you. 

“Calm down there,” Ron chuckled, his red hair brushing across his forehead, “It won’t disappear right away.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you snapped back, a playful smirk tugging on your lips as you eyed his plate already half-filled with chicken wings and mash potatoes. 

Ron scoffed, his cheeks turning red, “Quidditch practice makes me hungry.” You rolled your eyes as the boy rambled on, trying to plead his case but as you looked over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table, his voice was just a mere whisper amongst the eyes staring back at you. Cold, dull blue eyes were on your figure from across the room, his porcelain face rested in the palm of his hands and his pink lips were a spark contrast from his snow-white hair. 

“Is Draco Malfoy staring at me?” you whispered softly to Hermione, ignoring the confused glances from the red head boy that thought he was having a conversation with you. Hermione peaked over Ron’s shoulder strategically, pretending to scratch her nose in the process. The creasing of her fluffy brows confirmed your suspicions and you both stare at Draco, it wasn’t until the taller boy beside him, Blaise, nudged his shoulder with his that Draco was pulled out of what seemed to be a daydream. His eyes widened for a second, his tongue darting from his mouth to wet his lips as he raised a brow in your direction. 

‘What?’ you mouthed to him, and he shot you an annoyed, almost hateful, glare your way before tearing his gaze from you. A scoff passed your lips, it was so typical of Draco to make it seem like it was your fault that he was staring at you. “That was weird,” you murmured, shrugging your shoulders and the grumble of your stomach remembered that you had forgot to feed it all day. 

When the Feast had come to an end, the magically thundering and lightening lit up the Great Hall causing students to erupt into discussions of thrill and excitement. The tables disappeared from underneath you, as the room transforming into it’s annual Halloween afterparty. Pumpkins that Hagrid grew himself were huddled in the corners, big enough to fit three full adult males in them, and orange and black streamers were dangling from the ceiling. The table that the teachers occupied was gone and replaced with a stage, instruments scattered around on top and you could spot a skeleton tuning a guitar. 

A grin was unfaltering on your face, the excitement bubbling inside you. You glanced at Hermione, seeing her face in complete awe at the sight in front of her and you hated the fact that your eyes found themselves travelling across the room to the platinum blonde. Despite his foul demeanor throughout the entirety of the feast, an amused smile was rested on his lips as he watched the band of skeletons take the stage. As the music started, people began shuffling onto the makeshift dancefloor, still draped in their house robes. Your stare constantly kept finding it’s way to Draco, and no matter how much you scolded yourself, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

This started towards the end of last year, these growing unwanted feelings that you held for the Slytherin Prince. The summer break couldn’t have come quick enough, Hogwarts was a big place but you kept finding yourself bumping into him or walking in the same empty corridors as he did. Throughout the summer, you hadn’t thought about him once - you labeled it as a stupid crush, the inevitability of falling for the ‘bad boy’ of your year. Of course, he had ladies falling all over him, but you’d never seen him with anyone other than Pansy Parkinson and even at that, you weren’t sure if they were exclusive. You tried not to dwell on it much, the thought of the two doing things together in the dungeons brought a wave of nausea each time. You thought the feelings that developed were gone, but the moment he walked onto the platform at Kings Cross, time stopped and it was just him there amongst the bustle of people bidding goodbye to their families. You scolded yourself the whole train ride, feeling yourself falling into daydreams and fantasies of what could be. But you were a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. It wouldn’t work. 

“You’re staring this time,” Hermione smirked, an amused glint in her eyes. She twirled you around so that your back was to Draco, and you silently thanked her. You had confided in Hermione about your little crush on Draco, hoping she’d be able to smack some sense into you and help you remember all the cruel things he’s said to you in the past but the thing was… you remembered all those things, you repeated them in your head but it still wasn’t enough to stop you from wondering where he was and letting your eyes linger after him. 

The night was drawing to an end, a night filled with endless laughter and dancing. You were on your way to the common room, arm linked with Harry as he swayed with you, drunk on happiness. Passing the courtyards, somehow your eyes spied a figure making it’s way to the black lake, and if it wasn’t for the hair that gleamed under the moonlight, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But you detangled yourself from Harry, him giving you a puzzled look. “I-I think I forgot my bookbag by the lake earlier.” 

“Do you want me to go down and look for it with you?” Harry asked, his hair tousled and sweat beading on his forehead from the amount of dancing he was forced to do. 

“No, I’ll only be a second,” you said, stepping backwards onto the grass, “I’ll follow you up.” Harry was hesitant to leave you behind, Ron calling his name from inside the castle but he nodded reluctantly. Hogwarts was after all the safest place you could be. You scurried down towards the bed of water, your eyes adjusting to the darkness until you spotted his figure sitting underneath a tree that was naked of leaves. 

