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rafeandonlyrafe · 16 days

Text

pizza night

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce

“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.

“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.

“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.

“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.

he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.

“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.��

“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.

you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.

“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”

“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.

“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.

“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.

“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.

you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.

“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.

“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.

callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.

“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.

“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”

“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.

“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”

“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”

“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”

“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs.

“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”

“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.

you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.

“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.

“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.

you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.

“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza.

“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.

“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”

“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode.

“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.

“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”

you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.

“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.

“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.”

“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving.

you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.

you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.

hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.

“just not feeling it.” you shrug.

“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.

“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset.

“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.

“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”

“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”

topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.

you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.

“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”

you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.

“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.

you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.

“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.

it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.

“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.

“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.

“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.

“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.

“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.

“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”

“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.”

you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.

the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.

“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway.

you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”

“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”

“what?” you question.

“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”

the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”

“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”

you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.”

“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?”

you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave.

“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.

it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.

“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”

“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”

rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.

you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.

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lovelyverosika · 3 months

Text

You didn’t know but with a twist

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!Reader

Warning: swearing

A/N: Hey<3 My name is Verosika and I’ll write fanfictions whenever I have the time to :) This is my first time writing one, so it’s based on the song "You didn’t know" to make it easier for me. Just to let you know english isn’t my first language..so be prepared for some grammar mistakes :,D

Y/N POV:

We all sat in the courtroom, waiting for the trail to begin. Next to me was my husband Adam and Lute. I wasn’t supposed to be here but Adam wanted me to hear the "childish" and unrealistic ideas of the princess of hell.

After everyone was here Sera spoke "We're gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into heavenly realm by means of this 'Hazbin hotel', Princess Morningstar?",Sera said wanting Charlie to speak up.

I looked down to Charlie,my head resting on Adam’s shoulder. "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as-" before Charlie could speak Adam interrupts her: "Objection, lame and unoriginal". I sighed at his immature behaviour and gave him a slight bump with my head.

Charlie was flipping through her cards making Adam roll his eyes. "If you have actually evidence, then show it already." He said,glaring at Charlie. "We have two patrons already they’re making incredible progress" Charlie defended and I smiled, "Who?", I asked. "Angel Dust" Charlie spoke. "Oh yeah, the pornstar demon" Adam snickered as he added. "He's totally worth being redeemed".

Suddenly Monika,another demon stood up. "Well then, if you know so much…what do you think it takes to get into heaven?",she spoke. It was quiet until I asked if Adam was okay. He scoffed as he pulled out a golden paper from his pockets and a pen, "Give me a fucking moment, okay?",he then started writing and gave me the paper as I read it out, "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?", I chuckled looking at him with an raised eyebrow. He shrugged "Uh, yeah? Sure got me here...didn't it?",he said seemingly questioning himself. Sera sighed before saying: "He was the first human soul in heaven."

In the following hours Charlie showed us the improvement of this demon called Angel dust and how he did everything what Adam wrote on his list but nothing happened. Sera only sighed as she wanted to declare the trail as failed and that we will see what brings someone to heaven when the first soul arrives. I sat there with my head hanging. I felt bad for keeping my secret,especially when I looked over to Emily,who held the paper that Adam had written earlier.

Emily: But she was right, Sera. She showed us a soul can improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would prove a person deserves a second chance. Now we turn our backs, no second glance?

Sera: It's not as simple as you think. Not everything is spelled in ink.

Charlie: It's not fair, Sera!

Vaggie: Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head.

Charlie: No! Don't you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways turn the page, escape infernal blaze.

Y/N: I'm sure you wish it could be so. But there's a lot that you don't know.

Lute: What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.

Lute & Adam: There's no question to be posed!He's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that Hell is forever?

Adam: A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to…

Y/N: Adam…

Adam: Come down and exterminate you.

Emily: Wait!

Adam: Shit…

Emily: What are you saying? Let me get this straight…You go down there and kill those poor souls?

Charlie & Y/N: You didn’t know?

Adam: Whoops

Lute: Guess the cat’s out of the bag.

Adam: What’s the big deal?

Emily: Sera, tell me that you didn't know…

Sera: I thought, since I'm older it's my load to shoulder

Emily: No!

Sera: You have to listen, it was such a hard decision. I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to do what was required.

Emily: To think that I admired you, well I don't need your condescension. I'm not a child to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you're purveying?

Charlie: That's what the fuck I've been saying!

Emily,Charlie & Monika: If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky. The rules are shades of gray, when you don't do as you say. When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.

Monika: Don't you act all high and mighty!Adam did you ever think your "sweet" wife might be a liar?

Y/N: Huh? Wait no…please!

Monika: Don’t be such a crybaby! Why hide the fact that you were a demon just like us?

Part 2

#hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #x reader

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drudyslut · 5 months

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Idk if you can make this into a fic (if you can please do so) but I just wanted to share this thought: so it’s starting to get colder outside and the pogues suggest going in the hot tub but you don’t get and just sit on a chair nearby and then you’re offered a drink and you decline and then you’re offered some weed and decline and someone is like “y/n not going in the hot tub, not drinking, not smoking, you pregnant or something” in a joking tone but then you just smile at jj and everyone realizes that you are and you tell jj that you were gonna tell him tonight before you guys went to sleep.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of alcohol and weed, jj fluff!🥰

loved this request, unsure how i feel about my execution of it, hopefully i did it justice, i loooove me some jj fluff 🥺🤍

“It’s cold out here, who wants to get in the hot tub?” you hear John B ask.

All of your friends had excitedly nodded at the idea, rushing inside to get themselves ready, no one noticing that you had remained seated. You crossed your arms, rubbing your hands up the sides of your arms as you waited on your friends to return.

JJ was the first to emerge back outside, his face pulled into a frown when he noticed you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“What’s wrong princess, don’t wanna join us in the Cat’s Ass?”

You giggle at the horrendous name he’d given the hot tub, shaking your head as you lift your head to meet his blue eyes.

“No i’m okay”

JJ frowns more, plopping in the chair beside you and placing a warm hand on your clothed thigh.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

You give him a small smile, placing your hand on top of his large one.

“No ‘m fine, promise”

He nods his head, ultimately letting the subject go and hopping into the hot tub, all of your friends joining him shortly after.

“Y/N are you sure you don’t wanna join us?” Sarah asks, her arms tossed over the side of the tub.

“No i’m okay Sare, thank you though”

Your friends glanced around at one another, their eyes finally landing on JJ who just gives them a small shrug.

“I’m gonna go grab some beers, J, you still rollin’ up?” John B asks as he pulls himself from the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around himself.

“Yeah already got some rolled, we’ll light one up when you get back”

John B grins widely, giving a small nod and rushing into the chateau, reappearing minutes later with 6 beers in hand. He begins passing the beers out, slowly walking toward you last, offering you the final beer.

You awkwardly cough, shaking your head ‘no’. “ ‘M good JB, thank you though”

John B narrows his eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side, “What’s up with you Y/L/N? You’ve never been one to turn down a cold beer, or time in the hot tub”

You awkwardly laugh, unsure of what to say to that. You did have your reasons for declining everything so far, but you weren’t ready to speak on it, not until you talked to JJ first.

“I’m just not feeling the best” you lie, but it wasn’t a complete lie, you hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately.

“Well are you at least gonna smoke with us? That might help!” Kiara chimes in, the joint in her hand as she takes a small puff of the substance.

“No, I-I’m okay”

Your friends were beginning to make it very hard to keep your secret, offering you all the things they knew you loved but couldn’t partake in at the moment.

Pope chuckles, “What, are you pregnant or something? No hot tub, no beer, no weed”

His tone was joking, but the smile on your face and the soft look you’d given JJ was confirmation enough for everyone.

“Wait- You’re pregnant?” JJ asks, hopping up and out of the tub, rushing to your side quickly.

He drops to his knees, his arms flying around your waist as he rests his head softly on your stomach.

You run your fingers through his soft blond locks, “Yeah, I just found out today. I was gonna tell you before we went to bed tonight, but I guess now works too”

You hear the whoops and hollers from your friends, everyone rushing from the tub and surrounding you and JJ. You felt your eyes well up with tears, the happiness surrounding you making your heart swell.

JJ chokes out a laugh, his eyes filled with tears as well as he runs his hand over your belly, “My girl is having my baby”

You giggle, letting a tear fall from your eyes, “Yes, we’re having a baby, J”

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jj master list | requests | taglist form

#jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj fic #jj fluff #tw pregnancy #obx

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

graduated delusional boys shoyo, kuroo, sunarin.

-> tokrev & jjk version

it's a simple night out with the hinata family. after another successful karasuno match, shoyo's mother suggested a restaurant dinner and well some shopping.

busy on his feet, shoyo walk-runs after his sister. she's certainly a little too fast on her feet—especially if you don't hold her hand or use a leash like their mom usually does. finally reaching her, he lifts her onto his hip before ending the mini race with a little scolding.

“natsu! don't speed off like that!”

“but the candies!!”

shaking his head, shoyo shuffles his way through the sea of people until he makes it back to his mother's position.

“sho', natsu, come here!” motioning to her kids, their mother takes hold of the five year old before pushing shoyo to walk in front of her, “stay in my vision, sho'. you're still young!”

well, shoyo would've done as she said without complaints but the last sentence made him turn his head back one hundred and eighty degrees. immediately warping his face into one that expresses confusion, shoyo raises a counterargument.

“but i'm already a third year! with a girlfriend too y'know.”

nodding her head to act as if she's paying attention to his words, shoyo's mother argues back, “yes, yes, but you still live with me so—wait.”

from the tone of her voice in the last word, shoyo tries to speed up his pace but a mother's hand is always faster.

“what do you mean by girlfriend, young man.”

“whoops..?”

turning around on his heel, he raises a hand behind his neck trying to think of a way to properly explain. it doesn't take long before he starts his own sign language while giving his mother the detailed lore of your relationship—which didn't last for long because natsu had other plans.

“sho's not a loser!” she juts in her opinion, looking at her older brother with an open mouth covered by her hand.

“NAT-SU,” feeling shocked, betrayed and offended, shoyo goes to press his palm over her hand to seal her mouth shut. as the color red diffuses to all of his ear, he feigns a limp as he takes baby steps away from his family.

kuroo is not kuroo if he doesn't bother kenma after twelve a.m during the weekend sleepover. if there's a sleeping kenma, there's a wide awake kuroo waiting for the right moment to strike.

“psst, kenma, wake up.”

“please shut up.”

“KENMA!”

“NO.”

covering both ears with his pillow, kenma turns around to block off kuroo and whatever he's got going on at 1:43 AM according to his watch. but oh no, don't get it twisted. kuroo is not one to forfeit that easily—persistent may as well be his middle name!

“i was going to show you my girl but i guess not!” changing his tone to a teasing one, kuroo backs off kenma's bed and goes to his futon.

as if it was an auto-response, kenma sits up straight, sharply turning his neck to kuroo, “pause.”

and with that, kuroo adds one point to himself on his imaginary scoreboard. snickering to himself, he turns his back to kenma, waving him off by repeating what he previously said, “you told me shut up.”

“wait i'm sorry,” kenma says. slouching off his bed, he uses his right foot to nudge at kuroo's “sleeping” figure. it takes about five nudges before he speaks again, “you know i love knowing people's business. please, kuroo.”

adding another point to himself on the scoreboard, kuroo turns on his back with a grin and a phone to his face. raising the phone to kenma's height, kuroo shows him a picture of a girl and kenma thinks kuroo's gone delusional. maybe he's just tired.

“whose daughter did you find on pinterest?”

“okay fuck you.”

snatching his phone back, kuroo actually feels quite offended. is kenma implying he's not attractive enough to pull a pretty girl!?

“I WAS NOT FINISHED LOOKING.”

“privileges REVOKED.”

shoving a middle finger in the air, kuroo pulls his blanket over his head to quietly sob in peace (this is an exaggeration).

kenma, tired of kuroo's antics, steals kuroo's phone to look at your picture and find proper evidence that you guys are indeed together.

“don't go through our chats by the way.”

“ew.”

three adults, three cushions and one bottle. in osamu's living room sits him, his brother and rintaro. how'd they get here? boredom. extreme boredom. when they were no longer entertained by the alcohol, atsumu brought up the idea of truth-or-dare with using a bottle.

spinning the bottle, osamu watches it land on rintaro and immediately asked him a question he's been dying to know, “rin, is it true you're seeing someone?”

throwing his head back, rintaro groans. he knew it'd come sooner or later but he still wants to be mysterious.

“nosy much?” and to that, both twins responded, “SAYS YOU!?”

dragging his palm over his face, rintaro laughs before confirming osamu's question. he's twenty-six with nothing to lose and he thinks he's sexy—so obviously he'd not be single..!

osamu's jaw drops. although he was the one who asked, he's still shocked. to his defense, rintaro's always seemed like the type to stay in the talking zone.

“oh, that poor woman. save her now before it's too late.” using a napkin, atsumu wipes his crocodile tears only to be kicked by no one other than suna rintaro. cackling at rintaro's reaction, atsumu defends himself, “'m just messing with ya!”

rintaro rolls his eyes. turning around to grab his phone, he proudly shows off his lockscreen that's a picture of you from your anniversary date, “isn't she pretty?” with a small smile on his face, he feels his pride emotion being activated.

“i dunno...i've seen better,” atsumu states his (unwanted) opinion. tapping a finger on his chin, he squints at the phone.

and as for rintaro? his heart dropped. looking directly at atsumu this time, he questions him, “such as..?”

“like myself duh.”

one.

two.

three.

and cue the fight scene with rintaro and atsumu while osamu tries to catch his breath from laughing.

“I AM SICK OF YOU.” stifling atsumu with his cushion, rintaro makes sure to smother his face with the fabric. he, atsumu, must feel the pain.

“hey—HEY. GO EASY ON THE HAIR.”

#+ rizsu: haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader #hinata x reader #kuroo x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x you #hinata shoyo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #suna rintarou x reader

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taintandviolent · 7 months

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feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage, and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin. “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…” He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…” You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

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535 notes · View notes

pigcowboys · 7 months

Note

About the confession fic.

PLEASE IM STARVING FOR IT.

Thank you.

Ps.( I need more percy headcanons from you they're so good LORD YOURE AMAZING).

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

summary: part 2 to this fic part 3

warning(s): blood, injuries, rough housing, cursing, SLIGHT jealousy, unresolved feelings whoops.. & mutual pining (they're just a little slow..)

a/n: HAHAH TYSMMM <33!! i wanna write more so badly but so much is going on with school i just haven't found the time.. :( (i have something in the works actually!!)

"are you okay?"

you jumped at the sound of grover's voice, waving his concerns off with a dismissive 'just fine'. and you were, for the most part at least. or as fine as you could be with the camp currently split in two on account of the disappearance of the young nico di angelo.

you weren't especially close with him - well, not as close as he would've been with his late sister. though, you had your fair share of moments with him.

while percy was away from camp on his quest with everyone else, you became to unofficial babysitter for the boy. taking on the role you assumed his sister had to play for him during the time they were together. and it was fun. you didn't have any siblings of your own so the thought of having your very own younger one just dropped at your feet was awesome to you.

well, it was till percy and the others came back and nico's seemingly never ending cheerfulness faded with the information of his sister's untimely death. it's things like that which reminded you of why being a half-blood was so dangerous.

she didn’t deserved to die that young - shit, nobody deserved to die that young..and in that way?

it's so..fucked.

"do you know when they said they'd be back?" you asked grover, turning to look at him since the first time you began to speak. he gave you an unsure shrug. "mm..soon? i'm not too sure," he turned to look past the camp entrance. " i wouldn't worry about it though, they'll be fine."

"you'd be surprised the amount of shit percy can get himself into.." you said to nobody at all. grover seemed put of by your uncharacteristic brooding. he spared you a glance before parting ways with you to do whatever it is he had to. you didn't want to do anything right now but sleep.

for whatever reason you'd taken it upon yourself to try your best to help out with every single thing you could around the camp, touring new comers, cleaning the pegasus stables - you even assisted the stoll brothers in cleaning the hermes cabin after someone (travis) had let a couple of gerbils loose in there as a prank.

it wasn't funny. you glared daggers at travis for weeks.

maybe you were trying to preoccupy yourself or maybe you genuinely felt like helping - you weren't sure. or maybe you just missed..something.. or maybe someone? you looked towards the front entrance.

yeah..you did.

you hadn't gotten any time to think about the weird interaction the two of you shared a few weeks ago yet, it was always fresh in your mind somehow. percy was so weird. it felt like since that day you'd started to see him less and less than before. could you believe it? this guy, someone you considered to be your best friend had been blowing you off!

what a dick.

worst part was the fact that whenever you did see him, he was almost always with annabeth. annabeth, annabeth, annabeth. i mean, they couldn't of even asked you if you wanted to hang out? why were they always together? always whispering to each other and avoiding eye contact when you'd meet their prodding gaze. it was so weird..

the last straw had to be when you'd overheard them talking one time. you didn't mean to eavesdrop, you just heard your name in passing and it instantly grabbed your attention.

"so..you're going to do it?" annabeth asked

"i guess."

"come on! don't be like that - you're going to scare her off if you're not passionate. about it"

"do girls..like passion?"

"obviously! you have to make her feel important." annabeth tutted. "you guys never get these kinds of things."

"you sound like one of the hunters.."

"hm?"

"nothing."

why were they talking about girls? did percy have his eye on someone? is that why he was avoiding you? he..liked someone and didn't want to tell you. but, he told annabeth about it.. and not you? you were offended - very offended. how dare he not share his feelings with you! the nerve of some people. it wasn't the fact he didn't tell you that hurt the most, it was the fact he'd told someone else before you. why was this the way you had to find that out? who else did percy tell..?

the idea of it all flooded your thoughts and refused to leave it for days after days. it might've been the real reason you were brooding so much. you stopped dead in your tracks as you looked over yonder. ares campers, and they seemed like they were preparing for something. your breath caught in your throat as they noticed you, a sneer forming onto their faces as they made a beheading motion, dragging their thumb across their neck in a threatening manner.

oh wow, capture the flag. your favorite.

