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retiredteabag · 5 months ago

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Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

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You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

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ateezscupid · 4 months ago

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─── FEB FILTH FEST: Church - BONDAGE ♡

SUMMARY / You've always wanted to try bondage, but didn't know how to go about it. So, you went online and found a professional to help you.

warnings ✩ SMUT, DOM/SUB dynamics, soft dom!seonghwa, service top!hwa, sub!reader, seonghwa is literally just some stranger you hired so basically an escort or whatever, just more professional!, unprotected sex, bondage, oral (f), fingering (f)

word count ✩ 4,26k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia @aurorasjoongie

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Nope," you mutter to yourself as you scroll through the forum, "definitely not that one." You've been on this site for hours, trying to find someone who could help you with your curiosity without making you feel like a complete novice. The images and descriptions you've seen so far have been overwhelming, and you can't shake the feeling that you're about to stumble into a pit of weirdos and creeps.

"Absolutely not." You click away from the page, feeling a mix of frustration and relief. It's hard to believe that such a simple search for a bondage instructor has led you down a rabbit hole of questionable ads and eerie profiles. But you're not giving up just yet. There has to be someone out there who can introduce you to this world without making it feel like you're signing your soul away to a dark cult.

You hesitantly click on a link titled "Experienced Bondage Educator." The profile seems professional, with no explicit content in sight. You read through the details, which outline safety measures and a no-nonsense approach to BDSM education.

"Hm." You lean closer to the screen, studying the profile. "He seems okay." The profile is simple, yet alluring—no naked photos or lewd comments, just a promise of guidance from someone who knows their knots. You click the button to send a private message, your heart racing.

But instead, you got a pop-up. It was just a list of prices. Weekly, Monthly…you only wanted lessons whenever you could get them, honestly. But this was just a practice round.

"SINGLE LESSONS: $50 (+$40 for Sexual Favors.)"

Very pricey, you think, your cursor hovering over the "Send Message" button. But what's a little extra cash for peace of mind, right? You click, and a new chat window pops up. "Hello," you type, trying to sound casual. "I'm interested in learning about bondage. Would you be willing to give me some private lessons?"

You sat in front of your screen nervously waiting for a response, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum at a military parade. The cursor blinked at you, seemingly mocking your indecision. Finally, the chat box lit up with a new message. "Hello," he wrote, his screen name a simple "MasterK." His tone was surprisingly friendly, a stark contrast to the seriousness of the topic at hand.

MasterK asked for your name and a brief explanation of your experience. You told him you were a complete novice, eager to learn but cautious about the scene's reputation. He assured you that safety was his number one priority and that he enjoyed teaching those who were curious but had no desire to dive into the deep end. His words put you slightly at ease, though the price tag still nagged at the back of your mind.

Did you even want any sexual favors? You were clean yourself, but what about him? You tap your nails on your laptop's keyboard, contemplating your next move. Maybe you could just ignore that part of the price list? After all, you weren't looking for that. Just education.

But, from the pictures he posted with his body, face just barely visible, he looked attractive. It was mostly his hands that you were attracted to. Strong, yet gentle, the way they held the ropes in the pictures. The way they looped and curved around the model's wrists, not tightly, but with a firmness that suggested experience and confidence.

"Are you clean? Like, sex wise?" you finally ask, biting your bottom lip as you await his response. The chat bubble flickers with activity for a few moments before MasterK's response appears.

"Yes, I practice safe and hygienic protocols. I understand your concerns, and I assure you that my services are strictly professional. However, if you are not comfortable with the additional fee for the full experience, I can tailor the lessons to focus solely on bondage technique without any sexual elements. It's all about what you're looking for and what makes you feel safe," he writes back, his words measured and reassuring.

You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this isn't so bad after all. "I'm clean myself. I'll take the sex or whatever. I mean, I have the opportunity. Might as well," you reply, trying to sound casual. The chat bubble pulses with his response.

"Great," MasterK types. "Let's get you booked in. I usually hold my sessions in a private studio downtown. It's equipped with everything we'll need, and your safety is guaranteed."

"Cool. I mean, from the location on your site, you're right by me. How far is your studio? I might need to grab a cab," you reply, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. The anticipation was building, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement.

MasterK's response is swift and friendly. "It's about a 10-minute drive from your area. You can take a cab or use a ride-sharing service. The exact address will be shared with you once the appointment is confirmed. Also, remember to bring comfortable clothing, but I'll have some items available if you don't have anything suitable," he writes.

You nod to yourself, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. The thought of being tied up by a stranger is both exhilarating and terrifying. But you've read enough articles about consent and safety in BDSM to know that this is a chance to explore your kink with a professional. You decide to take the leap and agree to the terms, confirming your appointment for the following weekend.

And finally, it was Saturday. You didn't know what he meant by comfortable clothing and you wanted to wear something that showed your curves, and you went with a black, two-piece outfit: a simple tee and biker shorts along with your oversized jacket on top.