“Following me, y/l/n?” you could hear the ennui in his voice, and it made you halt your steps. Maybe it was the glee from the October evening that led you to follow him, or maybe it was the dissatisfaction of not knowing how it felt to feel his lips on yours that made you come down here. Pursing your own lips, you took a step back hearing the crinkle of leaves under your foot as you twirled to march back up the hill you practically ran down. Draco sighed, “you can stay.” 

You were thankful that it was dark outside, the grin on your face practically glistening at his words. You sat crossed legged in front of him, feeling the October chill kiss your cheeks as his eyes gazed at the stars above you. While his eyes were lost in the nature that surrounded you, your eyes were on his face, taking in every fraction of it up close. How the eleven year old boy with an innocent smirk you met a number of years ago had morphed into the exhausted looking seventeen year man sitting in front of you. His pale face was separated with dark circles hoovering beneath his eyes, his pink lips were chapped and the speck of blood on his bottom lip indicated that he must have been nibbling on them recently. 

When the oddly comfortable silence became too much for you, your fingers digging into the grass underneath you, you breathed out a sigh gaining his attention. It was as if he forgot you were there. “Did you have fun tonight?” you asked. 

Draco scoffed, his eyes rolling, “I hate Halloween.” 

“How can you hate Halloween?” you questioned, your jaw dropping, “It’s practically a holiday dedicated to us!” 

“It’s a holiday dedicated to pretending to be someone you’re not, how incredible,” Draco drowned sarcastically. 

“Have you never wanted to be someone that wasn’t you?” Draco was stunned at your question, and he so eagerly wanted to scoff and question why would he want to be anyone else, but when he caught sight of your curious eyes, he became speechless. He stared at you like he did in the Great Hall previously, but instead of the lifeless stare that you were accustomed to at this point, his eyes were filled with sorrow and sadness. Of course he wanted to be someone else, the more he thought about it, he’d began to accept the fact that he wanted to be anyone but him. At the mere age of seventeen, he had so much responsibility resting on his shoulders, missions and tasks that he wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone about. He felt as if he was drowning. 

“Draco..” you breathed out, your breath fogging underneath the moonlight. Draco barely heard your face, he only came back to reality when he felt your soft, warm hand rest on his cheek and he jumped back in fright. “Hey, it’s just me..” you whispered, wiping the stray tears that were leaking from his eyes without him realising. 

Draco scrambled away from you on the grass, and you let your hand drop from his face. The spot you touched tingled as he stood up from the ground, fixing his robe that was draping off his shoulders. “W-why are you here?” he spat at you, his eyes twitching. 

You remained on the grass, looking up at his worried expression. You wanted to have an explanation as to why you were suddenly drawn to him, but you didn’t even know. “I-I don’t know, Draco.” 

Draco. Draco. Draco. His name that barely passed his ears lately felt like butterflies and fireworks falling from your lips. All he heard these days were Malfoy, no one addressed him as Draco anymore and he didn’t realise how much he needed to hear it, it grounded him. “Say my name again,” he mumbled, barely audible but from the raise of your brow, he knew you heard him. 

You stood up from the grass, taking a hesitant step towards him and you waited for him to jump away from you but he didn’t. You closed the gap between your bodies, his breathing racing as he watched every move you made. Lifting your hand to his face again, he let himself relax underneath your touch and his eyes fluttered closed. “Draco,” you said softly, the twitching of the corner of his lips motivating your next move. His stature was slightly taller than you, making you put all your weight on your toes as your lips touched his cheek, “Draco,” you repeated, your lips moving down to his jaw, “Draco..” 

You gasped as his hand suddenly gripped the wrist of your hand resting on his cheek. He opened his eyes, a confused look swirling beneath the blue but you never got the chance to see beyond the confusion before his lips crashed against yours in a breathtaking kiss. You stumbled back at the impact, but he wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you. Your lips moved in sync, the kiss rapid and intrusive. He pushed your body up against the large tree trunk, your head hitting the bark and your breath hitching in your throat. “D-Draco,” you stuttered against his lips, trying to push him off you to catch your breath, “What are you doing?” 

“I… I just wanted to feel something,” Draco mumbled, almost feeling guilty for kissing you and his eyes casted downwards. He tried to step away from you but you clasped your fingers around his wrist and stopped him. He glanced up at you, the swollen lips a reminder of seconds before. 

“How did it feel?” you asked, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. 

The overly confident and obnoxious man that you once knew was nowhere to be found, seemingly lost in the October breeze. When Draco resulted in silence as his answer, you closed the gap again and connected your lips in the second kiss of the evening. This one was more delicate and you could tell he wasn’t expecting it, it took him a moment to kiss you back. Your hands slipped into his, your fingers intertwining as you lost yourself in his touch. He broke the kiss, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he breathed in your scent, “It feels like a new life,” he finally answered, his heart hammering against his chest, “but please answer this, will you forget about it in the morning?” 