"is too late to run back to my cabin?" you asked nervously, lacing your boots before standing up groggily. percy turned to look at you with a frown. "you gonna be okay?" you didn't spare him a glance, opting to fix your breastplate properly as you stared ahead.

"yeah, i guess." the corners of your lips curled as you made eye contact with another ares camper nearby who seemed to stare you down like a fresh piece of meat. your stomach turned as you clutched your shield tighter, exhaling shakily.

percy stared at you silently, looking forward at the line of campers then back to you. you turned to face him when you felt his hand brush against your own. he didn't react to your head turning, only leaning forward to grab your hand and hold it tightly.

you looked down at where your hands were clasped together then back to percy. he looked back you, a shaky smile making it's way onto his lips as he squeezed your hand tighter.

"for reassurance," he explained, lips tugging into a small smile. you nodded like you understood what he was doing, turning back to face in front as you tried your best to stay focused on not dying.

as so as the match started you were almost hit with an arrow, courtesy of the apollo campers, you concluded. your shoes scrapped the ground as you ran for cover, mud caking onto your shoes as your legs went as fast a they could.

you could hear yells and chants behind you as you dodged the botany of the forest, ducking down to hide behind a larger looking log as you waited for the opposing team to run past. your lungs hurt and you were pretty sure that arrow had just barely missed your face because there seemed to be a small slash on the side of your right cheek. as the sound of the footsteps grew farther and farther you moved out again, running past the log as you made your way to the East Woods.

A hushed whisper of your name caught your attention as you took notice of Annabeth who seemed to be trying to blend in with the surrounding woods.

"jeez, are you trying to get killed?" her eyebrows furrowed. "those ares campers are betting on this match." she rolled her eyes. "those brutes, you'd think they'd try to have some kind of sympathy for the people they hurt." she seemed to ramble on about something under her breath to which you did not hear nor care to even hear.

"where's percy?"

annabeth gave you a look. "i don't know," she looked to her right wearily. "i thought he was with you."

something in your stomach stirred. you'd just seen percy at the start of the match..what happened..? you frowned, moving from annabeth's hiding spot as you planted yourself onto the ground once more, equipping yourself with your weapon once more as you held it close to your chest.

"what do you think you're doing?" annabeth exclaimed. "you can't be out in the open like this, there's barely any cover. you'll be attacked."

"everywhere in this forest is the open."

"you know what i mean." annabeth sighed. "look, i've got a plan but, for to work we've gotta wait a little, okay?"

"what plan?"

"i can't tell you all of it right now." she frowned. "just follow my lead.."

you weren't too trusting of annabeth's plan yet you complied, following after her as she moved from her hiding spot, meticulously through the forest. she was quick on her feet and you tried your best to follow her example but it was harder to recreate with your mud ridden sneakers.

it happened quick, you barely registered the sound of a flurry of arrows being set off at you and annabeth, the two of you ducking out of the way as you took to your feet sloppily, running for your lives. your heart pounded as the sound of 4 different pairs of feet chased after you. annabeth panted harshly as she looked around in a flurry, grabbing your wrist as she made a sharp turn right into the weapon of an ares camper.

they raised their sword and swung down viciously without restraint. your shield was barely able to block the attack, swinging back as you put distance between the camper and annabeth. she seemed shaken up but still readied her weapon, steadying her helmet on her head.

you stared at the ares camper with furrowed eyebrows. "is it true you guys are betting on us..?"

he didn't reply, rushing forward to swing. your shield cushioned the blow yet the rather old material seemed to shatter slightly under the weight of the swing. what the hell did these campers eat?

you threw your shield to the side, backing away steadily as you steadied yourself. annabeth stepped forward as well, swinging at the camper with precision, trying her best to block the harsh slashes. you tried to catch your breath, bringing your hand to your chest as you raised up your head shakily.

you merely stepped forward for a minute when another camper rushed towards you, knocking into your body with full force as you flew to the side, slamming against the tree face first. your nerves could barely register the pain as your collapsed onto your side, falling right onto your right arm.

you cried out in pain, reach forward to clutch your arm as blood smeared against the sleeves of your clothes. you curled into yourself as your body grew heavier and heavier. you could remember the faint sound of yelling before you finally blacked out, losing consciousness.

you woke up gods knows how much later in the infirmary. your ears were ringing and your chest hurt. how long had you been in here? a few hours? a few days even? you looked around the room wearily, nobody else had been inside - it was practically empty. you tried to stand up but took notice of the fact your arm was bandaged.

what exactly happened..?

the door to the infirmary swung open, gaining your attention as your head snapped towards the figure that opened it. your eye widened slightly when you locked eyes with percy. he seemed surprised you were awake, his eyes glinting with a spark of concern.

"hey.."

"hey." you two said in unison. silence fell over the two of you as percy idled in front of your bed for a moment before pulling up a chair and placing it near your bed, sitting down on it as he gazed at you with worry.

"did you just wake up?" percy asked, trying to seem normal.

"sadly," you exhaled. "i would've liked to sleep a little longer."

"well, you were out for a while." percy said absentmindedly. "i - uh, we were kind of worried about you."

"thanks." you smiled slightly, raising your head to peer at what it was he was holding in your hands. "what's that?"

"ambrosia," percy replied, fishing out a small cube from the pouch. he held it towards your mouth, waving it around slightly as he waited for you to lean forward and bite it.

"you know i can feed myself, right?"

percy frowned. "why can't you just let me be nice?"

you didn't reply, shuffling forward as you opened your mouth, allowing percy to slip the treat into your mouth. your mouth swirled with the best flavor imaginable as you sunk into your bed with a sigh, turning your head to the side to gaze at percy who looked at you wearily.

"how long was out for?"

"pretty long, you broke your arm and a few other things when you fell," he tucked the pouch into his hoodie pocket. "those ares campers are so.."

"insane. can't believe they were betting on people's lives." your eyebrows furrowed. "isn't that fucked?"

percy hummed in response and the two of you grew quiet again. you stole a glance at percy taking notice of the slight eyebags on his face and the redness of his nose.

"annabeth told me everything," he paused. "i'm sorry i wasn't there."

you shrugged. "it was no big deal, i mean, i'm still alive, right?"

percy leaned forward in his chair, bringing his elbow to rest on the cover of your bed, bracing his head in his palm. "yeah but," he paused. "i don't know what i would've done if you didn't manage to bounce back." you stared at him quietly as he seemed to zone out.

"i don't know what i'd do with myself if you ever got hurt."

your eyes widened as you registered his words, your lips curling upwards. so, maybe he didn't hate you.. you sat up in your bed slowly, bracing against the pillow you were resting on as you turned your body towards percy.

"that's not gonna happen," you paused. "..again." percy smiled yet still looked slightly distressed about the whole situation. you reached out to cup his cheek, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you stretched them outward as far as you could.

"hey man, don't worry - i'm going to be fine, stop brooding now."

percy grunted rebuttals in response, exhaling when you finally released his face with a tired giggle, readjusting yourself to lay down on your bed as you settled in with a hum. percy rubbed his cheek soothingly, leaning forward to admire you.

you didn't register he was staring at you till you turned to your side and locked eyes with him, heart beating in your chest as the two of you stared at each other in silence. percy broke the eye contact, placing his hand on yours that laid still on the bed as he interlocked them.

you gave him a quizzical look as you squeezed his hand.

"it's for me." percy smiled sheepishly. "i wanna know that you're okay."

you didn't say anything only smiling to yourself as you closed your eyes, slowly fading out of consciousness as you dozed off clutching percy's hand.

#percy jackson #percy jackson fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #x reader #x reader fluff #pjo fluff

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 4 months

Text

w.count: 2.4k (whoops. it got away from me)

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. she's also not secretive about the fact that when you're around, it isn't baizhu either.

living in liyue for as long as you have should've meant your body was used to traversing the constant air influxes of going up and down mountains and large rock formations by now. however, contrary to what you believe to be the case, your body simply did not listen. really, it didn't listen to anything you want it to do.

it was always something. lightheadedness, severe headaches, congestion that made your eyes ache, stiff and swollen joints and muscles, small scrapes and bruises from whatever tumble you may have taken. anything that could happen always seemed to be the case with you when you walked through the door to bubu pharmacy.

it took no time at all for herbalist gui to learn your face and name. even qiqi could remember your face with her poor memory. with your regular visits, gui first suspected you were faking your aliments. of course, you could easily see how he could come to such an accusation. even you thought once or twice that you were just overthinking things, that it wasn't bad... until it was, and your conditions worsen with no kind of treatment at all.

the first time you met baizhu, you were standing rather unamused- and slightly zoned out- from yet another lecture from gui on how you need to be more careful or else you'll make the pharmacy run out of stock. he should be glad that business is practically booming with you around. instead, he was laying it on thick today... not that you were paying much attention.

"ah, so this is who the mysterious person qiqi claims needs herbs so frequently is."

you don't think you'll ever be able to forget how amused he sounded from behind you. or the look on gui's face as his boss interrupts his rambling that definitely could look like berating to anyone who wasn't used to seeing him interact with your near-daily medicine runs. you should've had a kamera on hand for such an expression.

you'll never forget exactly how awed you were to see the owner of such a renowned pharmacy for the first time either. a part of you was almost skeptical of how young he was, but then again age never equated to intelligence anyway, so that thoughtless nonsense was easily tossed out of your mind.

"yes, i guess that would be me," you sheepishly told him. "my apologies for the... neediness? for lack of better words."

"not at all. what is medicine good for if not to treat someone? it's actually quite relieving to finally put a face with a name."

"qiqi sspeakss of them sso often i almosst asssumed they were another one of her missunderstandingss." the secondary voice that no doubt came from the white snake around the doctor's neck shocked you for a moment. blinking as if taking in the absurdity of it, you easily accepted that the snake could talk.

this was teyvat where people could be born hybrids, having psychical traits of of species of being. not to mention liyue, where you knew of at least two adeptus running around the harbor. this shouldn't come as much of a shock.

"sorry about that too," the silent- i think?- you refused to tack on to the end of your sentence was left unspoken but clearly seen in your eyes. was that something to apologize for? in truth, the whole situation felt quite awkward so all you could do was talk to fill the silence. the silence that wasn't very silent anyway.

you had since stepped off to the side so gui could talk to another patron coming to pick up their prescription with the babble of the city just outside. if you didn't feel it would be rude, you would've just left and called it a day- even if you hadn't actually gotten your needed medicine from the herbalist at the desk yet. he had been too busy nagging you to hand it over before baizhu's sudden appearance.

luckily for you, baizhu was also intelligent enough he could read a room.

"please wait here. i'll go and fetch whatever medicine you need today." you make a small noise of acknowledgment before offering a small okay as he walks behind the counter and takes a paper from gui that probably had recommended herbs and salves scribbled on it for your treatment.

feeling like you just fumbled the first interaction with the pharmacy's owner, you sighed and pushed a finger to your temples before going outside. leaning yourself on the railing just outside the building, you bore yourself into counting the steps leading up to it. always getting a different answer each time since there were so many. you were so invested in your stair counting that when baizhu reappears in your peripherals with a small drawstring pouch of presumed herbs, you feel yourself flinch.

"i didn't mean to startle you," he chuckles as you gently take the pouch from him, using your other hand to dig around for the mora you know you now owe.

"it's fine. i was too engrossed in counting."

"counting?"

"the stairs."

"did you come to a final count?" he entertains.

"not even close," you say as you place the correct amount of shiny mora into his palm while watching chengsheng readjust herself by slithering once around his shoulders.

after that day, baizhu was around more often when you would stop by. your semi-normal medical pick-ups soon extend into medical treatment personally offered by baizhu in the pharmacy's back room, along with prolonged conversations to fill the free time he could offer. it was during these conversations that chengsheng decided that among the humans living in liyue, you were her favorite.

she preferred you over others so much that when you would come by the pharmacy, she would immediately demand to coil around you instead of her normal seat upon baizhu's shoulders. she would only keep to baizhu when you were around if his chi levels were running wild and she was confined to her job of maintaining them.

today was no exception to her favoritism.

you had once again shown up to bubu pharmacy, but this time not for whatever ails you, but for your annual checkup. you never used to bother with them, but shockingly enough gui had lectured you one year about it- so, to save yourself the ear strain it would be best to just get it over with.

walking up the outrageously long stairs to the pharmacy entrance, you sigh and rub your neck with a rather lackluster greeting to the open space of the front desk.

"okay gui, i'm here." you almost sigh, like keeping track with your health was such an inconvenience. dropping your arm and raising your view, you see all three of the bubu population together- which was almost rare considering they all have their own agendas to deal with near daily. "wow," you start with a smile at seeing them all, "it's like a party in here."

gui shakes his head at your lame attempt at what he assumes is a joke while qiqi abandons her post to waltz up to your side and grab the fabric that hung around your waist; a habit she's developed since you've been around more often. you're not sure why she does it, maybe it makes her feel secure or something, you weren't sure. you don't mind it regardless. you always accept her small act of presumed affection with your palm resting on her talisman tagged hat and small greeting.

baizhu blithely crosses his arms over his chest at seeing how attached qiqi has become of you. he has the hunch that even outside of the pharmacy you were pretty well-known because you were someone easily likeable, but to capture the attention of his little qiqi? color him impressed. still, he was pleased you had formed a connection with her and gui. even baizhu himself found himself enjoying your company more than he did before. each time was better than the last.

"it's lovely to see you again," the owner speaks as he uncrosses his arms into a more relaxed manner of stance. "gui informed me that you can be rather stubborn when it comes to these kinds of matters. I was worried i'd have to go and find you myself."

"i don't think you would have to go that far. even if i didn't show up today, i would've been back eventually. then you could've tied me up and thrown me into a forced state of compliance."

"that wouldn't be very hospitable of a doctor, i'm afraid."

a small tug on your hip directs your attention downwards as qiqi looks up at you.

"doctor baizhu will be taking care of you today," she says slowly, almost lethargically. you blink a few times in confusion for a moment before nodding to her.

"really now? what an a honor." it wasn't often baizhu did things like this, such common checkups were handled mostly by gui. you wonder if chengsheng kicked up some sort of fuss about it? 'nevermind,' you shake your head and internalize your thoughts, 'it doesn't matter.'

"best not to waste much more time," baizhu says, rounding the counter and coming up to your side before replacing your hand with his own on qiqi's head. "run along now, qiqi." she's quick to obey and gui returns to whatever it is he does all day long. you're ushered out and soon back to the room you've been in thousands of times before.

just like normal, you sat yourself down in one of the two stools baizhu keeps at his desk. just like normal, baizhu offers you tea for your time and just like normal you accept. just like normal, he walks back and forth along the many shelves of herbs and equipment for what he needs for the day's work. and just like normal, chengsheng is slithering down baizhu's outstretched arm, onto the desk and then quickly up yours as you offer it to her.

"aw, i've missed you too chengsheng," you coo. she always hisses when you treat her like a common snake, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. another perk of being the favorite.

"it'ss just nicce to not be coiled around a man who smellss like grasss all the time," she plays off as she coils comfortably around your shoulders and even curling up your head to pass through your hair. most definitely forming knots in her wake.

as baizhu comes back to your side, you watch as he places his required items down.

"it never gets easier," you say.

"and what exactly are you talking about?"

"how... empty you look without chengsheng."

baizhu chuckles.

"yes, well, it feels as empty as it looks." he looks at the pearl white snake around you, clearly nuzzling into you more than him, and he smiles warmly at it. "she looks much better wrapped around you, than me."

"uh-huh," you scoff, bringing your palm up to cup her head and lightly nudging her away from your ear. she was making your skin tingle with her scales against the small sensitive limb. "i totally believe you."

"i've never spoken a word of a lie to you."

you always applaud yourself for not absolutely losing your cool for the things that could come out of baizhu's mouth. the way he can easily say things that were well past embarrassing without so much as blinking was almost awe-inspiring. if you didn't know any better, you'd think sometimes he was flirting with you- but it was baizhu and he was always kind and polite to anyone. that was just who he was.

your checkup runs smoothly and even though nothing can fix your accident-prone lifestyle, you were still healthy and ready to take on more scraps and falls.

now, the hardest part of every pharmacy visit was about to commence. convincing chengsheng to return to her contractor without much fuss.

"chengsheng," you nervously say her name with a slight shake in your voice. she was always a sassy snake, but when she didn't get to indulge in what she wanted, which was simply snuggly laying around your shoulders for just a while longer... she could be a handful. "you know you can't leave with me."

she meets you nowhere with silence- not even attempting to meet you halfway somewhere. nope, she's leaving you high and dry. baizhu watches with half amused eyes, a hand on his hip and the other reached out to brush against her scales.

"what if i walked our dear y/n home? would you willingly part with them then?"

"what?" baizhu had never walked you home before, you always insisted he not since he was a busy man, and it wasn't like you couldn't take care of yourself. this opportunity easily hooked the snake's attention as she lifted her previously curled head and looked at her contractor- you know, the man she was supposed to be unwaveringly loyal to.

"do we have a deal?" he chided, knowing that eventually she was going to let you go one way or the other. whether it be now by him prying her off you physically or walking you home and having her come back willingly. her forked tongue flicked out before coiling one full rotation around your neck and up your head, so her reptilian 'chin' sat on your crown.

"if i must," which was chengsheng for 'yes, we do'.

so, with you and chengsheng waiting at the top of the stone stairs, baizhu popped inside to inform gui and qiqi he would be stepping out for a bit. qiqi had peaked around the open front and waved goodbye to you, which you returned happily before baizhu came to your side. his hand came to hover at your back, so close you could almost feel his palm but never actually touching, and offered you start taking steps ahead of him.

back from inside the pharmcy at the desk, qiqi walked back to gui's side as they both watched their boss walk off with you.

"qiqi likes when y/n is around," she speaks monotonously- but she meant it.

"yeah," gui agrees, watching both your heads disappear further down the stairs with chengsheng still clinging to you. "you aren't the only one," he chuckles.

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. her contractor, however- even if he thinks he's being slick about it- cannot hide that he does too.

and wouldn't you believe it? all evidence always leads back to you.

#genshin impact #baizhu x reader #baizhu fluff #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #baizhu x y/n #baizhu x you #genshin impact baizhu #baizhu headcanons #baizhu drabble #baizhu fic

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multifandom-hcs · 4 months

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heyo! first time asking~

hcs of how wukong, macaque and mk (separately but if you don’t write more than one character then just macaque) would react to their s/o who has a brother who looks exactly like her but male? like they: *screams in bisexual*

𝗦𝗢 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗜'𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗔 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗪 😭💔

Y/N = Your name

T/N = Twin Name

MONKEY TRIO (INDIVIDUAL) X FEM! READER WHO HAS AN IDENTICAL TWIN

MK:

✩ Poor boy was so confused at first

✩ So, quick context. MK went to your house to say hello and play videogames as usual until your twin opened the door.

✩ His first reaction was "Oh hey Y/N! You cut your hair?? Looks cute on you darling!"

✩ Suddenly your voice behind the person infront of him made him realize he wasn't talking to you

✩ "Oh hey MK!" You said leaving MK in confusion and shock "AM I SEEING DOUBLE OR SOMETHING?!"

✩ He would be slightly offended you didn't told him (or maybe you forgot) about your identical twin yet he's happy to meet him (after apologizing a million times about the confusion)!

✩ He has to admit tho, the similitude between you and your twin was quite enough to make him internally have a bisexual panic, specially when at a certain moment he said "Gotta admit sis, your boyfriend is kinda cute"

✩ Eventually T/N and MK managed to get along quite well playing videogames etc.

Wukong:

✯ He has to admit this was quite a surprise for him

✯ He was absolutely clueless that you had a twin, specifically an identical twin

✯ So the day he went to your house with his usual "civilian" outfit he would be confused and surprised of seeing this slightly taller but masculine version of yourself

✯ "OMG Y/N YOU CAN CLONE YOURSELF AS WELL??" The great sage was already jumping into conclusions watching closely at what he thought was a clone of you

✯ Eventually you would explain the whole situation and Wukong would still be amazed and even with a small blush on his face

✯ After presenting himself with a smile eventually he would grab your arm looking at you slightly offended "How come you never told me about your identical sibling?!"

✯ The only answer Wukong would obtain would be a shrug and a playful smile "Whoops my bad"

✯ He will forgive you for not telling him earlier, just give him a bag of peach chips and boom, apology accepted

Macaque:

❋ Unlike MK and Wukong, the monkey was kinda aware you had a twin thanks to his overprotective nature

❋ Long story short he had managed to see you talking once with a guy, his jelousness appeared and after the guy walked away he would ask in a definitely chill tone who was that, you replied that it was your sibling making Macaque a little embarrassed

❋ What he didn't knew tho was that you and your twin looked identical

❋ Probably just like MK he met him with a misunderstanding

❋ Macaque had the evil intentions of scaring you in some random place at your house, but when he appeared he would say something like "BOO!... Hey did you cut your hair or sm??" "Excuse me who are you??"

❋ When you made presence however poor Mac thought he was dreaming or hallucinating , yet after you explained who this person identical to you is he said "Well damn.. I guess being hot runs in the family"

❋ In the end the flirting stayed like a joke between both T/N and Macaque, but if he notices you start to get jelous or uncomfortable he will inmediatly drop that attitude

❋ After all, he just wants his s/o to be comfortable and notice that he actually wants to get along with your family!

‎ ‎

︶ ꒷ ︶︶︶︶ ꒷꒦ ‧₊ ୧

Thank you for the request my dear anon! Again really sorry for the delay! By the way letting everyone know I'll also be writing for some S4 characters, for now only Azure tho so sorry Peng and Yellowtusk fans 😢

#lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #six eared macaque x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #mk x reader #lmk mk x reader

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proxima-writes · 10 months

Text

the last great american dynasty

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.8k (whoops)

summary:

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up.

He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream

author's note:

inspo board this work is inspired by taylor swift's song "the last great american dynasty" and is part of the folklore album anthology! if you enjoy, please consider reblogging/commenting and make sure to check out the other works by the amazing collaborators on this project.

tags/warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, work contains journal entries as part of the plot, porn with plot, pre-outbreak!joel, grandma is a named OFC, sassy reader, dirty talk, teasing, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paint as a flirting mechanism, mild enemies to lovers, pet names. let me know if there are any missing!

August 20, 1948

I have arrived in Texas. I am uncertain where to go or what to do. For so long I’ve answered only to George, but now I am my own woman and the world before me has suddenly become much bigger, seemingly overnight.

I just hope it will be good for me.

-R

PRESENT DAY

If there’s one thing you never expected, it’s to inherit a mansion from a grandmother that you’ve never spoken to. As far as you were aware that kind of thing only happened in movies, so receiving a phone call from an estate lawyer that had been trying to locate you for a whole year since this mystery woman’s passing was a complete shock.

Now you find yourself with a car full of your belongings driving cross country to a sleepy suburb of Austin, Texas. The first stop is the lawyer’s office, where a secretary eyes you warily as you sit in the lobby of the lush office suite, fingers toying with a loose thread on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for the last eight-hour leg of your road trip.

A voice calls your name from a door just past the secretary’s desk, an older man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face smiling kindly at you. You stand, shaking his hand as you pass by him into his office. He gestures to the wingback chairs that face his impressive dark wood desk. You take in the diplomas on the wall and the floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with thick, leather bound tomes.

“I appreciate you comin’ all the way out here so quickly. You were quite the tough one to find,” the man says with a chuckle. He pulls out a thick envelope, cream colored with swooping, swirling handwriting across the front reading your name. “Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine. She established a trust in your name not long after you were born.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a little confused. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother,” you admit quietly. He nods solemnly.

“She never told me all the details, but there had been a falling out between her and her daughter. They kept their distance after that.” When you don’t say anything, mind too busy racing with the questions that you suppose only your mom can answer now, he continues. “Would you like the review the details of the trust?”

“Um, sure. I guess that’s why I’m here, after all.”

He slips a piece of paper from the folder, sliding it across the desk. The same swirling handwriting fills the page.

My Dearest,

You may not know me, but I’ve watched you grow in photographs and letters since you were born. You mean the world to me, even if I could not fit in the world that your mother created for you. I respected that choice, hurt though it may have. She had her own path to forge, just as I did, and just as you will. I am eternally grateful for the parts of her life she did share after she left.

In the event of my passing, I leave my estate to you in its entirety. I built my true happiness in those walls, and I hope you can do the same.

-R

You read the letter twice, eyes stinging with tears. A tissue box slides across the desk, and you pluck two sheets out gratefully.

“In this envelope are the more official documents. The deed transfer that will need your signature, beneficiary statements for her banking and savings accounts, things like that. My office will handle all the paperwork filing,” the man says. A few more forms are laid out on the desk, and you lean forward to read them.

“Holy shit,” you snap, eyes wide as you swipe the beneficiary statement from the wood. “There must be too many zeroes in this, right? Or a rogue comma? That can’t be the right amount.”

“I assure you that’s the correct amount,” he says with a laugh. “And if you’ll sign down there, it’ll be transferred to your name and designated account.”

Your mouth goes dry as you read through the rest of the documents. In addition to the sizeable amount of money about to hit your bank account, there’s a five-bedroom house being transferred into your name, as well as a safety deposit box. You sign each form where directed, sliding them back over to the lawyer.

“I believe this is yours,” he says, holding a house key out to you. He drops it into your open palm. “Good luck.”

“I wish they would just put that place up for sale already,” Joel grumbles from the passenger seat of his brother’s truck as they drive by the out-of-place 1920s Victorian home on their way to a job site.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past year since that poor old woman passed,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Give it up, brother. Your dream house is just goin’ to rot away before your eyes.”

“Don’t you say that,” Joel replies. He doesn’t need Tommy speaking his fear into the universe.

The house has already been showing signs of falling apart in the last ten years Joel has lived in the neighborhood. The roof needs work, the shutters need replacing, the lawn is overgrown, and there’s a sizable hole in the wrap-around porch that seems to get bigger over time.

He’s wanted that house since the first time he saw it while he was house hunting ten years ago, a then three-year-old Sarah on his hip as he toured a nice little house that was available in the neighborhood at the time. While the home he’s built with his daughter through long days of hard work is nothing to scoff at, he’s always dreamed of something with more character and story.

He just hopes he’ll get his chance.

You stare up at the old house in front of you, shielding your eyes from the late afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful house, though there’s no denying its seen better days – two stories with large bay windows on both floors, white wood siding and chipped red shutters that are clinging to their rusty hardware, a large wrap around porch that has vines encroaching on the banisters, a lawn overgrown with weeds. You tentatively climb the steps of the porch, peeking nervously into the large hole in the wood to the left of the front door.

“That’s private property,” a gruff voice calls out, making you jump. You turn, finding a man standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You ain’t supposed to be snoopin’ around.”

“Actually—”

“Why don’t you just head home, sweetheart, and I won’t have to call the cops,” the stranger says, cutting you off. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“This is—”

The man huffs, arms dropping as he digs in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a cell phone. “Seriously, I’ll give you until the count of three. We don’t need trouble around this neighborhood, alright?”

The nerve, you think, narrowing your eyes at the man. Since he clearly doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, you decide to take a different route. You reach into the pocket of your shorts, pulling out the key that the lawyer had given you earlier that day. You take a sideways step closer to the door, keeping your eyes on the man as you pointedly insert the key into the lock and opening the heavy wood door.

His mouth drops open in surprise and you smile at him.

“You were saying?”

Joel had seen the car parked in the driveway of the empty house when Tommy dropped him off after work. He’d quickly checked on Sarah, newly thirteen and fiercely independent, finding her working on her homework at the kitchen table, before making his way across the street.

He hadn’t expected to find a gorgeous woman snooping around the old house, curves hugged in denim shorts and a tank top that made his mouth water. He also hadn’t expected the woman to produce a key from the pocket of those sinfully tight shorts.

“You were saying?” You ask, lips curved in a smirk and eyebrows raised at him. When Joel doesn’t immediately reply, still too stunned that you have access to the house, you turn and walk through the door, shutting it behind you.

He finally shakes himself of his shock, bounding up the steps and knocking on the door. You pull it back open.

“I’ll buy it from you,” Joel says immediately.

“Excuse me?” You reply, your hands moving to your hips. “It’s not for sale.”

“Come on, what’s a girl like you need all this space for?” Your mouth drops open, pretty lips stretched wide in surprise and Joel struggles to keep his thoughts from drifting to sinful places.

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re young, that’s all. You don’t need a house this big and this much of a project!”

“What makes you think I don’t have a big ol’ family I’m moving in here? Four kids and a loving husband?!”

Joel blinks. “You got four kids and a lovin’ husband?”

“No, but that’s besides the point.” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not for sale. Now get off my porch before I call the cops on you.”

With that final word, the door shuts in Joel’s face again, the sound of your retreating footsteps signaling the end of the discussion.

November 12, 1948

There’s a gentleman who comes into the diner every Tuesday. He always sits in one of my booths, with his perfect hair and suit and handsome face distracting me until he leaves. Some of the other waitresses try talking to him but he doesn’t pay them any mind. They’ve whispered to me before that he comes from money - oil, or something, not that it matters.

His name is William, and I think he’s trying to steal my heart.

-R

“So, let me get this straight. First, you threatened to call the police on this woman. Then, rather than introducin’ yourself or welcomin’ her to the neighborhood or even apologizin’, you just go straight to tellin’ her she doesn’t need a house that big and that you wanna buy it from her. Did I hear that right?” Tommy says, watching Joel as he throws together dinner the following evening.

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Sarah says. Joel huffs.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He sips his beer as his daughter and brother share a look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’,” they say in tandem. Joel narrows his eyes as Sarah breaks out in giggles. Tommy stands, heading to Joel’s pantry and rifling through the shelves until he finds an unopened bottle of whiskey buried in the back.

“What are you doin’ with that?” Joel asks.

“Welcomin’ your new neighbor like the gentleman I am. Sarah, watch the pasta while I show your dad how it’s done,” Tommy replies, heading for the front door, Joel trailing behind him.

Tommy crosses the street with quick steps, eyeing the porch dubiously as he knocks on the door. Joel stands beside him, hands shoved in his pockets as he curses under his breath about his brother’s stupid antics.

You open the door, dressed this time in a pretty sundress that makes Joel’s mouth go dry. Tommy flashes you a grin and Joel can’t help the annoyance he feels when his brother’s eyes trail over your body.

“Hey there! I’m Tommy Miller, you may have met my dumbass brother over here the other day. I’m certain he didn’t make the best impression, so I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding the whiskey out to you.

You introduce yourself, ignoring Joel. “Thank you so much, Tommy. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure thing,” his traitorous brother replies, stepping over the threshold. When Joel makes a move to follow, you give him a pointed look before shutting the door in his face.

“You want a beer, Tommy?” You ask the handsome man in your kitchen. You can’t help but be impressed by the genetics of the Miller family, both men tall and tan and handsome as hell. Sure, one of them could use a lesson on manners, but you’ll admit that since your confrontation your mind has drifted to thoughts of brown eyes and soft dark hair that belong to the brother you left on the porch out of spite.

“Yes, please,” Tommy says politely. You open the dated refrigerator and grab two beer bottles, popping the caps against the countertop and handing one to him. “This sure is a nice place.”

“Thanks. I just inherited it from my grandma,” you explain. “It’s a little…dated.”

He chuckles. “We call it ‘character’ in contractin’.”

“That what you guys do, then? Contracting?”

“Sure is. Miller Brothers Contracting and Construction.” Tommy scratches at the label on the bottle before saying, “Look, I know my brother can come off the wrong way. He didn’t get the social genes. But he’s a good guy, and he’s loved this house since the first time he saw it. Always wanted to buy it, fix it up, raise his little girl here. Maybe add to his family one day.”

You look around the rundown kitchen. You’ve only been here a day and you know you’ve got your work cut out for you. The electrical and plumbing are all outdated, the appliances need replacing, the floors need to be refurbished, and that’s just the first floor. You could use some help with it all, and maybe the grumpy contractor next door who cares about the house could help you with it all.

“I appreciate that he loves the house but…I never met my grandma. Never even knew who she was or that she was even alive, and it’s the only connection I have to her. I don’t know if this is going to be my forever but…I want to at least give it a shot.”

Tommy smiles. “We could help with that.”

It feels like ages before Tommy’s stepping back out onto the porch, a beer in his hand that makes Joel frown.

“Y’all were havin’ drinks while I sat out here like an ass?” He asks incredulously. Tommy throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, and if you don’t quit your whinin’ I’m not goin’ to tell you about our lovely conversation,” the younger man says as he walks with Joel back to his house.

In the kitchen, Sarah is pouring the pasta sauce and ground beef over the noodles. Joel takes over and waves her away, mumbling his thanks as he mixes the ingredients together. He sets up two plates, setting one in front of his daughter and sitting down with the other. Tommy makes an affronted sound before fixing his own plate.

“So?” Joel asks. Tommy slurps at his food.

“Was the lady nice?” Sarah asks.

“No,” Joel replies at the same time Tommy says, “Yes.”

Joel glares at Tommy. “You gonna tell me what she said or what?”

“She ain’t sellin’,” Tommy finally says. “But, she wants to fix the place up. Offered our services so you could get your grubby fuckin’ hands in there.”

“Language,” Joel says, eyes flicking to Sarah. The girl rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Yep. Better start callin’ the guys. From what I saw we’re dealin’ with electrical from the 50s, plumbing from who knows when, not to mention the HVAC and roof will need to be upgraded, too.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before grinning at Joel. “You up for the challenge?”

“Hell yeah.”

August 23, 1949

William and I have just been married.

I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. But he is truly the light of my life.

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. I’m still not abreast of all these new societal expectations that surround a man like William, but I’m willing to try. Today he will be taking me around to view houses in the more opulent neighborhoods, the type of homes I used to gawk at but one of them will be mine.

I must be dreaming.

-R

Joel and Tommy start working on the house right away. Every day there’s a line of pick-up trucks parked on the curb and the sounds of construction start early in the morning and continue into the late evening. The electrician and plumber come through first, updating the wiring and pipes through the whole house. The roofers and HVAC come through next, replacing the crumbling shingles and dated central unit with a split system for each level of the house.

It’s not until the big projects are done that you get to have fun with the place, which is how you found yourself methodically painting the front door a muted lime green early one morning.

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

You sigh. Despite Tommy’s assurances that Joel is a great guy beneath the grumpy control freak exterior, you’ve continued to only get the side of the man that grates your nerves.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m painting the door.”

“You can’t paint the door that color,” Joel says, heavy footsteps stomping up your newly repaired porch.

“Says who?” You retort. You smear another stroke of paint over the sanded wood.

“Me, for one. The historical society, for two.” He pulls the brush from your hand and holds it above his head and out of your reach. The movement drags his shirt up, exposing a strip of tan belly with a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. “Why are you bein’ a pain in the ass?”

“I was put on this earth simply to make your life more difficult, Joel Miller. Isn’t that obvious?” You reply sarcastically. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like you got that right. “What are you even doing over here? It’s Saturday.”

“We’re goin’ to the store. You gotta start pickin’ stuff out for the bathrooms and kitchen,” he says, tossing the paint brush into the tray. “And then we’re gettin’ a new color to cover this up.”

Joel leaves the porch and you follow behind him to the black pick-up truck idling by the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and you raise your eyebrow at the gesture but climb inside.

January 3, 1950

Our New Year’s party is the talk of the town. There were so many people in the house I began to lose count. William had so much champagne ordered I swear we could fill an entire swimming pool with it all.

The ladies at the club have already begun to ask when we would host our next event. I can’t wait to plan another.

-R

“Can you please focus?” Joel begs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’s laid out three tile combinations, one for each bathroom in the home, and he needs you to look at them but you keep getting distracted.

“You’re no fun,” you huff. You examine the tiles, pointing to a turquoise blue one he’s picked for the shower in the master. “I love that.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. She can be reasoned with.”

You giggle and Joel can’t help the smile it prompts from him, the sound of your laugh so sweet compared to your sharp tongue.

“I like the white and blue combinations for upstairs, but in that powder room I want a pink theme,” you tell him. Your eyes search the displays, landing on a blush pink glass subway tile option. “Like this!”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel replies without thinking, taking the sample from you and comparing it next to the floor tile he’d chosen for that bathroom. When he glances at you, you’re giving him a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shaking your head. “What about the kitchen?”