“Never.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco #malfoy #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy fanfic #fanfiction #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #tom felton #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy headcannon #brickswritingchallenge

[n0wornever]

Don’t Forget - Owen Joyner x Reader

Omg can I pls request Owen x reader where they fight about not feeling important to one another maybe he missed a date and she missed a release party or something so they have a mega fight but make up later that night either cuddling in bed or soaking in silence in a bubble bath (idk if that’s specific enough for you)

This was perfect, @cherrymaybank​, I hope you like it! 

Also, I don’t have an Owen Joyner taglist, and I wasn’t sure if the JATP list I had would be interested in actor content, so if you want to be placed on  a separate list....let me know! 

Y/N tapped on the table below her as she watched the diner clock hand strike 6:30. She had been waiting for her boyfriend for over an hour and the pity milkshake the waitress gave her only did so much to sooth her disappointment. She took one more sip of the strawberry drink before her eyes were pulled back to her phone. 

As she clicked on the Instagram app, she was immediately met by a video of Owen and Charlie goofing around in the airbnb they rented for the weekend. Charlie made a makeshift drumset from a couple pans in kitchen and Owen was singing off key in the background. Her finger slid a little further to see that the post had been uploaded only minutes before. 

Her brows furrowed as she closed the app and turned off her phone screen. She turned to her left, unzipping her purse and rummaging through its contents. As she stumbled upon her wallet and pulled it out onto the table, she heard a soft voice reach out to her.

“Oh honey, don’t even worry about it.” 

Her eyes rose to see the sympathetic smile of the kind red-headed waitress who had her hands clasped at her chest as she looked at her. Y/N’s eyes darted to the table where she’d set two pastel colored macaroons. She opened her mouth to protest, but the woman walked away, clanking her heels against the linoleum before she could even get the words out. She sighed, placing her wallet back into the bag. Her hand inched toward the treats, hesitating over the box for a moment before gripping it tightly. She zipped up the bag and threw it over her shoulder as she made her way to the exit. 

When Owen still lived in the city, she wouldn’t have probably been half as upset as she was about him missing a single date. However, the blonde had been so far away from her in California for months, and this would have been the first time she’d see him before he’d jet set again in a few days back to the coast for some promotional shoots for the next season. He had plans to take the boys out tomorrow and visit his mom Sunday afternoon, so she knew this was the only day she’d be able to catch him.

She stepped out into the warm summer air, walking down the sidewalk toward her car. The sun was at its peak, causing her to squint as she walked briskly back to her car. She grabbed her keys out of her jeans pocket and pressed it into the lock. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she weighed her options.

She could go over to Owen’s airbnb, like they planned to after dinner, or she could go home and just call him about it later. With the embarrassment of everyone in the room looking at her in that corner booth still fresh on her mind, her foggy one-track-mind chose the first option. 

He had given her the address ahead of time, in case she wanted to come over before they went out that night anyway, right? Y/N’s finger tapped against the steering wheel as she pondered the situation in front of her for a moment. Owen’s time in the city was very minimal and if she didn’t confront him now, she may not get a chance to, and the anger would boil inside of her for several more months.

She shook out of her trance, placing the key into the ignition and swiftly pulled out of the lot, making her way to the boy’s place. 

After a few minutes of driving, a line of similar looking townhomes came into view on the right side of the road. She flipped on her turn signal and pulled into the parking lot. She quickly looked down at her phone in her lap to confirm the building number. The third home down was her destination. As she pulled into a spot right across from the bright red door, she let out another deep breath. 

She shook out her hands for a moment before turning off her car and unbuckling her seatbelt. She unzipped her purse and pulled the silver lined box out, pinching it between her fingers. She closed her eyes for a moment before finally letting herself open the door. 

As she made her way to the entrance, her free hand balled into a fist and her lips fell into a thin neutral line across her mouth. She jogged up the few stairs that led to the door. She lifted her hand to press against the door, letting it drop back down to her side afterward as she waited. 

It took a minute, but she finally started to hear the handle move from the the inside of the house. It finally broke free and she stood face to face with her boyfriend’s blue eyes. Owen looked over at her with a bright smile, but that shortly faded as he took in her expression. She didn’t say a word before handing over the little box to the boy, trying to ignore the fact that her hand were shaking as it move toward him. Owen’s eyebrow rose as he grabbed it from her, trying to latch onto her other hand afterward. Y/N shook from his grip and took a step back.

“I just wanted to bring you something from the diner...since you couldn’t make it,” She said, letting her eyes finally meet his.

Owen’s eyes widened as he looked at her. He shoved the box in his pocket, stepping forward toward her. As soon as his hands grabbed onto hers, she slipped right through. She chewed down on her lip before continuing her thought.

“Don’t worry about it, have fun with the boys.” 

She placed her hands in her pockets and turned to walked down the stairs. She heard him call after her, but she just kept her head down as she made her way back to the car. 

It wasn’t until she was sitting in the vehicle again that she let herself fully breathe. She looked out the windshield to see Owen still standing on the porch, watching her. She brought her focus back down the the steering wheel and put the car in drive. Her eyes caught his once more before she sped out of the lot. 

When she finally got back to her apartment, she threw her bag by the shoe rack and made a beeline for the kitchen. She opened the freezer, rummaging through tv dinners and frozen vegetables to find a single carton with colorful sprinkles on the outside. Her arm reached into the back and grabbed the container before shutting the door and making her way to the drawer near the sink to grab a spoon. 

She made her way back to the living room, falling back onto her couch. She tucked her feet underneath her and settled into the cushion. Her arm stretched out toward the table in front of her to grab the remote and pressed her on button. Clicking into her Netflix account and hit resume playing on the last episode of New Girl she was on, finally letting her back rest against the soft surface behind her. 

She got through one episode before she heard a knock at the door. She grabbed her phone that sat by her side, flipping it over to see that there were no new messages waiting for her. Puzzled, she placed her spoon in the dish and set it on the table as she finally got herself off the couch to answer the door. 

Unlatching the deadbolt, she pulled the door toward her. Her gaze landed on a pizza box with a little silver smaller box on top of it before they shifted up to meet a pair of blue eyes. Owen let a soft smile land on his left cheek, shaking the box from side to side. 

“Hi,” He said as his eyebrows pulled to the middle of his face.

She leaned against the doorframe, letting her lips lift as well as she watched his movements. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize for being a complete idiot.”

She pinched her lips together at the side of her face as she moved out of the front of the doorway, outstretching her arm to motion him inside. Owen stepped through the door, walking over to the kitchen to set down the box. As he made his way back to the living room, he stepped right in front of her, invading her personal bubble. 

“Hi again.” 

His hands moved toward her waist, and she let him pull her in toward him. His thumbs rubbed circles on the sides of her hips as he met her eyes. She tried her best to keep a stern look across her face as she looked up at him, causing his smile to deepen even more.

“You’re really mad at me, huh?” 

“You ditched me Owen, this was supposed to be our day...” She spat, her tense worry line becoming more prominent as she spoke, hands pressed against his chest. “It was so embarrassing to sit in there alone and have everyone just watch you. The waitress wouldn’t even let me pay for my drink. She gave me these eyes.” 

Y/N mocked the puppy dog eyes the red head had given her that afternoon and Owen giggled up at her. His hands traveled to the middle of her back as he pulled her even closer. 

“I’m really sorry honey. I didn’t look at the clock...I...I have no excuse good enough...but I’m sorry.” He said with a sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Yeah you should be,” She said, pouting up at him.

“You should be the priority, always,” He paused for a moment, gauging her reaction. When a soft smile finally landed on her cheeks, he continued. “That’s why I told the boys to go sight-seeing without me tomorrow.”

His fingers tapped against her skin as he waited for her response. Y/N frowned up at him, leaning her head to the side. 

“You don't have to to do that, I know you wanted to show the boys around the city, I can-” 

He leaned down and captured her lips quickly. Her eyes closed as hers moved in sync with his. As they pulled apart, hers fluttered back open to Owen smirking down at her. He smiled down at

“Those two idiots can find their own way around, but I want to be with you tomorrow. We were supposed to have a day together, and I’m going to make that happen.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, nodding up at him. She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, pushing against the nape of his neck to bring him back down to her level. As they parted, she brought her hand down to intertwine with his, leading him toward the couch.

She sat down first, Owen following quickly to sit on the cushion next to her. The boy placed his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. She let her head lean against his chest as she held the remote up to the tv and pressed play.

“I love you,” He murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss against her temple.

Her eyes lifted up to his and she finally let a wide smile grace her lips as she whispered “I love you too” back up to him.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner x reader #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp imagines

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

#football imagine #football fic #jadon sancho #ben chilwell #mason mount #declan rice #ben white #jack grealish #tyrone mings #kyle walker #ben chilwell imagine #jack grealish imagine #mason mount imagine #football one shot #tyrone mings imagine #x reader #a family affair fic #steph writes #stephspurs #italian national team #jorginho #federico bernardeshci #jorginho imagine #bernardeschi imagine #juventus fic #juventus imagine #italy nt imagine #england nt imagine #three lions imagine #azzurri imagine

[millllenniawrites]

delicate (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part six of dear love of mine

words: 1.9k

warnings: mention of hair but specifics aren’t given; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: it’s been ages since I updated this series but hello! We’re back! Reader is a mess and I love it! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

__

The late afternoon sun peaked out from behind the clouds and you basked in the light, tilting your face up to catch its rays. This was the reason you’d agreed to promenade all the way to town when you could have taken a carriage. The warmth, the light, the time outside, it was one thing who’s description in books just never measured up, no matter how talented the author.