“What were you thinking for in there?”

“Green cabinets. White and black backsplash, the kind with the little hexagons that look like flowers. I gotta pick out appliances now that the electrical can sustain newer ones, too.” You pause. “And how do you feel about wallpaper?”

“It’s the devil,” Joel replies.

Your grin is downright mischievous. “Excellent.”

February 2, 1956

William had a heart attack. It scared me so badly that I haven’t let him out of my sight since. The doctor said he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, and not sleeping enough. Maybe the parties have started to be too much for him.

I’ve been feeling unlike myself. Tired, nauseated. Hopefully my heart isn’t troubled, too.

-R

Joel places a hefty order for all the items you’ve picked out today from nearly every aisle of the store - tile for the bathrooms and kitchen, vanities and plumbing fixtures, countertops, lighting, and appliances. While he’s preoccupied with calculations and measurements and pricing things out, you pick out paint and wallpaper for the projects you’ll be able to do on your own.

He finds you a while later, a cart full of paint buckets and supplies. To your surprise, he grins.

“More paint, huh? You pick a new one for the door?” He asks. You smile back at him, butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“Yep. Does navy blue suffice, your highness? I thought we could paint the trim the same color.”

Joel nods. “Good choice. Look, I’ve kept you here so long for all the orderin’. You wanna get lunch?”

“Careful, Joel. I’m like a stray cat - once you start feeding me, I might never leave,” you reply with a laugh. You push your heavy cart of paint towards the exit.

You miss the soft smile he gives to your retreating figure.

September 23, 1956

Our daughter is here. She’s the sweetest little thing, though she can screech like a banshee when she sees fit. William is so besotted, he keeps looking between the two of us with stars in his eyes like he can’t believe how lucky he is.

I love them both with my whole heart and soul.

-R

Joel takes you to a retro family diner with black-and-white checkerboard flooring and red vinyl accents with a vintage jukebox in the corner. You’re delighted by the themed menu, eyes immediately zeroing in on the classic malt shakes and french fries.

Over lunch, Joel actually opens up to you. He tells you about going into construction right out of high school and dragging Tommy into it when he’d gotten back from serving his tour with the Army. He talks about his daughter, Sarah, and you can’t help the smile that stretches your lips as you watch his eyes light up while he talks about his little girl. She’s at a sleepover this weekend, which gave him the extra time to visit the home improvement store this morning.

In turn, you tell him about getting the call from the lawyer one afternoon that changed your life forever. How you’d packed up everything you owned and driven across the country to find out that you had a grandmother that your mother never told you about that left you her entire estate.

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Joel says when you’ve paused to take a sip of your chocolate shake.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks. You both look up at the elderly woman dressed in a t-shirt with the restaurant’s logo and pressed slacks. She smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and ever since you sat down I’ve been wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to place your face and it’s just hit me.”

She holds out a framed black and white photo of six waitresses standing beneath the same sign that’s still out front, all of them grinning at the camera. There’s one face, however, that looks familiar despite you never having seen her.

“Her name was Rebecca. We used to work together. That’s me, right there,” she says, pointing to the girl standing to the woman’s left. “Rolled up to town at eighteen, fresh off a divorce and hardly a penny to her name. My daddy, god rest his soul, he owned the restaurant and gave her a job when she’d come through lookin’ for work.”

“Wow,” you murmur. “This is insane. Do you have any other pictures?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “‘Fraid not, darlin’. Just the one. But I know she kept a lot of journals. Was always scribblin’ in one and spent what little extra cash she had makin’ sure she had a new notebook ready. Maybe they’re still around?”

July 16, 1958

William…

William is gone. My light, my love, my world. The doctor said his heart just…stopped. In his sleep, right beside me.

I have to continue to live with a hole in my own heart, the piece that William stole years ago gone with him.

But I have to be strong for our daughter. Our brave girl, my little bird.

-R

When Joel brings you back to the house, you stare up at the facade, wondering if the journals the woman had spoken about could still be inside. Lost in thought, your eyes land on the little window that sits above the bay windows on the second floor, where the master bedroom is. You’ve been sleeping in that room for months now and you know there’s no window there that you can see from the inside.

“Hey, Joel?” You call out, eyes still fixed on the little window like it might disappear if you look away. “This place is only two stories. How come there’s a window there?”

He looks up at the roof. “Huh. Might be decorative?”

“Or it might be a secret room,” you tell him.

“Okay, Sherlock. Let’s go see.”

You lead him upstairs to the master bedroom, most of your grandma’s furniture still present save for the bed that you replaced upon arriving. You stare up at the ceiling, but it’s smooth - no trap doors to be found.

“If I were a secret door, where would I hide?” You ask.

Joel, who’d been poking his head into the walk-in closet, replies, “Probably the closet.”

There’s a creak of old hinges as Joel reaches up high and tugs the brass pull handle fixed in the ceiling. A descending ladder falls to the ground and you both stare at each other in surprise.

“I’ll go grab a flashlight,” Joel offers, sprinting from the room. You stare up at the hole in the ceiling, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

He returns quickly. “I’ll go up first.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you tease, watching as he ascends the ladder, your eyes shamelessly fixed to his ass as he climbs. You hear the click of the flashlight and see the sweep of the beam through the opening in the ceiling. “Anything?”

“Lots of suitcases. Hang on, let me grab one of the small ones,” he calls down. There’s the sound of something being dragged across the floor before he’s slowly lowering a leather suitcase into your hands.

It’s surprisingly heavy and you drag it by the handle to the bedroom, kneeling on the ground to pop the latches and open the dusty lid. Inside are stacks of leather bound notebooks, edges of the pages yellow with age.

“I’ll be damned,” Joel says, wiping his palms against his jeans. “We found the journals.”

Joel drags the suitcase downstairs, setting it in the living room for you while you order pizza and open a bottle of wine for the occasion. You sit beside each other on the couch and he hands you a journal that you carefully open.

May 17, 1974

We had another argument last night. She claims that I’ve been too overbearing, too protective, too stifling, but what else is a mother meant to do?

-R

May 18, 1974

Her bed was cold and empty this morning. Her piggy bank smashed to bits on the floor and her drawers cleared. Despite my tight grip, my little bird has flown away.

It appears that history does repeat itself. Imagine that.

-R

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting back on the couch with your glass of wine in one hand and one of your grandma’s journals in the other. “She ran away.”

“Who did?” Joel asks, biting into a slice of pizza.

“My mom. She just…packed up and disappeared.” You glance at him. “Guess that’s why I never knew about her.”

“Maybe you should stop uncoverin’ dark family secrets for the night,” Joel suggests. “You know, the dining room could stand to be painted.”

You glance over to the room in question. Joel must have set down the drop cloth on the floor while you’d been engrossed in your discovery.

“Sure. Why not,” you acquiesce.

October 29, 1976

I’ve received an envelope of photographs in the mail, pictures of my daughter holding a little baby. She’s written notes on the back of each one. I’m a grandmother.

My daughter looks happy. Healthy. That’s all I can ask. She didn’t provide a return address.

As for the baby…I love her so much. She takes my breath away. I keep one of the photos on me at all times.

-R

Joel turns on the radio while he works, humming along to the classic rock station selections. He’s been working on painting the wall near the wood molding while he left you with a paint roller to cover the middle of the wall. He looks up at you occasionally, admiring the way your muscles work as you wash the wall with color.

You must sense that he’s watching, turning your head over your shoulder and looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. You smile at him, setting the roller in the tray. He can’t help but look at your ass in your tight leggings as you bend over.

You straighten up, walking over to him. There’s a glint in your eye that has Joel on high alert.

“You got a little something on your face,” you tell him.

“No, I don’t,” he counters. He’s a master at painting. He knows damn well he doesn’t have a drop on him.

“Yeah, you do,” you argue. You reach out, and your fingers smooth across his forehead. “Right there!”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets out a bark of laughter, bringing his fingers up to his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, they’re stained blue and you’re grinning at him like a mad woman.

“Yeah? Well, you got some right—“ He smears his paintbrush across your chest and you try to step back, but it’s too late. “—there,” he finishes.

You rush back to the paint tray and dip your hands in the liquid, brandishing your palms like weapons. He starts to advance on you, smirking as you back up.

“Stay back,” you command. Joel laughs, dodging your swinging arms as he charges, dropping low to press a shoulder into your belly, dragging you down to the ground in a heap of limbs.

He presses his body to yours as he reaches an arm out to the paint tray, covering his own hand in paint. Your eyes go wide and you squirm beneath him, your paint covered palms reaching up under his shirt to press the cold liquid to his ribs. He flinches away, giving you enough room to scramble out from under him.

Joel grabs your arm, paint smearing on your skin as he tugs you back down. You wrestle together, paint getting everywhere as he lets you straddle his waist. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing tightly as he stares up into your face.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice low. Your lashes flutter, hips canting over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He groans, hands urging you to do it again.

“What’s my prize?”

Joel slips his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top, dragging the paint stained material up and over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze burns across your newly exposed skin.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He says, a hand sliding up your belly to palm one of your breasts. Your head drops back as you moan.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his eyes grow darker, his gaze more heated. “Come on, Miller. What’s my prize?”

With a growl Joel sits up, wrapping an arm around your low back and twisting your bodies until you’re on your back, staring up at him as his lips stretch in a devious smirk. His fingers curl into the waistband of your leggings, sliding the fabric down your legs. His touch paints your skin blue as he does.

His hands press your thighs apart, opening you up. Your cheeks heat as he stares down at you like he’s trying to commit every curve of you to his memory. Finally, he leans in and you can feel his breath ghosting over your heated flesh.

Joel’s tongue traces through your slick folds, a broad stroke that has you gasping and arching your back. He hums against your sensitive flesh as he repeats the languid motion, his stubble catching on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You reach your hands down to tangle in his hair, paint catching on the strands as you tug and pull. He groans against you, tongue moving faster as he circles your clit before pulling it between his lips. A hand leaves your thigh, the one not coated in paint, and two thick fingers press to your entrance, sliding inside of you as you gasp out Joel’s name.

“Christ,” he groans as he presses in deep before withdrawing slowly, curling his digits against your front wall, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, pretty girl. That for me?”

“Uh huh,” you reply, breathless as you work your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Joel watches you, his lips and chin shiny from his efforts. “Joel, please!”

“Please what?” His hand moves faster, fingers pressing harder as his lips spread in a lascivious grin that makes your toes curl. “Come on, baby, ask me real nice and I’ll give you anythin’. Ain’t that right? You know damn well you’ve had me wrapped around your sassy little finger since the moment we met, don’t you?”

You whine, nodding your head quickly. “Knew you were a glutton for punishment.”

“Could say that again,” he says, chuckling as he lands a smash to the outside of your thigh with his free hand. “Now, come on, baby. Follow directions. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum, Joel. Please!”

“Good girl,” he growls, lowering his lips to your pussy to lick at your clit. He hums as he lavishes the sensitive bud with attention and it’s the final push you need over the razor's edge you’d been teetering on since he started. You press your thighs against his head as your nerves light up and your muscles go tight with pleasure, his movements slowing as he works you through your release.

Your muscles go limp, head dropping back to the floor with a thunk. Joel sits up, crawling up your body and trailing kisses across your tummy and chest in the patches of skin not covered by paint. He grips your chin, holding you steady as his lips press to yours in a kiss so deep you worry you’re at risk of drowning.

Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops in a frenzy. He stands quickly, freeing himself of his jeans and boxers in one motion before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off while you admire his labor-toned body.

Joel drops to his knees, pressing his hips to yours and dragging the thick head of his cock through your sensitive pussy, bumping your clit and making you both groan in tandem. His forearms rest on the floor beside your head as he teases you like this, slow drags of his length through your wetness, the tantalizing catch of him at your aching hole. You tilt your hips slightly, hoping he gets the hint, and he chuckles.

“You know the drill, baby,” he says, breathless with his own desire. “Just say the word.”

“Fuck me, Joel, please.”

His cock slips inside of you with little resistance, the stretch of him making you gasp. His eyes remain fixed to yours as he bottoms out and you smile up at him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Joel gives a small, experimental thrust that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. He does it again, a sharper snap of his hips making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulder. He builds his own rhythm, one that has your hips chasing his on every pull from your body, one that has you chanting his name and staring up at him like he’s a god and you’re simply a sacrifice on his altar.

He sits back on his heels, the angle changing as your hips get lifted onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist, fingertips pressing tightly to your ribs as he uses your body for his pleasure, pounding into you roughly.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, bringing a thumb to your clit in quick circles. “Come on, sweetheart, want you to cum on my cock. Was so pretty on my fingers.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the near overstimulation but you nod, wanting to give this man whatever he wants if it means he’ll keep touching you, holding you, looking at you.

You cum again with a shout of his name and he groans, deep and visceral as he presses in deep, holding your hips to his as his cock pulses inside of you with his release.

Joel slowly lowers your hips to the ground, withdrawing from your body as he does. He flops gracelessly to the floor beside you, sweat damp chest heaving with exertion. His head turns to yours, grin wide and eyes bright.

“You’re covered in paint,” he comments, reaching out to run his hand across a streak on your collarbone.

“So are you,” you reply, mimicking the gesture against his ribs.

“What do you say to a shower?”

You smirk at him before jumping up and racing to the doorway.

“I’d say last one there doesn’t get the hot water!”

You can hear his curse as you rush up the stairs, making it halfway before a strong arm wraps around you and stops you in your tracks, your laughter echoing through the house.

June 27, 1993

The neighborhood has changed so vastly. Much of the older homes have been torn down and replaced with less handsome architecture. The residents grow younger while I continue to age. Just last week a handsome young man and his darling daughter moved in down the street. He looks exhausted. I remember those days.

Not all the neighbors are lovely. Harold next door has an annoying dog that barks at all hours. He prances her around like a show pony, when she’s just a yappy little creature.

-R

ONE YEAR LATER

The house is finally finished. All the tile has been laid, everything has been painted, appliances delivered, holes repaired, fixtures installed, and wallpaper glued. You go downstairs for coffee in the morning, you take it to the parlor room you’ve made into a study. Floor to ceiling bookshelves display every journal you’d unearthed from the hiding place in the attic, each one read through cover to cover.

When you finally told your mom about what you’d been up to, her surprise and hurt could be felt even through the phone. You mailed one of her mother’s journals to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said the next time you spoke. “So much time had passed and I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.”

You don’t begrudge her decisions. Your grandma left you her story, and through that you’ve been able to know her.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs precede Joel’s appearance in the study, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes half shut. He drops beside you on the couch, grabbing your coffee from your hands and taking a sip of it.

“Is it everything you’ve always wanted?” You ask him, tilting your head to his shoulder. You still remember the way he’d been desperate to buy the house from you and you laugh at how the world works, given that he now wakes up in bed beside you and is tasked with the lawn maintenance every weekend. He presses a kiss to your head.

“It’s even better.”

June 29, 1993

I don’t think the dog will be bothering the neighborhood again anytime soon.

Turns out he doesn’t hold as much pride for the dog when she’s been dyed lime green.

Imagine that.

-R

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #tlou fic #taylor swift folklore #folklore anthology #joel miller folklore

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undercoverpena · 7 months

Text

can you ever really know?

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

summary: marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

word count: 3k warnings: smut, marcus eating you out on a table (f!recieving). dedication: this is a dual dedication, both to @perotovar who i adore and has spurned me on, and to @psychedelic-ink who whooped so hard when i said i wanted to write this, that i finished it for her 9k celebration

"Is this what we do then? Just two strangers who buy each other drinks?" Dipping his chin, he half-laughs, trying to see the scribbled name on your cup. "Well, we don't have to be strangers." "Oh, nice. Very smooth." "Too much?" Shaking your head, you turn the cup—allowing him to see your name. "No, I liked it." "Yeah?" Nodding, you begin grinning, before hiding it with a sip of your drink.

Marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

It was accidental. A chance encounter. An event that had wholly thrown him off his game as he stood in line at the coffee shop, soul prickly, from the day he was having.

On some level—the practical part of him, the one that deals in facts and statistics—he suspected it was why it was then you’d stepped into his world. Not even hovering in his peripheral, but front and centre in front of him in the queue. Your phone nervously tapping in your palm—eyes looking over your shoulder, not at him, but not through him.

You’d bought him his drink first. A pay it forward thing—or so he was told when he’d finally chosen his drink.

A gesture that stuck with him remained embedded somewhere in his head, rotting away.

Marcus never expected to see you again. The chances were slim, the odds so low it wasn’t worth thinking—but then he did. Same time, same place.

You were in front of him again as he pulled open the heavy glass door and was confronted with the back of you he’d been trying not to think about in his downtime. This time, your attire was different, more casual—less ‘on the way to work’ and more out doing errands. But, unlike before, you kept your head down, barely even a sound over a whisper when you ordered your drink.

It etched a place in him that stuck around until the next time.

By then, he’d wrongly assumed that your timings matched his. But, when he walked into the coffee shop, his stomach fell to his feet—disappointment blooming where his organ once was because you weren’t there.

Typically ahead of him, arriving a few minutes before.

Marcus trying to swallow back how frustrated he felt that he’d made progress, felt good, almost ready to even say a hello to you and then… you weren’t even here. His feet dragging, plastering on a smile as he walked up to the barista, shoulders sinking, until he heard the door open.

Somehow, before he even looked, he knew it was you.

Your voice cut in over the distorted music, covering the cheap speaker and the grinding of beans as you said goodbye to whoever you spoke to on the phone. And he knew he had one chance—one.

So, Marcus bought you a coffee.

Quickly coming up with an excuse, a reason—if it went wrong, he’d say he was simply paying the kindness back.

But you hadn’t asked him why. Instead, your reply was as bold as he wished he was.

It’s how he found himself across from you in the coffee shop, spending the remainder of that drink learning all he could—half-tempted to buy another so the two of you didn’t have to part.

Instead, he asked for the same time next week. Your smile stuck with him for the next six days and twenty-three hours until he could see you again.

And it was better than the first.

“You going to ask me out, Marcus?”

Sipping his coffee, he licked his lips. “Thought I already did.”

Shrugging, you leaned closer. “Guess I’ll do it then. You fancy getting dinner with me?”