Ana and Finn strolled ahead of you, close enough that your mother would have scolded them. Her elbow brushed his and their eyes met and you grinned like a fool, almost skipping beside the General. Your hand rested on his (very firm) bicep, which you used to keep a respectable amount of distance between the two of you.

Your dreams hadn’t fooled you. He did run warm. As warm as the sun that beat down on you both. You kept a light grip on him, scared he may be able to feel the way your heart raced through your palm if you held on any tighter.

The General leaned close enough to murmur, “It seems our plan is working well, Miss Dean.”

He was right, though you hated it. In the few days since he’d proposed his scheme, Ana and Finn had seemed to grow closer still. This whole excursion was Finn’s idea, to head into town. It worked out well that your mother had requested an order of fabric and that you could take over this task for your servants, who had been swamped preparing for the season ahead.

It would be Siena’s debut. She was still young, but your mother wanted to give her a chance to enjoy herself without the pressure of marriage on her first season.

You would be attending the parties too, as a chaperone. It would be easier to turn down suitors now that you and Poe had been seen in public together. Though when he began courting others, it might pose a problem.

He was well within his right to do so. It wasn’t as if the two of you were genuinely courting. Even if he was sweet. And had had flowers delivered to your bedroom two mornings this week.

You had tossed them out the window.

As you reached the edge of town, you stepped away from him, pretending that you needed both hands to lift your skirts. Luckily, the shop you had to pick up the delivery from was right along the road.

Finn bowed slightly to Ana before turning back to you. “We will collect your mother’s order.”

“We’ll be here.” Ana batted her eyelashes at him and you resisted the urge to groan.

This would make her happy. This was the entire point of putting up with the General at your side and his very warm, very large hands.

He stepped away from you, following Finn into the shop without so much as a backwards glance.

“So things with the General seem to be going well.” Ana’s elbow found a soft spot in your side and you coughed, which saved you from responding. “I never thought I’d see the day you let a man truly pursue you, sister.”

“This hardly counts as pursuit. And once the parties start, I’m certain he will get swept up with all the beautiful debutants.” One of those girls would do much better for a General, someone that had been instructed since birth on how to take care of a man and a household, rather than in matters of trade and employment and the upkeep of your property as you had.

Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? I cannot imagine anyone else catching his eye the way you have.”

“A temporary interest, perhaps. But it is temporary.” And fake, though you couldn’t tell her that. She would most certainly object to any kind of meddling on your part, despite the fact that you had meddled and organized and made-happen most of her life.

The boys were quick. The General and Finn were at your sides moments later, the roll of fabric balanced over Finn’s shoulders. He looked like you imagined a sailor from one of your novels might, swaggering and sweet and able to carry double his weight if he chose to do so.

Those shoulders would be good for lifting children. And for taking care of your sister.

The General did not leave the shop empty-handed either. A small bag poked out of the pocket of his trousers, and he was clutching something tight in his hand.

“Miss Dean,” the General ducked his head, though his eyes didn’t leave yours. He held his hand up between you, opening it to reveal a pale golden ribbon. He smiled, small and almost timid, and something inside you melted. “May I?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure as to what he was asking. He stepped forward and looped the ribbon around your head like a circlet. His fingers brushed your soft skin as he secured it with a knot at the base of your neck. You shivered despite the heat, goosebumps running up your arms as you gazed into his eyes.

“Cold, Miss Dean?” He asked. Though his words were innocent, they were tinged with something darker. Something knowing, as if he could read your thoughts in your eyes.

“Just caught a chill.” You forced a smile, turning to your sister. “Shall we head home?” The stain in your voice was evident, and she hid her grin behind a gloved hand as you turned back for the road home.

As Finn found his place at Ana’s side and the General found his place at yours, you began to seriously regret not taking a carriage. The walk home seemed so much longer, each step like running through molasses.

“Miss Dean, you’re shaking. Once we are out of sight of the town, if it would make you more comfortable, you may wear my coat. I can imagine your mama would not take kindly to you taking ill from a stroll.”

“I am fine,” you hissed, stepping even further away from him.

A carriage barrelled down the road towards town. And towards you.

You were nearly fully in the road, and the General reached for your elbow to guide you back out of the way. “Miss Dean, I must insist—“

“You will insist nothing.” You wrenched your arm out of his grasp, but moved off the road just as a carriage careened past.

The General skirted behind you, putting himself between you and the road and forcing you to walk further away from danger in order to keep your distance from him. “I will insist that you don’t end your own life, Miss Dean. I am courting you. Your death on my watch would tarnish my reputation.”

You would have slapped him if not for the warmth in his voice. He was… joking? Had you reached the point in your strange companionship that you could tease?

When you looked up at him, your elbow bumping into his side, his eyes were soft. There was a vulnerability to him, an openness that stole your breath.

You stuttered to a stop. He continued on, ending up in front of you and completely turned around to face you. “Are you feeling well, Miss Dean?”

“I am,” you breathed, unable to pull your gaze from his face.

“Shall we continue?”

You suddenly shouted, the words ripped from your throat. “A stone!”

Ana and Finn stopped and turned, looking at you curiously.

“A stone in my shoe. There is a stone. In my shoe. On my foot.” You rambled, your face burning.

Poe ducked his head to hide his smile. Only loud enough for you to hear, he said, “But of course. I would not expect an intelligent woman such as yourself to wear shoes on your shoulders.”

Poe knelt before you. He held his hands out and you let your foot peak out from under your skirts. Carefully, without touching your skin, he undid the buckle and eased the shoe of your foot, shaking it out before holding it before you once again. He did not comment that there was no stone, simply smiled up at you. Kneeling before you. A surge of power flowed through you at his physical submission.

You snatched the shoe out of his grasp, shoving your foot back in it and setting off without waiting for him to rise. He scoffed behind you, but you paid him no mind. You stomped past Finn and Ana, the buckle on your shoe clacking with each step.

You could feel Ana’s glare scorching across the backs of your shoulders, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Not now. He laid you bare before him with a simple smile, and then returned your power to you, over and over again.

It was beginning to make your head spin.

The General returned to your side in silence, though you could still feel the burning of his smile. You did not exchange another word until the four of you had passed into the house.

The sound of the buckle on your shoe snapping against itself echoed in the large foyer as you stopped, turning to Ana and Finn. Mister Kirk took the fabric from Finn and disappeared, presumably to deliver it to your mama.

After glaring at you, Ana guided Finn into the drawing room with a promise of a game. The doors were left open, as was proper, and her ladies maid stood watch over them.

You did not realize how close the General was standing to you until his whisper tickled your ear. “Would you like to stop this charade? Your sister and Finn seemed to be progressing just fine without us.”

You startled back and shook your head, aggressively enough that the ribbon the General had tied for you fell from your hair and onto the floor. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you were more than certain that your sister and Finn would need your help. You had to see this through.

“Then we shall continue.” He said simply. “You do keep things interesting, Miss Dean.” The General picked the ribbon up from where it had dropped and handed it back to you. “I cannot say that I regret accompanying my companion this summer.”

“I have a feeling, General Dameron, that Finn is the type to not take no for an answer. I am not certain you could have avoided following him in his pursuit of my sister.”

He chuckled again. “Perhaps we will end the summer with each a sister for ourselves.” The darkness in his eyes had returned. His tongue wet his bottom lip and you gasped involuntarily.

“Goodnight, Miss Dean.”

The General was the first to walk away, the edge of the brown bag just peaking out of his pocket.

You clutched the ribbon tight in your hand. You considered throwing it to the ground, or running outside and abandoning it to the creatures of the night, but you couldn’t let it go. Instead, you clutched it to your chest, the fabric soft against your palm, and you watched the doorway he’d disappeared through, waiting for him to return.

#poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #regency au #poe dameron fic #poe #poe x reader

[yamag00ps]

We don’t tell lies, Tadashi

pairing: yamaguchi x reader

genre: best friends to lovers

contains: pure FLUFF

word count: 2.2k

summary: he wasn't necessarily lying to you, was he? I guess he was lying by omission, but there's no need to get technical..

note: this is my first time writing for haikyuu!! enjoy some yamaguchi lovin’ :) p.s. play kina grannis’s cover of stand by me when you see the “*******” (I promise it enhances the fluff) & here is part 2

“We don’t tell lies, Tadashi!”

Ever since you were both ten years old, you have disciplined him into always being honest--well, with you, at least. You couldn’t really care less when he lied to his parents about breaking the vase in their living room, or when he lied to his teacher about forgetting his homework at home. What mattered to you was that he was always honest with you, specifically.

“We don’t tell lies” has become an inside joke between the two of you growing up. As silly as the backstory of it was, the sincerity of the saying never faltered. You both had no problem with being honest with one another ever since--whether it was as trivial as you telling him he had spinach in his teeth, or as serious as him telling you that he disliked whatever boyfriend you had at the time. Neither of you could find this honesty with anyone else, making this friendship all the more special to the both of you.

However, ten years later, here Yamaguchi was, pacing his room, two doors down from you, grappling with the biggest secret of his life--the only thing he has ever kept from you. Technically, he never told you a lie. The only reason he hasn’t explicitly stated his feelings for you was because...you never asked.

At least, that’s what he tells himself to feel less guilty about it.