That’s how he found himself at a red tablecloth with a flickering candle. You sitting in a similar position as you had been in the coffee shop when you’d handed him your name on your cup, and he’d given you his with a shake of his hand—all careful, wrapped in softness, a sweet bow on the top perfectly positioned by a smile.

It going well—too well.

A part of him screaming to slow down, already feeling, already wanting—

“I need to tell you…”

Leaning over the table, you smile. “I knew it. You had to have a flaw—you don’t actually like coffee, do you?”

It happens slowly, and flows in stages: First, a smile, one which grows into a grin. Then, he laughs. Before finally, his body leans closer, fingers ghosting over, almost touching yours.

The part of him still wounded, sore, the only thing stopping him from taking your hand in his.

“No. I—I, um, have quite an unhealthy addition to that.”

Smirking, you glide your tongue across your lips, sliding your hand to your glass, eyes holding his—waiting, giving him the floor.

“I just wanted to tell you that I really like getting to know you.” Your face flickers, ever so slightly. Perfectly in time with the dancing candle, almost could be blamed on the trick of the light—but he isn’t anyone. He’s trained, all able to read people. “But, I… my last relationship didn’t end so well. And while I’m over it—over her—I... I don’t want to rush this.”

Your smile sweetens, lips rolling as you sigh, ever so softly. “I like getting to know you too, Marcus,” you reply, fingers sliding across the base of your glass—a smile, hanging so kindly on your face. “We can just… see what happens. Take it easy, like we have been.”

Beaming, he licks his lips. Slowly grinning—letting the words “see what happens” around on his tongue before he laughs. A gentle one, his hand running along his beard.

“Yeah. That’ll be… nice.”

Casual, you follow up with as his knee abuts yours under the table, watching as your chin rests on one of your hands, as the other scoops up your glass, smirking against it as you take a sip.

He felt it then, the sparkle—the crackle in the air.

His eyes could not tear themselves away from you—just like he hadn’t in the coffee shop. He was enamoured, fully taken in. Marcus hung off each word and studied each expression on your face.

He blames that for the reason he finds himself pushing your back against your front door, the keys jingling in your hand, the evening very much far from over. His mouth on yours, searing, almost bruisingly kissing you.

It isn’t until your breath is ghosting over his, lips ever so close, his body flush with yours, that you speak, your eyes flicking from his to his lips and back again. “I thought you wanted to—”

“I’m seeing what happens…”

Your lips curl. “You sure you want to do that, Agent Pike?”

He has to swallow a moan. The way you let his name fall from your lips so velvety, makes his trousers even tighter. The hand on your waist tightens, clutching you more so, before his mouth spells all the words he wants to say against yours—kissing away any doubt that he doesn’t want this, you.

“Open the door,” he says, kissing it to your lips. “Please.”

Thank fuck you do.

Guiding you in, walking you backwards. Hand sliding up to your cheek, wrist resting against your jaw as he traces his tongue over your bottom lip, easing you against a wall, hearing your door click shut—

“I just… I just need a minute,” you whisper. A hand on his chest, not pushing, but just there—fingers stroking his shirt, nodding. “Just one minute.”

Nodding, he gives you another kiss. Stepping back, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen from his forehead as you held up a finger, another sign of promise, just a minute, and he smiles, doing as you instruct when you tell him to get comfortable.

Your place is nice—cosy.

The windows are all tall and long, the sheer curtains barely able to put up much of a fight against the city’s lights. He suspects you chose it for the light. Something about you screams light and airy, easy and inviting—a thing which is embedded into everything you do. From the initial greeting to now.

The only light casting over your place is the one from the city—it illuminates your table, the one in the centre of the space, glass, pretty fabric chairs around it. No marks, not a single fingerprint. His mind quickly imagines you eating at it most mornings. The flirty text messages the two of you have been exchanging between the coffee date and tonight, all beginning here, until he joins you on your commute to work.

A thought, all dangerous and unwilling to go, pops up. There’s no pin able to burst it, not as it grows—it expanding, filling the expanse of his head and ridding him of all other thoughts—

“Nice table,” he announces, following the sound of you joining him.

Not needing sight to know where you are, already in tune with you—even if he’s told himself to slow down. To not fall as quickly, take his time—breathe.

“Oh, yeah? I-It’s new.”

His throat tightens, the thought pushing further against his skull—knowing if there were even a flicker from a candle, you’d be able to see how lustful his eyes were.

“How new?”

His question burns in the air. Sizzling. The air thickens. The only sound coming from a neighbour above walking around in what sounded like heels. But, all he’s focused on is that you’re beside him—shoulder against his arm, eyes forward, staring out at the view. As though you don’t get to marvel at it each day, as though you haven’t had your fill of it.

Not that he can blame you. He’s had plenty of chances to take you in—taking all he can get—and he still doesn’t feel he’s committed you all to memory.

“Barely eaten at it myself, never mind anyone else—if that answers your question.”

It does.

“We should change that.”

“Why? You hungry?” you ask, meeting his eyes—and he wonders if you can feel it then.

Wonders if you’ve caught on and can hear it rolling around his mind, banging around, nothing able to stop it.

Smirking, you must suddenly arrive at his way of thinking. Your body turns towards him, arm looping around his waist, as his hand cups your cheek.

“S’not too late to tell me to leave,” he whispers.

Your lips curl, but only smooth out into a smile. “I don’t want you anywhere else, Marcus.”

He’s quick, intent—crashing his mouth to yours so you know he feels the same. His other hand sliding around your waist, a groan emitting from your throat, travelling up and kissing his tongue.

And he can’t quiet the voice, the bubble that bounces from one side of his skull to the other. It’s why it escapes through a kiss, muffled, but not enough not to be discernible:

Get on the table, baby.

It’s branded into the air, burnt there. Hanging as your lips halt in their movements against his. Hand hovering, poised, eyes lashes opening to coat him in momentary confusion.

His lips slide into a smirk, your eyes flicking to it, before lifting back up. “Nice glass table like this,” he continues, voice low, husky, “Someone should eat at it.”

Watching as you swallow, your fingers brush against his cheek, against the beard on his cheek. “That so?”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to you. ”Yes,” he groans, nose butting yours. Briefly catching you shudder, “Think you can let me taste you on your nice table?”

Marcus takes the moan as a yes—takes the way you try to position yourself, as another.

His fingers move to your trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping with ease until they’re gliding down your legs, unveiling them inch by inch to him—lit up in the glow from the world outside. Sliding the fabric from your skin with ease, before he helps you, guiding you, positioning you like he would if he were making a table arrangement.

Your legs close, eyes looking at him through your lashes.

Cupping your cheeks with his palms, he pulls your eyes to his. “You okay?”

Nodding, rolling your lips. “Yeah… just like you, is all.”

Fuck, you’re pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. More so when he aids you in removing your other clothes, leaving only the fabric between your thighs while he stares at you. Takes you in because—

You’re a wonder. A sight for sore eyes and an image that should be studied in a gallery. He’d thieve you, would abandon all of his morals and prize you from a wall, let your captured eyes solder holes into him forever.

But he doesn’t need to.

You’re already doing so without him having to do much. They leave a mark, scratching against him.

“I like you too. S’ why I wanna make you feel good, baby. Okay?”

A hand drops, sliding over the fabric between your legs. Feeling it, how much you want this. Him. Tonight. He even hears it as you whimper before he teases your underwear down your legs—the little wet patch quickly caught by his gaze, before he throws them in a similar vein to your other clothes.

“Wanna taste you, baby. Want you to come against my tongue. Will you? Can I?”

His hand continues to clutch your cheek, thumbs swiping a line back and forth as his words register and your breath hitches. But your thighs part, all for him. One hand drops to your leg, fingers drawing shapes, teasing, climbing higher and higher until his other hand mirrors his on your other leg, basking in the way you stare at him, holding onto his sight with every teasing touch.

Not begging. Not asking.

Waiting, ever so patiently.

Perfect. Oh, so fucking perfect.

Sliding around the back of your thighs, his fingers dig, pressing little half-moons into the underside of you, as he parts your legs further—eyes dropping, marvelling, ever thankful for the glow so he can see the way you glisten, the way you need and want him, it all evidenced, able to be captured.

“So wet for me already.”

“Marcus,” you moan.

His name elongated, special. It hits the air—and his ears—in a way that licks heat up his spine. The flames smother his bones when he spreads you with a finger, it circling, coating up to the knuckle in your desire.

Then, he dives.

All tongue flat to your core as the sound of ‘oh fuck’ punches the air. A sound he wants to collect, and earn—licking a stripe before he spells letters against your bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking the tip as your nails grasp his hair.

You make sounds that make him feel holy, that could bring him to his goddamn knees. He wants to pull them all from you, more so when his name begins to join them—when you’re panting, pleading, please, Marcus, fuck right there, Marcus.

He grins against you, tasting and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves that has your hips arching into his face. But Marcus continues, placing a hand on your stomach, pinning you down, giving and giving—

Then he pauses. Purposefully stops, just blowing a cool breath to earn a whimper.

Your eyes steam him. Narrowed, eyebrows dropped to shape them. Your breath ragged, body thrumming, vibrating with how close you were.

Shooting you another grin, he plunges his tongue inside you—relishing how your walls tighten around him. Enjoying the way you taste, the way your fingers have found a home in his hair, tugging and pulling, nails all against his scalp.

The air is smeared in gasps, moans. A chorus of his name. All of it falling into the air around him and you, becoming a song, all instrumental, rising to a crest, ready to crash.

Fuck, he wants nothing more. Marcus wants to be travelling home and still be able to taste how sweet you are, to hear the noises you make because they’re sliced somewhere in his brain.

“You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna make sure I can taste you when I’m in bed alone tonight.”

You whimper.

His tongue continues to lap, to take everything you’ll give him as he slides two fingers in. Your walls tightening, gripping him—all vice-like and needy. And Marcus is pleading, if only internally, for you to scorch him, singe and sear yourself into him.

“S-so close, M-Marcus—”

He knows. “I know. Let go for me. Be good for me.”

And you do.

You really fucking do.

He feels you tighten, and tense, before his tongue is flooded, your legs shake, and your toes curl. His movements continue, brutally guiding you over the edge, pushing and pushing until he feels you loosen your hold on his hair—trying to wiggle from his mouth.

Marcus isn’t sure he’s ever felt so good.

Positioning himself so he’s stood at full height, staring down at you, trying to capture your breath—lit up by the star-filled sky and sparkling city. You’re beautiful, he thinks for the billionth time tonight.

“You’re everything,” he whispers, watching your eyes open, landing on him, taking him in.

Your lips spread into a lust-filled smile, tinged with exhaustion, but there’s a spark there, too. Something having been awoken, ready, riling itself up.

He suspects he won’t be going home tonight, not that he really wanted to.

"Not to rush you, but we'll be late for the movie." Your lips press to his cheek when he steps into your space, apology stitched there—usually so punctual, on time. "I just need to grab a jacket if that's okay?" He grins, bites the inside of his cheek as he nods, hearing you dart off—taking the few short steps further into your place, spotting the table, walking to it. Immediately, memories knock into him. Loitering, pacing. Until his eyes land on the fingerprints, his thumb ghosting over it—finding it the perfect match. All knowing, and realising. It makes his throat dry as heat licks up his spine as you emerge, fiddling with your jacket. "You're... um, not cleaned your table." "I've cleaned up where you... you know, but not your handprints. No." He huffs out a laugh, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb. "Why's that?" You smirk, bashfully, trying to disguise it by biting the inside of your cheek. "Guess I like the memory of you being here." "And, what I did to you." "Very astute, Agent Pike. You wanna head out or do you wanna see if my pillow still smells like your hair product?" He slaps you on the ass for that.

AN: first time writing marcus. this was supposed to be 1k, the original was 6k. but i felt happier with this 🙈 pls be nice.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader smut #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal characters x reader #pedrostories #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus pike smut

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 4 months

Text

pussydrunk!Yuuji knew you had somethin special between your legs, even before you gave him a sample: He flirts with you endlessly, showing his interest in you any time he gets a chance. 'Fuck, y/n, have mercy...' Yuuji thinks when he finds you on your lavender loveseat beautiful brown legs spread, intently reading the magazine you're holdin up to your nose. The shape of your pussy in your tiny panties makes his mouth water; his dick rising so fast he gets a bit dizzy. "Hey, I'm so fuckin tired. Hope your day was better than mine, pretty baby.. Was it?" Yuuji asks sweetly. Your nose still pinches at the pet name "'S fine, I guess. Whooped the fuck outta Panda today." You answer without takin your eyes from the gossip you're currently consuming. "Scuse me, I was talkin to her. How rude!" You look down to see him starin between your thighs, leanin to plant wet kisses against your clothed clit lovingly. "So fuckin nasty.." You whisper, spreading to make room as Yuuji removes your underwear.

pussydrunk!Yuuji died and went to heaven the first time you let him hit: He's naked on top of you, eyes shut tight huffin hard as fuck in your face. "Ooh shit, girl! Tight as hell.. Ahhhh fuh- hold up.. Gonna cum, y/n. Pussy's too wet round my shit. Stay still for a second." Oh hell naw! Can't believe your ears right now. You didn't get all dolled up for nothing. Makeup perfectly matching your glittery sapphire one piece lingerie. "Yuuji, you just slid in.. Aint even start strokin yet." Tone heavy with annoyance, but he can barely hear you. Blood rushin in his ears; black dots his vision. Then Yuuji's filling you up half a second later; lickin and suckin on your neck as he presses in deep as he can. "Fuckfuckfuck! Please don't hate me, y/nnn.. Ah shit! Can't stooop.." He's crushing you under his weight, poor baby so incoherent. Doesn't even realize how he pathetically chants 'pussy's too good' as you land a smack on the back of his head.

pussydrunk!Yuuji feels like the world's ending when you don't let him fuck for a while after the first time: You're sitting with your back against your pillows in bed scrolling through the gram when he bursts in the room, briefly attempting to pry your knees apart. "Baby, come oooon. Need it so bad. Why are you torturing me like this?" Yuuji's been such a whiny brat about it. You want it too but he needs a fuckin lesson. "Boy.. First off, not ya baby. We ain't datin. Two, you came too fast, and waaay too fuckin much. Do you even know how much nut you spilled in my shit by the time you finished?" You fix him with a steely glare for good measure but his goofy ass only hits you with a perplexed "Ummm. A lot?" You scoff, rolling your eyes before looking back to your phone. "Baaaaaaby!" "Not cha baby.."

pussydrunk!Yuuji that starts bargaining after a few weeks, ready to gamble with his life if that means fuckin you asap: "Playin with my emotions, y/n. Just tell me what I need to do already. Do anything, name it. Just tell me what you want and it yours." He's got you pinned to a wall at the school, hands on either side of your head, dick tenting in his uniform. "No, Yuuji. Don't think you learned your lesson yet." "I did, baby! I'm sorry. So so sorry for filling your pretty lil pussy up without permission." You look into his shiny eyes, feeling a bit guilty at your teasing. His handsome features looking so devastated as he hangs his head, stuffing his face into your throat. Fuck, his submission has you so damn wet; panties sticking to your plump pussy lips. How much longer can you keep this up? "Hmmm.. Come over tonight?" Yuuji's like a kid in a candy store, head poppin up as he grins at you widely. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, baby." His kisses smother you as he whispers his appreciation against you lips. You laugh, pushing him back to retain your tough act. Even though all you want is to be impaled on his cock again. "Whatever, Itadori. Just dont be late. Oh and one more thing: Not your baby." Your tell him in a sing song voice, walking away with a little extra sway in your hips. "We'll see bout that.." Yuuji says to himself, squeezing his dick as he stares at the jiggle of your backside.

pussydrunk!Yuuji who refused to take any chances now that he's finally got another shot. He makes sure to jerk off before he comes over, hoping to God that helps with feeling of your compact pussy. When he gets there, he starts off with your pleasure; has you cum on his hand and tongue first. Yuuji quickly finds out nuttin before was a good idea. Especially from how his dick keeps jolting at the feel of you round his fingers, the delicious fuckin taste of you drippin down into his mouth. You're beggin for a break by the time Yuuji puts you on your side. "Pleeease baby, c-can't yet. Need a few mintues." Voice low, already a bit hoarse from screaming his name for the past half hour. "Aw.. I'm ya baby now? That right?" He coos, chuckling at how you nod but try scootin up to escape him swipin his dick up and down you drenched slit. He pulls you back by your hips, his fingers itchin to grip your y/h/c locks and hold you in place. "Naw, where you goin? Said I could finally get in this cute lil pussy tonight." "Can, just need to catch my- YUUJI!" Your not sure if you ever hollered so fuckin loud in your life, your soul descending straight to the depths of hell when he skewers you on his thick dick. "Hold up, baby. Pleeease! Dont gotta stop. Just n-need a quick break." "Mm mm, y/n. Can't do that." One arm slidin underneath you to wrap around and hold your tummy; the other under your knee to lift up your leg. Yuuji's thrusts are slow and shallow, just testing the waters of your perfect cunt, hoping to keep some kinda composure. "Oh. My. GOD. Got my dick trapped, baby. Lemme go so I can fuck you." Pulls your trembling frame closer against his body, kissing your shoulder, sliding in so much fuckin deeper. "Wait, Yuuji, wait!" You never receive any reprieve though. He only kisses your shoulder a second time, grippin at your tummy fat as he speeds up. "Wish I could. Mmmfuck.. Waited too long already." Eyes rollin back when he smashes his pelvis against your juicy ass over and over. "Cant think, cant eat or fuckin sleep without this pussy, y/n/n." Yuuji lifts your leg higher, opening you wider as his dick jams in to the base. Your pussy's drooling all over his balls, tits bouncing wildly and its getting really fuckin hard to take. "Y/nnn! Holy fuckin shit- gonna be mad at me when I creampie you again? Dont be, princess. Know I can't help myself." You're unable to do little more than wordlessly keen in response, poor cunt rapidly fluttering as his curved girth jams your g spot. Shit, no one's ever fucked you so thoroughly. You've never felt like this; can't even take a breath as he nails the tender spot with too much accuracy. "Yuujiiiiii!" You're squealing and squirting all over his cock, makin a mess of him without permission- just like he did a few weeks ago. Except, Yuuji fuckin loves it, is instantly obsessed with the sight and sensation. His eyes cross, saliva running down his chin as his body spasms and he nuts in you with everything he's got. "Oh fuck, y/n. This pussy mine! Baby, say it. Say it's mine, tell me you belong to me." It's the first time he's given you any typa command but you submit like you've been doin it all your life. "Yooours, Yuji. Forever yours!"