He thinks he’s done a good job at keeping his feelings at bay over all these years. He always fell back on the fact that he would rather keep you around platonically than lose you romantically. Although he knew the strength of your friendship could probably overcome anything, it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take yet.

Tsukishima mocked him frequently saying, “We don’t tell lies, Tadashi,” whenever he would catch Yamaguchi staring at you a second too long.

“Not funny,” Yamaguchi replied every time.

He wasn’t necessarily lying to you, he was just waiting for the right time, and he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. He was hoping you’d understand this thought process when the time came.

It was summer break and a handful of players from the training camp decided to have a reunion, including the teams’ managers. A large lake house was rented for four days and split amongst everyone. Now, Yamaguchi had no intention of confessing to you during this little vacation. Why would he risk ruining the fun, right?

That was until he found out that not one, not two, but THREE different guys had planned to confess to you on this trip. He wanted to be upset, but he didn’t really have a right to be. It made sense why they would, seeing as this reunion was the first time a handful of them would get to spend real time with you since all of the volleyball events in high school. He cursed himself for not confessing to you before the trip.

One of them even came to Yamaguchi for advice on the first night, asking if you had a boyfriend. Not wanting to encourage him, Yamaguchi dryly replied, “Not sure.” Again, technically he wasn’t lying .. What if you were secretly talking to someone and you just haven’t told him about it yet? The mere thought of that possibility made him sick. After finding out about the other two confessions that were planned, he knew he had to get to you first.

Every time he noticed you talking to any of the three, he would conveniently swoop in and join the conversation. Fortunately, you were oblivious to his intentions because you were best friends, after all. He ignored the way the other three would scowl at him when you weren’t looking.

Tsukishima would watch from a distance and snicker to himself. Sometimes he would help Yamaguchi out too. Although, he’d be a lot blunter about it, openly teasing whoever wanted to confess to you saying something along the lines of, “It’s okay man, you don’t have to look too desperate.” You’d gasp and smack Tsukishima in the chest, missing the smile Yamaguchi was struggling to hold back. Usually, these interruptions would do the trick, and whoever it was would become discouraged and not confess.

However, Yamaguchi knew he could only buy time for so long until someone successfully confessed to you. That is how he found himself standing in front of your door at 3am, on the third night. Honestly, his journey from his room to yours was a blur. One second he was in his room giving himself a pep talk in front of the mirror, and the next he was at your door, any bit of confidence he had slowly dissipating the longer he waited to actually knock. He knew you were awake because you had texted him a photo of him and Tsukishima on the lake five minutes ago.

As he mentally gave himself another pep talk while pacing the hallway outside of your room, you opened your door. You jumped a bit, not expecting to run into anyone.

“Oh shit,” you quietly laughed, “Hi, I was actually just about to..”

You decided not to finish that sentence and asked instead, “Everything okay?”

“Oh! Yeah, hey. I, uh.. I was just-- um..” You waited for him to continue. He took in your sleepy self, snugly wrapped in a black silk robe. Your hair was in a low ponytail that had clearly been slept in. Fuck. He’d be damned if he didn’t take this chance to see this every night for the rest of his life. He’d been staring at you for too long.

“Sorry! Um.. your robe looks really.. Nice. Comfy. Wish I had one.” He awkwardly laughed and scratched his head. Looking anywhere else but you, he desperately searched for a way to recover from that painfully awkward compliment. To his relief you smiled and thanked him, telling him it was a gift.

At this point, it was very clear to you that he had something on his mind. You knew him well, so you waited patiently, not rushing him at all.

It’s just her. Talk to her. She will listen, she always does.

You were leaning on your door frame, arms crossed with your shoulders relaxed. Your head was tilted as you watched him expectantly. He took a step closer to you, forcing you to look up at him to keep eye contact.

The gentle look on your face was the last push he needed. Everything he had prepared to say escaped him as he took you in again, but he didn’t care anymore. It was time to trust his gut and be as honest as possible, instead of tiptoeing around his feelings. The look in your eyes grounded him and he knew there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers. He says it as if he’s sharing a secret that he’s been holding in for years. Your eyes widen as he takes another step towards you.

“What..” you breathe, studying his expression, searching for clues.

This wasn’t his first time telling you this. Growing up, it was never uncomfortable for him to compliment your appearance. You often asked him how you looked and he would respond honestly every time. But this time, you both knew it was different as he looked down at you with both a fondness and a fire in his eyes, completely aware that he was inches away from completely altering the dynamic of this friendship.

The silence was deafening as your gaze flicked to his lips, and his to yours. Before you could fully process what was happening, you grabbed the front of his shirt and closed the gap between the two of you. Despite the desperation that led to it, the kiss started off gentle and slow. His hands leaving the comfort of his pockets and moving swiftly to your waist. The kiss mimicked the desperate feeling of finally inhaling that much needed breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long. Your hands moved to the nape of his neck as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, you heard a group of guys making their way up the stairs. You both jolted, breaking the kiss. You peaked around Yamaguchi’s frame as he looked over his shoulder towards the stairs. You quietly giggled at the fact that his grip on you tightened as if he was going to lose you to whoever was coming up.

“Yamaguchi?” Hinata questioned. Your hands lowered to rest on Yamaguchi’s chest as you remained hidden behind his frame. He inhaled sharply and was sure you felt his heart beating out of his chest at the feel of your hands on him. He quickly cleared his throat.

“Oh, uh hi Hin--”

Without thinking, you grabbed his hands on your waist and yanked him into your room. Hinata, Nishinoya, and Tanaka watched in confusion as your door shut.

“Wait, Yamaguchi’s room is next to mine, over there? Isn’t that Y/N-san’s room?” Hinata voiced as Nishinioya and Tanaka shared a glance, putting two and two together. The two erupted into laughter and high-fived.

“Okay Yamaguchi, we see you!” Tanaka stated loud enough for you two to hear.

“We give you our blessing!!!!” Nishinoya and Tanaka cracked up, shaking their head at a very clueless Hinata.

**********

Back in your room, you had your back pressed against your door with Yamaguchi still towering over you, hands still on your waist as you both listened to chaos in the hallway. You hid your face in his chest as you listened to Tanaka and Noya rat the two of you out. He shook his head and you both laughed, lightening up the atmosphere. As the trio’s voices faded, you finally looked up at your best friend just to find him already gazing at you, completely smitten.

“I have my own room, you know. I paid for it and everything,” he teased.

“Oh? Okay, go ahead then. Get your money’s worth,” you playfully began to push him off of you. It was no use as his grip on your waist tightened. You giggled as he moved you back to your place against the door.

“But you, on the other hand,” he grabbed one of your hands off his chest and kissed the back of it, “Your company is priceless.” You blushed at this. This was a stark difference from the shy, stuttering mess he was when you first opened your door. You rolled your eyes and attempted to look away until he took the same hand and turned your face to his again. He couldn’t get enough of looking at you with such little proximity.

“Is this why you were pacing outside of my door?” You asked quietly, hands reaching around his neck again.

“Oh no, I was actually on my way to confess to Tsukki.” His left arm hooked around your back while his right hand massaged your side. He loved being this close to you.

“Oof, am I currently cockblocking him?”

“Yeah, but I don’t mind this plot twist.” You hummed in agreement.

Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. It was only then that you realized you left music playing on your phone. It was your “Sleep” playlist. Kina Grannis’s cover of Stand By Me played quietly. You briefly turned your head to where your phone sat on your bed.

“Dance with me, Tadashi,” you whispered and giggled. You rested your head on his chest and he held your right hands up as you swayed to the music. You quietly sang along while Yamaguchi shut his eyes in pure bliss. Years to come, he knew this would be one of his favorite memories between the two of you.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry.

No I won’t shed a tear.

Just as long as you stand, stand by me.

So darling, darling, stand by me.

Oh, stand by me.

Oh, stand, stand by me.

So darling, darling, stand by me.

Oh, stand by me.

Oh, stand, stand by me.

As the song ended, you started to speak, head still on his chest.

“I’m sure this goes without saying but I really like you, Tadashi.”

He scoffs, causing you to raise an eyebrow and pull away from him. He slightly shook his head and you were ready to scold him for that reaction until he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you again. He broke the kiss and started laughing. You looked at him incredulously. You just confessed to your best friend and here he was laughing ?

“What is so funny?” you asked, his hands still on either side of your face. The way your cheeks appeared a bit smushed as you whined was so endearing to him.

“How long have you felt this way?” He asked with a stupid grin on his face. The fact that he was getting a confession out of you, was so unbelievable to him that it was laughable. You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure if you wanted to answer him truthfully, already dreading however he planned on teasing you.

“For a while,” you replied honestly.

“Mmm, so you’re telling me you’ve been lying to me about this friendship..” Your eyes widened, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Tadash--” you began to argue, but he shut you up with a kiss again, turning your words into a whimper. You pouted into the kiss.

“We don’t tell lies, Y/N.”

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

A/N: WHEWWW who knew yamaguchi could be such a little SHIT. I wanted to write this b/c yams doesn’t get enough love!!!!! Also I had a dream about this so I kinda just ran with it. here’s part 2

ALSO. people often write about yamaguchi as this extremely shy boy who can barely hold a conversation and while that CAN be a bit true with strangers I think it’s important to remember that he can be such a little shit if he wants to be (his best friend is literally tsukishima come ON) AND y/n in this is a childhood friend so they’re already very close heheh

#yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi fluff #yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #hq scenarios #yamaguchi x you #yamaguchi imagine #haikyuu x reader