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spacequokka · 4 months

Text

Day 24 | Mistletoe

Pairing: Jisung x Reader Genre: f2l, fluff Rating: T Summary: Felix lays a trap for you two with a mistletoe. Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Language, alcohol mentioned

Sometimes you have to be an emotional support human for your resident quokka. The same one sitting in your passenger seat biting his nails as he no doubt counted the cars surrounding Felix’s apartment building.

“Want some water?” You tapped his shoulder with a water bottle. “Bet it tastes better than your fingers.”

For the first time since you pulled up, he looked at you. “Doesn’t it seem like a whole lot more than ‘just a few?’” He turned back to the window. “What if it’s, like, standing room only? I haven’t been to a packed house party since uni and—”

You turned his face towards you and pinched his pretty lips shut. “It’s entirely possible Lixie’s neighbors threw a party too. And it’s a big building.” You let him go and turned the car off. “But if for some reason it’s packed in there, we can either hang out in his bedroom or I can take you home and we can watch a movie or something.” You patted his hand. “No worries, okay? He’ll understand.”

He grimaced. “But then you’ll miss the party!” He glanced at your outfit, a rendition of Santa’s little helper. “You were so proud of it.”

“Yeah, but it's just a Christmas costume.” You shrugged. “I mean, I got to wear it and it’ll be seen regardless. It’s not like I’m in a fashion show.” You shook you head. “Besides that, I won’t ditch you. You’re stuck with me tonight. Unless you finally get laid. Then you’re on your own, bud.”

That did the trick. Jisung’s head fell back against the headrest as he cackled, swiping at you playfully. “You’d abandon me when I needed you most?”

You made a face. “I do not need to guide you through dicking someone down. I know you have a general idea of what to do.” You opened your car door. “I saw that Amazon order of hentai.”

He choked on his spit and scrambled to get out. “You said you didn’t see what was inside!” He pointed. “You lied?”

“I see you’re not denying what it was.” It took everything in you not to cackle as his ears and cheeks flushed red. Together you made your way up two flights of stairs to Felix's door. As you entered the apartment, the sound of laughter and music filled the air, confirming Jisung's fears that it was indeed a packed house. Whoops. His hand wrapped around yours with a tight grip as he looked around for a familiar face. Just as you were about to say something, a loud voice called out your name.

"You made it!" Felix scurried over and pulled you both into a hug. "I was beginning to think you'd cancel on me."

"Oh, please." You pinched his side. "I said I was coming and I keep my word. However," you gave a pointed look around the room, "we didn't expect it to be this crowded."

At least he had the grace to duck his head. "My bad. I sent the invite to Changbin and he invited everyone he could think of. But!" He brightened up again. "Me and Jin made sure to reserve a room for you to chill in. There's a cooler with drinks, wings and pizza, and the PS5 is all set up with charged controllers."

Jisung pulled Felix into another hug, peppering his cheek with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Felix groaned, feigning disgust as he pulled away until something above your heads caught his attention. "Oh, well I guess it's okay since we're standing under the mistletoe." His expression turned devious as he looked at you. "You should get a kiss, too."

Jisung froze, stock still and unblinking. "Huh?"

You looked up. Yup, that was a mistletoe, alright. You had no doubt Felix was the one to put it there as Hyunjin wouldn't want people crowding the doorway. You looked at Felix, unamused. "You are so fucking corny."

"That is your personal opinion and quite frankly it's shit." He turned back to Jisung. "Come on, kiss her." He nudged Jisung closer. It wasn't until then that you caught the fear in his wide, brown eyes. He hadn't said a word and he had a death grip on your hand. But you couldn't figure out why. He'd just kissed Felix with no problem. Was it because of you? You knew your friendship wasn't on the same level as his with Felix or Hyunjin, but you thought it was at least somewhere near a playful kiss under a mistletoe.

Jisung shifted and avoided your gaze. You weren't going to make him kiss you if he didn't want to. You turned to tell Felix as much but the brat began chanting "kiss" triggering the party-goers to follow suit. “Lixie, you ass.”

It was too late. The chant grew louder and you noticed Jisung’s palm started to sweat. You knew the easiest way out would be leaving the party, but you didn’t want to do that. Part of you was a little jealous that Jisung would hesitate to kiss you. He’d kissed girls before, even fucked them. Before really thinking it through, you grabbed him by the chin and planted a three second kiss on his plush lips. The crowd erupted into cheers and went back to their conversations. Felix, the little bridge troll that he is, skillfully dodged your kick to his ass as he led you two to his room.

“You can be an asshole sometimes.” You mumbled once you were away from other ears.

Felix shrugged, eyes darting over to Jisung before a grin spread across his lips. “Just sometimes, huh?” He winked at Jisung prompting you to turn to him too. Jisung’s cheeks were flushed again and he pressed his fingertips to his lips. You’d watched enough anime with him to know that look and it confused you. Just a few minutes ago you were thinking he’d hate you for kissing him and now he—“Well, I’m gonna go check on the others. Don’t want anyone shitting in the dishwasher.”

And he was gone.

“Who the hell does that?” You asked yourself as you shrugged off your jacket and tossed it into a chair in the corner. You brushed off your skirt before kneeling on the floor and going through the cooler. “What do you want to drink, Sungie? He put both alcoholic and non-alcoholic in here.”

Silence. You bit your lip. If he wasn’t going to say anything about it, neither would you. It happened. Let it go.

“Fine. Here, take a Lime-a-Rita.” You held up the large can.

“Ew. You know I hate those.” He inched closer to look for himself. “Just gimme a Sprite.”

You mocked him under your breath and passed him a can. “So what are we playing first?” And just like that, things went back to normal. You went from game to game, plowing through the food and drinks. Nearly three hours later, he called for a break so you could use the bathroom and when you got back, you heard Felix’s voice through the door.

“Just ask her. She’s not gonna say no.”

“I don’t think she wanted to do it the first time. You put us on the spot.”

“Yeah because you were supposed to make your move.” Felix sighed. “How can things change if you don’t let her know how you feel? As much as you like to pretend, she actually can’t read your mind.”

There was a sigh and the door opened. Felix jumped back. “Oh! Can you not?” He put a hand over his chest. “Between the two of you, I’m gonna fucking die.”

You pushed him out the way. “It isn’t like you don’t deserve it.”

Felix snorted. “Oh, like I haven’t heard that before.” He disappeared down the hall.

You sat next to Jisung on the bed and took a chip from his bag. He licked his lips and swallowed. “So, how much did—”

“What is it you’re supposed to ask me?” You looked at him. “Is it about the kiss?”

His eyes widened for a second and he nodded, eyebrows scrunched together. “Did…did you want to kiss me or did you just do it to get it over with?”

You tilted your head and took another chip. “Both. I could tell you were uncomfortable. I’m sorry for kissing you without asking permission first, though. Thought it was weird you were okay with kissing Lixie but not me.”

He startled like you’d physically shocked him. “No it was different! I always kiss people on the cheek.” He touched his cheeks. “But usually mistletoe kisses are on the lips. And I’ve never—we’ve never, not like that.”

You sipped your soda. “So that’s why you froze up? Because it was something new?” You nodded. That made sense. If he wasn’t sure how you’d react and he’d never done it before, of course he’d overanalyze the situation. “I thought you just didn’t want to kiss me. I considered just leaving the party for a minute.”

He shook his head. “I’d never mind kissing you.” He lowered his voice and touched his lips again. “It was…nice.” His eyes darted over to you. “I—I keep thinking about it. It was kinda short.”

You nearly choked mid-sip. “What do you mean ‘short?’ I thought three seconds were long enough for a peck.”

“Everything happened so fast. Once second you were arguing with Lix then your lips were on mine then you were gone. I just, I really didn’t get to experience it since I was in my head.” He put the bag of chips to the side. “I want to remember the first time I kissed you like that, y’know?”

His words made your chest tingle as butterflies took flight. “I mean, I kissed you but I get what you’re saying.”

His gaze didn’t leave your face as you both sat there in silence. His hand found yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, so…what I wanted to ask was if you’d let me try again? Lemme give you something to remember.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Unless you weren’t into it before, then we totally don’t have to—”

“Ugh, Ji. Come on!”

He startled but thankfully leaned close and brought his lips to yours. His hands rested on your shoulders, holding you in place as if he believed you’d pull away too soon. The kiss was slow and gentle, allowing you to savor every moment of it. Your heart raced as Jisung's lips met yours again and again, a soft and tender connection that sent sparks of warmth through your body. When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless and wearing matching smiles.

“Better?”

His eyes lit up as he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. “Impossible to forget. Merry Christmas.”

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ovlxo · 4 months

Text

Affair - Modern Duff McKagan x Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, SMUT

Disclaimer: I love Duff and Susan, this is 100% a work of fiction, fantasies are fantasies right?

POV: Your Axl Rose’s daughter, 21 year old, Y/N Rose. You’ve just got back to the hotel after a gig where Duff spent his breaks and subtle turns making eyes at you, it was something that had been brewing for a while between you both but Duffs’ wife, Susan had always been there and so neither of you had had the chance to act on this sexual tension…

“Okay, room keys; we’re all on the eighth floor, rooms are all double suites, hot-tubs in two of ‘em, fight amongst yourselves.” Your dad spoke with authority as he threw the keys on the table.

“Dibs on the hot-tub, night guys.” Slash grabbed one of the gold-tipped keys and swooped Meegan up toward the elevators with a ‘whoop!’.

“Yeah, my legs are killin’ me from my ride this morning. Am I good to take the other one?” Duff made eyes with everybody, lingering a second too long on you.

“That’s cool, Y/N, pick a key, doll. I’ll see you down here for breakfast in the morning?” Your dad smiled at you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and kissing your hair.

“Yeah, Dad, okay, night.” You blushed at the embarrassment of your dad showing any affection in front of the whole band and picked up a key.

“Night guys, great gig tonight!.” He spoke with a genuine smile toward the group and headed upstairs.

The rest of the band trickled upstairs slowly, Duff was over by the payphone, jamming at the small metal buttons. Realising you weren’t ready to call it a night you headed over to the bar, eyes on Duff who spotted you out of the corner of his eye and watched you walk away.

“Can I have a Cosmopolitan, please?” Smiling up at the bartender as you swivelled in your seat taking in all of the names on the bottles lined up.

“Hope you’ve got some ID, little lady.” Duff’s voice melted through your body as he spun you around to face him.

“Hey, what did that pay-phone do to deserve such a beating?” You giggled, kicking his leg with your heeled boot playfully.

“Nothin’ works in hotels, man! Just means I’ll get it in the neck when I’m back home for not checking in.” Duff’s hand went to the back of his neck, as his eyes shot up and down your body, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Oh there’s no way I could deal with that, have a drink, talk to me…” You smiled, gently biting your lip as you looked down toward the top button of his pants.

“Okay, just one and then we’ll go to bed.” He winked and sat down on the stool next to you, ordering a whisky on the rocks.

“Promises, promises. I do like the sound of that hot-tub.” You shot back quickly, sipping on your cosmo, and feeling a wave of pleasure rush up your spine.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have one ear-marked, Daddy’s little princess.” He laughed, finding an excuse to bump your knees together and gently touch your arm.

“Fuck you! Would Daddy’s little princess be sipping drinks at the hotel bar and trying to bone his bassist?” Your stomach sank as you realised what you’d said, the cosmo helped you speak the whole truth apparently.

“I guess it’s expected when all that bassist has done for the last month is imagine her underneath him.” Duff’s hand ran from your knee to your inner-thigh, eyes not leaving your lips as you bit down in response to his gentle fingers.

“What would you say to making both of our little fantasies come true?” You placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing and making your way towards the growing bulge in his pants.

“I’d say, how about we finish these drinks in my hot-tub?” His finger brushed right up against your now sodden lace panties.

“Lead the way, McKagan.” You held out your hand and grabbed your cocktail, almost watching the scene out of body in disbelief.

Duff led you to the elevators, both of you vigilant for any late-coming roadies. The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive as you both felt the niggle to rip each other's clothes off right there.

Finally, you arrived at Duff’s suite which was nestled right in a corner away from any other doors and potential prying ears. As soon as the key turned the lock green, Duff grabbed hold of you and threw you over his shoulder, you let out a quiet shriek as the door closed and Duff carried you to the inner-balcony doors. Thankfully, the hot-tub was already bubbling away, you slid down Duff’s body and wrapped your legs around his waist, instantly consumed by his lips, your tongues entwined with each other, tasting the bitter whisky on his tongue only served to arouse you even more.

He practically ripped the silk dress from you, happily greeted by your red-lace lingerie.

“I love this…” he moaned in your ear as he greedily grabbed at your breasts, pushing his now rock-hard member up against your inner thigh.

Your hands gripped his hair as he sucked on your nipples, carrying you over to the tub, he gently placed you in the water, pulling your bra off as the bubbles caressed every inch of you. He quickly stripped, caressing himself as he slid under the jets with you. His hands were instantly on your body, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him, squeezing your cheeks and exploring your mouth once more with his own.

“Give it to me, Duffy.” You whispered, biting down his neck, to his tattooed shoulder.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.” Duff pulled you into his lap as he sat on one of the perches, you quickly lost your panties as he replicated your actions and started nipping your neck.

Slowly sliding down on his generous length, your nails dug into his shoulders. Both of you moaning in sync at the sensation.

“Fuck yeah…” he whispered, squeezing your hips and leaving a dark purple bruise on your collarbone before throwing his head back.

You bounced gently on his lap, feeling his balls slap against your ass as he met your thrusts.

“Oh God… Duff… harder.” You gasped, taking him as deep as you could, the pain melting into pleasure as you bit down on his lower lip.

“You like it rough, darlin’?” He smiled, pulling you down and increasing his thrusts to a bruising pace.

“Holy… Fuck… Yes! Duff!” You cried, pulling him closer and feeling your release bubbling over. Water splashing around as Duff took full control and bounced you harder against him.

“Shit… I’m gonna cum… Ohhh… Y/N” Duff’s hand digging right into your hips, as he spilled inside, his hot seed filling you to the brim as you lost complete control, mumbling his name as your vision became spotty, his thrusts never ceasing as he rode you through your high. Fireworks burst in your head, you felt your whole body tighten around Duff, his warmth only relighting the fire inside you.

Your head fell down against his shoulder as his rested on yours. His cock still firmly inside you as you both came down from your high.

“You’re somethin’ else, baby.” Duff smiled against your skin, stroking your thighs as sweat dripped down from his hair.

“Now how about we finish those drinks?” You giggled against him, feeling his body completely relax into yours.

#duff mckagan #duff mckagan x reader #gnr smut #guns n roses smut #duff mckagan smut #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan imagines #guns n roses #duff mckagan rough #gnrsmut #smut

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feelingsdumpcaptain · 13 days

Text

her heart isn't gone

A/N: this is literally just a bunch of drabbles put into one post :') and yes, maybe i was listening to his car isn't yours on repeat as i worked on this. i haven't written in awhile so i'm a little rusty but i can't keep editing this so sorry for any inconsistencies.

Words: 8.6k (haha whoops!)

Emily briskly makes her way toward the cafe near the hotel, hoping to get a chance at a pastry. She could feel the sun warming her back and she regrets the blazer thrown over her longsleeve. It was peak summer and the team arrived in Carmel late last night so the heat hadn’t set in yet. Now that she feels the heat early this morning, she wonders how much warmer it can get.

She tugs on the cafe door, the smell of freshly baked goods surrounding her. Her mouth waters and her stomach rumbles as she considers the different options.

Lemon blueberry muffin, almond croissant, cheese strudel, banana bread…

She decides on the lemon blueberry muffin but just as she’s about to ask for it, she watches as they take the last one and place it into a bag. Her eyes follow, seeing them hand it over to a woman at the register and sighs.

Emily makes her way to the front and glances at the coffee menu. “Hi, one salted cream vanilla latte and an almond croissant, please.”

Once she pays, she steps off to the side and pulls out her phone to check for any messages.

JJ (5:53 AM): Is anyone up for a run? Morgan (6:03 AM): Sorry, some of us have already finished our workout ;) Garcia (8:48 AM): Do you people ever sleep???

Emily huffs a small laugh. She goes to reply but hears her name called for her order and puts her phone away. She grabs her drink and croissant and goes to throw a ‘thanks!’ over her shoulder as she heads out. As excited as she is about her drink, it’s short-lived when she feels herself bump into someone else. She only loses her breath from the impact but the coffee in her hand falls from her grip and spills.

She glances down and her eyes meet yours, the one who took the last lemon blueberry muffin. Emily can admit she finds you pretty, even with the dazed look on your face as you look up at Emily. She can feel the heat rush to her face when she realizes she’s just been staring and offers her hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” Emily asks, giving a gentle tug. Her eyes scan your clothes. “Did the coffee spill on you?”

You shake your head, cheeks going pink. “I’m okay, thank you. No coffee stains either.”

Emily’s chest flutters at the flush on your cheeks, keeping her smile small. “As long as you’re not hurt.”

You wave your hand. “Really, I’m okay. Just embarrassed. Here.” You hold out the white paper bag, and Emily realizes it’s the muffin she wanted.

“Oh, no. I can’t.”

“I insist! Please. You spilled your coffee. Or I could buy you another?”

Emily glances at her watch and winces. “I don’t think I have enough time to wait for another one. It’s okay.”

You push the bag into Emily’s free hand. “Take it. It’s delicious. They’re known for these muffins here.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, then. I’m still really sorry about bumping into you. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“No worries. I could say the same for myself.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’m kinda known for being clumsy around town. Anyway, I better go before I embarrass myself even more. If you see me here again, let me know and I’ll buy you your coffee!” You give Emily a small wave and head out.

Emily leans back in her seat, glancing out of the cafe window. She arrived earlier than expected, and the cafe was still quiet. She was able to grab two of the lemon blueberry muffins right as they came out of the oven, two resting on the table. She could feel the chill in the air, but her iced latte probably didn’t help.

She hears the bell over the door ring, her eyes glancing over. Her eyes meet yours, a small smile on her lips.

“You’re here early.” You sit across from her and reach for one of the muffins.

“More like late night. I haven’t exactly slept yet, but I didn’t want to risk sleeping through the morning.”

You grin and bat your eyelashes. “Aw, you didn’t want to miss our morning munchies?”

Emily lets out a huff. “Please don’t call it that.”

“But that’s what we do.” You take a bite of the muffin, glancing at the iced coffee Emily held onto. “Is that your salted cream latte?”

Emily’s eyes narrow, pulling the drink a bit closer to her. “Maybe. Why?”

Your eyes go wide and your lips pull into a small pout. “Can I have a sip?”

“What? Why? You don’t even like the cream on top! You’ve tried this latte multiple times and each time, you say you don’t like it.”

“What if I change my mind this time?”

Emily laughs. “You won’t.”

“Are you following me?”

Emily rolls her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I live here so I should be asking you that question.” You bump your shoulder into Emily, a smile on your face. “Who told you about my secret getaway?”

Emily laughs. “Secret getaway? It’s the beach.”

“Yeah, but this spot in particular. It’s away from the main boardwalk and it’s hidden.”

Emily grins, leaning into you. “I have my ways.”

“Uh-huh. So you are stalking me.”

“Stalking? Please, you flatter yourself.”

You let out a small laugh, enjoying the warmth from Emily’s body. “I’m surprised you’re not working. How did you get a Saturday night off?”

“Told ‘em I had a hot date.”

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Emily rubs at the inside of her wrist, just below her watch. She tries to look at you but can’t bring herself to, focusing on the empty plate between them.

“What’s up?” You wipe at the table with a napkin, gathering the crumbs into a single spot.

“Well, we caught the guy last night so I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Oh.” You pause and look at Emily. “How soon?”

“Two hours?” Emily winces at the look on your face. “I’m sorry. We’re very… we move around, and fast.”

You can only nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying our… us. I just can’t stay.”

“No, I understand. I mean, I knew that from the start. I just wasn’t expecting you to leave so fast after you caught him. I thought you might get like, a day or two off.”

“As nice as that sounds, that rarely happens. You know what they say.”

“...What?”

Emily sits up straight and clears her throat, her voice lowering. “Crime never sleeps.”

You groan. “Ew, don’t ever say that again, please.”

“Hey, are you up for drinks tonight?”

Emily glances up from her computer screen, finding JJ leaning against her desk.

“Ah, not tonight. I’ve… got plans.” Emily hopes JJ doesn’t push but this is the third time she’s missed out on drinks with the team. “Next time?”

JJ’s eyes narrow, staring at Emily.

“Stop trying to profile me.”

“Only if you tell me why you haven’t been out with us for the past three Friday nights. The first time, fine, we get it. The second time, it’s a little suspicious. But the third time? You are not getting out of it without an explanation. I will tell Garcia on you.”

Emily huffs, leaning back into her chair. “I have plans.” She holds a finger up. “That I cannot cancel or reschedule.”

“Uh-huh. And does it, by any chance, have anything to do with a certain woman from a certain beach town we may have been in recently?” JJ’s smirking now, arms crossed. “And it wouldn’t be because she’s been visiting every weekend since then, would it?”

Emily only gapes at her. “How— who told you that? How do you even know about her?”

JJ shrugs. “I went on a run every morning there that no one ever showed up for. I ran through the whole town eventually and may have seen you at the same cafe around the same time with the same woman.”

“If you know, then why are you asking?”

“I didn’t but you just confirmed it for me.” JJ taps her desk with her knuckles before heading out. “Well, maybe next week you’ll bring her along. Goodnight, Emily!”

Emily only groans, dropping her head into her hands.

You step out onto the sidewalk, waving to the doorman. It was almost 8 and Emily was on her way. Your heart flutters in anticipation and you rock back and forth on your feet as you wait.

The sight of headlights coming down the street catches your attention, and you follow with your eyes as it approaches. You recognize the Jeep and get in, eyes meeting Emily’s.

“Hi,” you breathe out, hand brushing against the one resting the gear shift.

Emily gives you a small kiss on the edge of your lips, letting out a quiet hello before leaning back into her seat. “Ready?”

Your seatbelt clicks into place. “Uh-huh. Where are we going on this exhilarating Friday night?”

“Exhilarating? I was thinking of taking you to my place to crochet.”

“Emily.”

“What? You don’t want to spend quality time with me? Not to mention Sergio is just dying to meet you.” She pulls away from the curb, eyes focused.

“Oh, are you ready to introduce me to your family?” You tease, leaning close enough for her to feel your breath on her cheek. “Are we taking that next step so soon? You haven’t even taken me to bed yet.”

Emily’s hand immediately falls onto your thigh, her grip tight. “Don’t start.” She hesitates, before coming to a stop in a parking lot. “But… what do you think about it?”

You abruptly pull away from her, eyebrows raised. “What do I think about meeting your family? Emily, we haven’t even… it’s only been–”

“No! No, I don’t mean my family. Well, I mean I do but I don’t mean my parents. I meant more like my team.” Emily grabs your hand, pulling it close to her lips. “I haven’t told them anything but they have their suspicions.”

“God, Em, don’t scare me like that.” You let out a shuddered breath, closing your eyes. “Why do you want me to meet them suddenly?”

“Just… it would be nice, I think, if I could spend time with the people I care most altogether?” She glances at you, eyes wide.

“Oh, you’re good.”

You felt a paw lightly pat your face, the fur tickling your nose.

“Sergio, please. Five more minutes,” you groan. You turn over in bed, trying to bury your face in the pillow that still smells like Emily’s shampoo.

You hear a laugh from the other side of the room. “You should know better than that.”

“He’s your son, why isn’t he bothering you instead?”

“Because he knows that I have to get ready for work.” You hear Emily shuffling in her closet. “Hey, have you seen that blue button-up of mine, by chance?”

You pause, looking down at your body wearing that exact button-up. You pull the blanket up higher. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Might be in the dirty laundry pile? I can start it today while you’re at work.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She grunts, putting her shoes on. “Also, what do you think we should have for dinner?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” You sigh, realizing sleep is no longer coming.

Emily chuckles, sitting next to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? It’s supposed to be quick.” She presses a kiss onto your forehead. “And maybe we can…”

You smack her with her pillow. “Let you in my pants one time and now it’s all you think about. Get outta here.”

She laughs, resting her body on top of yours.

“Em! Please, I can’t breathe.” You push at her shoulders, laughing.

“You seem to be breathing just fine.” She relaxes her body even more, letting her full weight rest on you. “And I’ll have you know that you seduced me!”

“That’s not true! You’re the one who wined and dined me, showing off your fancy wine knowledge and your fancy French.”

“Fancy French?” Emily chuckles, rolling her eyes. “It’s just French, babe.”

She pushes herself up, adjusting her shirt before her eyes land on you. “Hey, that’s my shirt!”

“Oops?”

“You’re lucky I think you’re so cute.”

It starts with a small itch on your cheek during dinner that you brushed off. As you lean back into your seat as Emily drives, eyes drooping, you think it might be a stray hair tickling your face. Emily’s talking about possibly going out for drinks tomorrow night with her team but you’ve started to rub at your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” Emily’s brows furrow, watching you unable to keep your hands from your face.

“I’m okay, my face just feels a little funny.” The skin of your face actually feels so tight, especially when you try to smile. “Hey, Em…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Was there, by any chance, Thai eggplant in any of our dishes tonight?”

“I think the curry did. Why?”

You huff out a laugh. “Oh no.”

“Oh no, what? Should I be taking you to the ER?” Her voice is rising in pitch, eyes darting to try and think of the nearest ER. “Baby, you’re allergic? Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh God, do you need me to grab an EpiPen? Do you even have one?”

“Relax, Emily, I’m fine, and no need for an EpiPen. I’ll be okay, it’ll go away on its own. I’ll pop a Claritin and I should be okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re allergic? Are you allergic to anything else?” Emily’s biting onto her lower lip, eyes glancing over to you every few minutes. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

“I’m sure, but thank you for caring. And no, as far as I’m aware, I’m not allergic to anything else. I do try to stay away from fava beans though. Not allergic but it does make me feel nauseous.”

“Fava beans? What the hell are those?”

“It’s usually in like hummus and falafel, but I think you can make them into a dish itself? Not sure, but again, I stay away from it in general.”

“So hummus and falafel are banned from my house, got it.”

“Emily, don’t be ridiculous. You can have those in your house, they’re not going to kill me.” You pat her thigh. “Thank you for your concern though.”

“What if you accidentally eat it?”

“Emily,” you chuckle. “What’s the hummus going to do, open its container, scoop itself onto a spoon, and force its way into my hand?”

You spin yourself around in Emily’s chair, staring at the ceiling and wondering what movie to watch tonight. It’d been a long day for you, your flight being delayed stranding you at the airport for a few hours. By the time your plane landed, it was late, and there weren’t many cabs around. It felt like every part of your trip was a challenge, and you were just glad to finally be near Emily.

You glance at the meeting room she’s in and can only wonder what she’s discussing with Hotch that has her looking so troubled.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here! How was the flight?” Penelope leans against Emily’s desk. “I saw it was delayed.”

“You saw?” You shake your head. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Penelope grins, sending you a wink. “You should know better.”

“The flight was okay, definitely felt longer than usual. Then when I get here, there’s like no cabs at the airport. Which, fine, I get it, it’s late but seriously? And then when I try to get an Uber, the price is like triple the usual rate!” You roll your eyes, leaning back in the chair. “I should’ve just rented a car.”

“Well, at least you made it. Are we seeing you at all this weekend or is Emily hogging you for the whole time?”

“Ah, well, I guess that’s up to Emily. I’m up for a girl’s night this weekend.” You tap at your chin. “There is a cocktail lounge I’ve been wanting to try but I think they’re only accepting reservations.”

“Hm, interesting. I’m not making any promises but I’m gonna try and work some magic and see if I can get us on the list.” Penelope wiggles her eyebrows. “All you have to do is convince your big, bad girlfriend to say yes to sharing you.”

“Not a chance, Garcia.” Emily’s standing behind her, arms crossed.

“Aw, but Emily! We haven’t seen Y/N in so long and you always keep her to yourself every weekend.”

“Yeah, Emily, stop hogging me,” you tease, leaning forward onto her desk.

She throws her hands up. “Fine, we can do a girl's night. Pick a place and time, Pen, but tonight, we’re busy.” Emily tugs at your arm, pulling you to the exit.

“Goodnight, Penelope! Let me know about the cocktail lounge!” You wave, happy to be dragged away.

Once you get into Emily’s car, you can’t help but look at her and grin. “You don’t have to be so jealous, you know.”

She scoffs. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? You’re not secretly dating Penelope or JJ.” She pauses. “Are you?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Emily pinches your cheek. “Don’t be a smartass.”

“You love that about me.” You freeze, heat rushing to your face and the tips of your ears going pink. “Emily, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“I do. Love you, I mean. Granted, I didn’t think this was when I would tell you this. Maybe at a nice dinner or home but… I do.”

“Home?” You stare at her, heart stuttering. “You love me?”

“So much,” Emily breathes out.

You can only smile, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You’re something else, Emily Prentiss, but I love you too.”

“So… what are your thoughts on being neighbors?” You focus on the book in your hands, refusing to look at Emily beside you on the couch.

“Excuse me?” She lays her book down and turns to face you. “Neighbors?”

You hesitate before looking at her. “My contract in Carmel is ending and I’ve been offered an analyst position with the city. Here. I haven’t accepted yet because I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

She frowns, grabbing your hand. “Y/N… if it’s a great opportunity, you should take it regardless of my opinion.”

“I know but I don’t want to make it seem like I’m… being pushy? Or rushing you? It’s one thing to date someone long distance, it’s another to be in the same city.”

“Shouldn’t I be happy that I get to see you more often than just weekends?” She tilts her head. “Not only that, but if you don’t accept this position, doesn’t that mean you won’t have a job?”

“That’s not my point, Em. I just mean that maybe you might feel… suffocated. With me, here. Yes, we love each other but–”

“No buts.” She presses her finger against your lips. “But I’m hurt that you’re planning to be my neighbor.”

“What do you mean? You want me to live on the other side of town or something?” You grab her hand and move it to your lap. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No, I mean, why wouldn’t you just be my roommate?”

You splutter. “Excuse me? You want me to move in?”

“Well, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? If you got a place, we’d just be going back and forth between the two. Not to mention paying an unnecessarily ridiculous price for a place.” Emily begins to list the reasons on her fingers. “We have dinner together every night you’re here, you currently don’t have a car, this house is decently close to the city office, and I have the room for you. Obviously.” She leans back against the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh, and closes her eyes. “Any other concerns?”

You can only gape at her, at a loss for words.

“Now the real question is this: how much are they offering you to take the job with the city?” She opens her eyes to look at you. “Baby?”

You shake your head. “Their initial offer is for $175,000.”

“Christ, for maps?!”

“Hey! You use maps at your job all the time so you’re welcome. And I said it’s their initial offer. I’d technically be considered a senior analyst, so it’s closer to $200,000.”

Emily’s eyes roll back. “God, keep talking dirty to me.”

“Em!” You tug at her ear gently. “You’re so annoying.”

You can barely hear the knock over the music you have playing, but you’ve been expecting it. Swinging the door open, you find JJ and Henry standing with bags over their shoulders.

“Ah, my royal guests have arrived for the night.” You step aside to let them in, locking the door behind them. “Are we hungry yet?”

JJ groans. “Please tell me you made what I think you made.”

You turn the volume down on the sound system low enough to not have to yell. “That depends. What are you hoping I made?”

Henry wraps himself around your legs. “Pasta chicken, please.”

You gasp. “How did you know I made pesto chicken? Do you have superpowers?” You look up at JJ. “You can put your stuff in the guest room if you’d like. Or we can set up in the living room?”

“No, the guest room is great. I’ll be right back.” She grabs Henry’s bag from the floor and heads down the hallway.

“Alright, my dude, let’s check on the food. And I made brownies for dessert.” You guide Henry toward the kitchen, stomach grumbling. “Emily also better get her butt here sooner than later, or else.”

“Or else what?”

You jump, hand flying to your chest. “JJ, please, not everyone is an FBI agent!”

She lets out a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Habit, I guess. Did you need any help?”

You wave her off. “Nah, I got it. I have drinks in the fridge if you want some. There’s beer, wine, soda, and j-u-i-c-e.”

“Sounds good. Want me to grab you anything?” JJ tugs the fridge open, pursing her lips. “How’s the wine?”

“Don’t know, it’s Emily’s.” You let out a small laugh. “Feel free to open it.”

She shakes her head, pulling the bottle of wine out and a juice for Henry. “Her loss, I guess.”

“Whose loss?”

You both jump this time. “Christ, Emily!” You rub your temples. “I’m not going to survive like this. I feel like my heart’s restarted so many times since moving in.”

“Well, maybe if you listened to me about the music volume, you wouldn’t be so jumpy.” She tugs you close. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about music.”

“You have it on so you don’t feel lonely when you’re home alone,” Emily and JJ both recite.

“Wow.” You scoff. “I don’t say it that often!”

JJ leans down to hand Henry his juice, wiping the condensation on her pants. “You don’t have to. It’s always on when we come over.”

“And it’s always on when I come home from work.”

“Well, it’s better than just sitting here in silence by myself.”

Emily smiles, heading to the fridge. “I know you don’t like when it’s too quiet. It’s okay.”

Emily’s chin drops down to her chest and lets out a heavy sigh. She was late, much later than she told you. She rubs at the ridges of her house key feeling like a stone sat in her stomach. Things have been somewhat tense the past few weeks and she knows she hasn’t made it better. This is the fifth Friday night she’s missed, and it doesn’t help that it was your anniversary tomorrow.

She’d promised you she’d be home early but the team caught a case right after lunch. She tried to keep you updated throughout the day but by the time it hit midnight, you stopped replying. Emily pushes her way in, instantly rearming the alarm. Setting her bags down on the small side table, she heads further in, ears straining to hear for any movement.

She notes the lack of music and wonders how long it’s been off. By the time she makes it to the bedroom, she’s shed her shoes and blazer. Emily sighs once more when she sees you asleep in bed, Sergio curled onto the pillow beside you.

She makes her way to the closet, shuffling through to grab some pajamas. She can shower tomorrow morning, and maybe she can make it up to you and have you join her.

“When did you get in?”

Emily’s heart jumps as she turns to look at the bed. You’re still curled beneath the blankets but your eyes are staring straight at her.

“I’m just getting in,” she breathes out. Emily pulls her button-up and bra off, exchanging them for a large t-shirt. “Did I wake you?”

“No, Sergio did.” You glance over to the cat that’s now made himself comfortable halfway onto your forehead. “Everything at work okay?”

“Yeah, just got unlucky. We caught a case right after lunch.” She tugs her slacks off and settles into bed beside you. “Didn’t make much progress either, but the amount of bodies we kept finding were… a lot.”

You let out a quiet hum. “Make a profile yet?”

Emily shakes her head, rolling over to face you. “No, not yet. We’re missing something but we just haven’t found it yet.” She stares at you, hesitating just a bit. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay, Em, it’s work.”

“It’s not though. This isn’t the first one I’ve missed, and I’m sorry. I know it might feel like I’m not trying but I promise that I am.” She reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you or anything like that.”

“Emily, I mean it. I know how your job works. I’m not mad at you. Am I a little sad and disappointed? Anyone would be, but I’m not going to hold something like this over you. That’s like if you held a grudge against me every time I lose track of time when I’m working.” You tuck your face into her neck, breathing her in. “Just glad you’re okay.”

She squeezes you tight, letting her body relax. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah? What’d you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet but I’ll figure it out. Maybe…” Emily bites her lip, thinking. “Maybe after the case though?”

“Of course, babe. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You try to hold in your yawn, but Emily can feel it against her skin.

“Go to bed. I’ll wake you up before I leave tomorrow.”

“Mm, tell me about your case. Not too many details though.”

Emily smiles, letting her eyes close. “You don’t wanna hear about what they did to the bodies and where we found them?”

You shudder. “God, no. Just wanna hear your voice.”

“Emily, hey. I’m glad you answered.” You stuff as many shirts as you can into the small luggage, holding your cell phone between your ear and shoulder. “Listen, something’s come up and I’m on my way to the airport.”

Emily ducks into an empty conference room, leaning against the door. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”

“No, that’s not necessary. My mom called me and– it’s nothing. Not anything bad but I just have to help her sort some stuff out.” You zipped the luggage up, doing a quick scan to make sure the windows were shut and Sergio’s water bowl was filled.

“You sure I can’t do anything?” Emily turns to look out the window, unaware that she’s started to bite the nail of her thumb. “We don’t have any pressing cases right now, I can meet you–”

“It’s okay, I promise. Stay.” You set the alarm and lock the door behind you. “Just… it’s my brother. He’s always had a tough time once he finished high school. He’s been doing good, but my mom is worried. I just need to see what’s happening and have it sorted. I should be back in a few days.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m sorry, Em, my mom’s calling. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

Emily sighs when the call disconnects, shoulders slumping. It’s been a good few weeks since your anniversary and things have been getting better, but it just feels like something’s been off. She makes her way back to her desk and opens a new window on her computer.

This is wrong. You shouldn’t be looking him up. If she wanted you to know about him, she’d have told you by now. It can’t be that bad.

Emily groans, closing the window.

“What’s wrong, my dark fairy?” Penelope perches herself on the edge of Emily’s desk. “Trouble in paradise? Don’t tell me Y/N’s still mad at you. Haven’t you been taking any of my advice? Groveling, presents, and ravishing her every chance you get?”

“Penelope, please, not so loud.” Emily shakes her head. “It’s not that. She said she had to fly home to handle some stuff that’s come up and she mentioned her brother. I don’t really know much about him and I was gonna…” Emily wiggles her fingers and points to the computer. “But I can’t bring myself to do it. That’s– I shouldn’t do that, right? It’s wrong?”

“Oh-ho-ho. The good ol’ dilemma of wanting to find out what’s going on vs. not betraying someone’s trust.” Penelope leans in, lowering her voice. “As a hacker, I say do it. As a friend…”

“As a friend, don’t?”

Penelope darts her eyes to the computer. “I’d still do it, especially if I think it’s for someone’s safety or well-being!”

“Pen!” Emily drops her face into her hands. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Want me to?”

Emily thinks about it for a few minutes, worrying what your reaction might be. “Just… If you do it and you don’t find anything pressing, don’t tell me that you did it. But if it’s something bad, then tell me. I need to know if I need to be there too.”

“You got it, goth queen.”

“Happy birthday, Emily!” You lift Sergio from the floor and press his face against her cheek. “Welcome home. I hope you’re ready to celebrate.”

Emily smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Sergio’s head. “If that means relaxing on the couch with my two favorites, then I’m so ready.”

“Not just that but I also have some extra surprises in store for you.” You set Sergio into her arms and give her a quick peck. “I just need to grab them. You go get comfy and I’ll meet you in the living room?”

“It’s a date.” Emily watches you head to her office, shaking her head in disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s where she’s kept them hidden and I didn’t even think to look in there, Serg.”

Emily places Sergio onto her bed as she goes to change into pajamas. She glances at the box at the top of her closet, wondering if today would be the day.

“Em? You almost done?”

She lets out a breath, shaking her head. Not today. “Yeah, I’m just about finished. Be there in a sec.”

Lowering herself down to her knees beside the bed, she brings her face close to the cat and lowers her voice. “Listen here, buddy. I’m going to need you to put in some work and be extra cute and irresistible. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” He only stares and blinks at her.

“Oh my god, I’m losing it,” Emily mumbles, scooping Sergio back into her arms to head back to the living room. Her eyes widen when she sees the gifts on the small table. “Uh, Y/N? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who paid for a month-long trip for my birthday and didn’t let me chip in. We also flew first class, Em, first class.”

She scoffs, plopping down onto the couch. “That trust fund isn’t gonna use itself, so what better way than to spend it on you?”

You push her shoulder, settling in beside her. “I could say the same for myself, minus the trust fund. Do you wanna open gifts first or later?”

“Mm, later. I just wanna lay here with you.”

“Any movie suggestions?”

“You pick.” She buries her face into your neck, closing her eyes. “It’s been a long day so nothing too heavy or intense, please.”

“Taxi?”

“Again?”

“You said I could pick!” You poke at her side, scrolling through movies. “Do you wanna do a TV show instead?”

Emily only mumbles.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for that detailed and clear answer. That narrows down my search immensely. I have a top 3 for selection.”

“Stop being a smartass.”

You laugh, selecting Taxi anyway. The movie starts and as you both sit there, you can feel Emily’s body going lax. “Happy birthday, Emily,” you whisper.

“No, Emily, absolutely not. You can’t drive like this!” You argue, holding her car keys close to your chest. “Hotch said you can take the rest of the week off, so why don’t you?”

Emily only gives you a look.

“Uhg, I know. Can’t you just, I don’t know, get a ride from someone? I can call JJ and she can swing by?”

“I’m already up later than usual, Y/N. It’s 10. The day’s already started for the team a long time ago.”

You bite your lip, glancing at your computer. You don’t have any pressing deadlines coming up so you could technically take an early day. The real dilemma is getting Emily to agree.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” You straighten your shoulders and clear your throat. “And if you don’t agree, you’re going to have to think of another way to get to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“You let me drive you to work. I can take you now and pick you up later.”

Silence.

You can feel the heat spreading on your cheeks as you wait for Emily to say something, anything. “Em?”

“Nobody drives my Jeep but me.”

“Emily Prentiss, you literally got shot yesterday. If you think for one second I’m going to let you drive with an injury, you are out of your mind.”

She grits her teeth. “Y/N…”

“Emily.” You stare at her head-on. “If you love me as much as you say you do, you’ll let me do this for you.”

She dips her head, closing her eyes. “Fine, you can drive my Jeep but if you get a scratch on her, I’m putting my cold feet on you for a month!” Emily turns around with a huff, going to grab her work bag.

You can’t help but admire the new ring that sits on your finger as you sit at your computer. It’s been two hours since you clocked in but you can’t concentrate. The butterflies in your stomach haven’t gone away since you woke up and Emily smiled at you. Biting your lip, you try and focus on the map in front of you.

Your phone buzzes on the desk and you sigh.

Emily ❣️(9:53 AM): Get to work.

You startle, looking around the office and debating on whether you should turn the music down or not. There’s no way she’d have cameras set up without telling you, would she?

You (9:55 AM): I don’t know what you mean 🙂 Emily ❣️ (9:59 AM): I know you. Now get to work. We can celebrate again when I get home 😜

You can feel the tips of your ears go pink, locking your phone and setting it face down on the desk. Instead of getting back to work, you open a new browsing window instead and immediately search for rings. You’ve yet to find one that would fit Emily, and it’s starting to feel like you’re going to have to make a custom piece.

Your phone buzzes against the desk, causing you to jump. There’s no way you were getting anything done today.

When you swing the door open to a red-eyed JJ, your stomach drops. The way she’s looking at you is something you’ve never wanted to experience.

“JJ… don’t.” You shake your head, the ring on your finger feeling so, so heavy.

She takes in a deep breath, her voice shaky. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. She– they said she didn’t make it off the table.”

The only thing you can hear is the music you’ve been playing all day and the sound of your breathing. JJ is speaking to you, hands moving, but it’s like no words are coming out. You can’t process anything she’s saying and you can only stare into her eyes.

JJ would never lie to you and she would never put you through this if she knew there wasn’t a possibility of Emily surviving. She’s guiding you back inside, her face tight.

“Y/N?”

You look at her, finally taking her in. The tip of her nose was pink, her ponytail was a mess, and her shirt was rumpled.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m–” You’re at a loss for words, uncertain.

“I asked if you wanted to stay with me.” JJ grabs onto your hands, her eyes roaming your face. “You don’t have to be alone tonight, or any night. I’m sure Henry would love to have you and Sergio over.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to take care of one more person.”

“Y/N, it’s okay, really.” JJ glances around, wincing. “I think it would be best. At least for one night? And then we can go from there, okay? If not for you, then for me.”

You sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. You stay right here. I’ll grab you a few things and then we can go, okay?”

As JJ makes her way into the bedroom, her eyes water. This is not how she wanted to find out the two of you got engaged over the weekend. Taking a deep breath, JJ is quick to grab a change of clothes and Sergio. She finds you still sitting on the couch, the music turned off.

“Come on, let’s head out.” She squeezes your shoulder before handing you Sergio.

You slowly stand, looking down at the black cat, realizing that he won’t understand why Emily will no longer be coming around. You take in a breath and blink back the tears as you move to turn the alarm on. “Are you sure, JJ? I can stay, really. I’m sure you’d like to be alone too–”

“I want you to come, Y/N. Please. I’d like to keep you close tonight.” JJ frowns, the indecision clear on her face. “I can’t tell you everything yet, but once things are settled, I promise I will. I just need to make sure you’re safe.”

The drive to JJ’s is a blur. It felt like it went by in the blink of an eye but at the same time, it felt like hours. As you both make your way to the front door, it feels like you’ve been awake for hours. Wasn’t it just this morning that you were making plans with Emily for Friday? You have a dentist appointment tomorrow, your mom wanted you to call her back, and there’s a deadline coming up–

Your head throbs.

JJ pushes the door open, the lights off and the house is silent. “Well, looks like everyone’s asleep. Here.” She guides you to the guest room you frequented every girl’s night, not bothering to turn the light on.

As you sit, you look at her once more. “JJ…”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll figure things out, okay? And if you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

All you can do is nod as you lay down, tugging the blanket over you. “This is real, isn’t it, JJ?”

She pauses at the doorway. “Yeah, Y/N, it’s real.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “And she’s not coming back.”

“No,” she whispers.

You can feel the adrenaline and nerves finally hit, and somehow your eyes close.

“I don’t know how that makes me feel! Isn’t that why I’m here?” You raise your eyes to Dr. Crane, the psychologist that JJ has been forcing you to go to. “I told you from the start that I didn’t think that this would help.”

Dr. Crane leans forward, setting her notebook aside. “Y/N, in the past two months, do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you?”

You throw your hands up, defeated. “Sure, why not?”

“You insist that being here wouldn’t help you but you come to every appointment. That’s three times a week, by the way. You start the session calmly, and as the questions progress, so does your anger.” She taps her desk with her pen. “Not only that, but you’ve been unable to say Emily’s name once in any session, you refuse to answer questions you don’t like the answer to, and you frequently try to change the subject when I ask about your engagement.”

You wince, glancing at the ring on your finger. “Not much to talk about. It didn’t last very long.”

Oh, that one hurt.

“Look, people grieve differently, right? This is how I’m doing it.”

“And do you think that’s healthy? Being unable to say a name? Wearing a ring that you seem to resent whenever you talk about it?” You can feel yourself clenching your jaw as you look at your hands. “Are we finished for today?” You don’t wait for an answer, but stand and grab your things.

“Y/N, a loss is something so many people experience but very little know how to process. If you continue this way, how long do you think you’ll last before you’re forced to confront it?”

You say nothing as you storm out of the office, the frustration building. JJ stands from the waiting room, a frown on her face as she sees your haste to leave. She looks back toward the office before following you with a sigh.

“Y/N, you said you’d try–”

“This is me trying, JJ! I’m just– I’m not ready.” You stand on the sidewalk, staring at her. “I’m not ready to accept she’s gone. Every day I wake up, thinking that I had a bad dream. I look down at my finger and I see this ring and I wonder how much longer it’ll be until I can take it off without feeling like I’m trying to forget her.”

JJ shakes her head, hand reaching for you. “We can find you another psychologist if you want. If you think Dr. Crane isn’t helping, then we can–”

You shake your head, taking a few steps back. “No, I know. I just– I need to be alone for a little while, okay? You’ve done a lot for me these past few weeks, JJ, and I appreciate that but I just need to think.”

“Let me drop you off, then. Where are you going?”

“No, it’s fine. I can walk. Please, JJ. Just let me be alone for a little while. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll call you?” You take a few more steps back before turning away.

“Y/N! You call me if you need a ride, okay?”

You throw your hand up in acknowledgment as you briskly walk away from JJ, your head pounding.

They’re everywhere. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, it’s like they follow you all day long. You know it’s not true, but that’s what it feels like. Just how many people actually drive Jeeps? Maybe you’ll look at some data later.

It’s like the car itself was following you, trying to force you to acknowledge it. None of them are her’s though. That one’s sitting in the parking garage, untouched. Over the past few months, you’ve thought about selling it but can’t bring yourself to actually do it. It’s not like you drive it, but it’s just one more thing to hold onto.

You tap at your keyboard, the posting halfway finished. This is the fourth time you’ve tried to sell this Jeep but every time, something stops you. The first time, the wifi disconnected. The second time, Sergio jumped onto the desk and stepped onto the keyboard which caused the window to close. The third time, you kept getting interrupted by phone calls from work so you just gave up. But now? Now you don’t think you should sell it at all.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You buckle your seatbelt before looking at Emily.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She pulls away from the curb, the engine rumbling as she made her way to the highway.

“Why’d you get a Jeep?”

Emily grins. “What’s wrong with my Jeep?”

“Nothing! Just… it’s not what I would expect from someone who works for the FBI. I feel like you’d have something more, I don’t know, practical? Discrete?”

“How much more discrete could this be? It’s all black, even the rims!”

“Yeah, but I imagined you having like an SUV or something. All blacked out, reinforced, or bullet-proof, you know? Not a Jeep.”

“How do you know it’s not reinforced or bullet-proof?” Emily speeds up now that she’s on the highway. “Besides, if I ever had to, I could go off-road in this baby. Wanna see?” She jerks the steering wheel slightly, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Emily, don’t you dare! If we’re late to our reservation again–”

“Baby, on our Friday night? I would never.”

You sigh, turning your computer off. You can try again tomorrow.

“Do you think I should do it, JJ?” You gaze out of her car window, recognizing her neighborhood. “Or is it too soon?”

JJ takes in a deep breath. “I– I think you should do it if you think you’re ready. And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

“I should try though, shouldn’t I?” You begin to twist the ring on your finger, hesitant. “It hasn’t been that long but it feels like it’s been years. I feel like I’ve been living without her for so long now, but…”

“Y/N, if you want to try, you can. And if you change your mind, you can always cancel or leave. Whoever it is that you’re thinking of is hopefully a good person and can understand where you’re coming from.” JJ pulls into her driveway and turns her car off. “Look, it can be a group outing if you want. No expectations.”

You take in a deep breath, chin dropping to your chest. “My coworker. She’s been… very persistent. She knows but I can’t tell if she’s genuine or if she’s just trying to–”

“Get into your pants?”

You huff. “Yeah.”

JJ nods, getting out of the car. You follow her up through the front door, the sound of the TV on and the washing machine running.

“Then we do a group outing. You can see for yourself and we can tell you if anything feels off, okay? Or if you want, we can ask Penelope to do a quick check on her beforehand.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

JJ (7:51 PM): You sure you don’t want one of us to pick you up instead? You (7:53 PM): It’s a little too late to be asking me, JJ. She’s supposed to be here at 8. JJ (7:54 PM): And if she’s as understanding as she says she is, she wouldn’t mind.

You sigh, shaking your head. The windows light up from a car’s headlights and you make your way to the door.

As you lock the door behind you, your eyes find your coworker, Lucy, standing at the passenger door. As you approach, she opens the door.

“Hi.”

“Hello. You look beautiful.” She tilts her head. “Shall we?”

“Thank you. You, too.” You slide into her car and it feels all wrong. The height of the car, the way you fit in the seat, the windows, even the smell. You shake your head.

I have to try. I just want a good night out, whether that’s with Lucy or with my friends.

Letting out a breath, you try to relax in your seat as Lucy maneuvers her way through the city. Your eyes are playing tricks on you because you keep thinking that you see Jeeps in every parking lot you pass. You’re grateful when you arrive at the sports bar.

Once you’re settled in and made introductions, you find yourself sandwiched between Lucy and JJ in the booth. Thankfully JJ is on the inside, and you instinctively sit closer to her. It’s an easy night thanks to the group and you’re able to avoid any awkward conversations with Lucy because of them.

JJ leans in close, lowering her voice. “Doing okay?”

You nod, patting her thigh. “Yes, thank you.”

Lucy stands from the booth, shooting you a smile. “Would you like a refill?”

You didn’t even realize you had finished your drink. “Sure, yes, that’d be great. A whiskey sour, please?”

“You got it.” She makes her way to the bar, disappearing.

“Thoughts?” You murmur, fingers tracing the rim of your glass.

Penelope rests her chin in her palm. “She’s not bad, my sweet, but there’s no sparks if that’s what you’re asking. Something feels a little off too, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“She’s nice, Y/N, just…” JJ pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. “It just doesn’t feel right yet.”

It’s 2AM and Lucy insisted on walking you up to your door. She’d gotten tickets for a concert and you figured you could try being with just her without a group.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You rub the house key in your hand, trying to maintain a distance. Although her company is nice, you don’t think you could handle anything physical with her.

“Of course.” She pauses, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I know it’s late but–”

“Actually, Lucy–”

“Ah.” She nods her head, taking a small step back. “Sorry, too forward? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I know, so cliche, but it’s true. I thought I was ready to try again but I don’t think I am.” You try to smile, but it falls. “Everything feels so wrong right now. Not just you but just… every part of my life. I thought that if I put myself out there, it might be what I needed to get things going but, as you can see, it’s not working.”

“I figured.” Lucy pats your shoulder, giving you a small smile. “I didn’t think you’d say yes in the first place, but you did, so I think I ignored all the signs too. I’m really sorry, Y/N. If you ever want to talk, you can text or call me anytime, okay?”

“Okay. And I’m really sorry, Lucy.”

“Don’t apologize. I knew what I was doing, too. I’ll see you later.”

You turn away and let yourself in, leaning against the door. Your chest feels so heavy and you wonder how long you’ll continue to feel this way. All you want is for things to go back to the way they were.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #also this is my first time posting on tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird #still learning tbh #lol also not me writing this after stopping for like 4 years #:')#mine

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