You took a cab to the address MasterK provided, feeling the butterflies in your stomach multiply with every passing block. The studio was tucked away in a nondescript alley, the only hint of its existence a small, discreet sign that read "The Knotty Den." You pay the driver and step out, the cool evening air doing little to calm your racing thoughts.

Walking through the door, you're immediately struck by the clean, minimalist decor. The scent of freshly sanded wood and leather fills your nostrils, and you can't help but feel a little intimidated by the array of bondage equipment lining the walls. You're greeted by a softly-lit room with a large, padded table in the center, surrounded by an assortment of chairs, benches, and what you assume are various types of restraints.

MasterK emerges from a back room, dressed in black from head to toe. His eyes are piercing, yet gentle, as he approaches you with a firm handshake. "Welcome to my studio," he says, his voice a soothing tone. "I'm your instructor for the evening, MasterK. Or Seonghwa if that makes you more comfortable." He gestures to a chair, indicating you should sit.

You take a deep breath and settle into the chair, trying to calm your racing heart. He's not what you expected—his demeanor is more calming than intimidating, which helps ease some of your anxiety. You notice his hands again, now unadorned by the ropes from his profile pictures, but they still exude the same confidence.

"H-Hi," you stutter, taking in the sight of Seonghwa—MasterK—up close. He's taller than you anticipated, with a presence that fills the room despite the spaciousness of the studio. His smile is welcoming, his eyes a comforting shade of brown that seems to read your soul. You feel a strange sense of safety in his gaze.

"Let's get started," he says, his voice a smooth blend of authority and kindness. He guides you to the center of the room where the padded table awaits. The leather is cold against your skin as you sit on the edge, your knees tightly pressed together.

Seonghwa opens a chest at the side of the room, revealing an organized selection of ropes, cuffs, and other gear. He selects a set of soft, red ropes and begins explaining the basics of bondage, his hands moving with a mesmerizing fluidity. You listen intently, nodding along, trying to absorb every word like a sponge in a pool of water.

"You have a favorite color you want me to use?" Seonghwa asks, holding up the red ropes.

You blush slightly, feeling a little embarrassed. "No, I don't have a preference. Red is fine," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Okay. You should take your jacket off, too. It's better to learn without any unnecessary layers," Seonghwa says, his eyes never leaving yours as he holds out a hand to help you remove your oversized jacket. You hesitate for a moment, feeling a little more exposed than you're used to, but his gentle touch and the warmth of the room soon have you discarding it.

You were right for paying the extra fee for sexual favors because good lord, the thought of him without clothes on immediately plagued your mind.

He starts by showing you the ropes, explaining their different types and purposes. You can't help but feel a tingle of excitement as he runs the soft, red ropes through his fingers, demonstrating how to hold and manipulate them. His hands are strong yet gentle, and you find yourself imagining what it would be like to have them on your body.

"What position do you want to be in?" Seonghwa asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation or discomfort. You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I-I'm not sure. What do you recommend for beginners?"

"Mmm." he narrows his eyes. "Either doggystyle or missionary. Whichever you prefer."

You gulp, feeling a sudden rush of nerves. "Missionary," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. Seonghwa nods understandingly, laying out the ropes on the table. He explains that this position allows for the most control and safety for your first time, which you appreciate.

"And what sexual favors did you want? You asked if I'm clean, so clearly you want penetration. But, was there anything else?" His voice is calm and measured, but you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

You shake your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. "I-I don't know. Just… whatever's normal, I guess." You feel a mix of excitement and fear, but you're also curious.

"Alright. Do you mind…removing your clothes? It'll make the process easier and quicker." Seonghwa's voice is steady, as if asking you to take your shoes off at the door, not disrobe in front of him.

Now you were kind of embarrassed. You were already soaked down there. But you nodded, taking off your tee and shorts, leaving your bra and panties on. He nodded in approval, and you laid down on the table. The coolness of the leather made your skin break out in goosebumps, but the warmth of your own excitement quickly overtook the sensation.

"If you want to move to a different surface at any time, let me know. I have more comfortable areas." Seonghwa says, as you lay there feeling the coldness of the table. You nod, trying to hide your nervousness as he approaches you. He's professional, but you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation at what's to come.

He starts by placing a soft, padded cushion under your hips, ensuring that your comfort is a priority. Then he takes one of the red ropes and shows you how to hold it in a way that won't cause you any pain, but will still be effective in securing you in place. He explains that communication is key in bondage, and that you should always have a safe word ready. You nod, choosing the word "pumpkin"—random, but it feels right.

He took his time with you, showing you how to tie a basic wrist restraint. His hands were firm yet tender as he demonstrated the right amount of tension. You watched in amazement as the rope began to take shape around your wrist, creating a delicate but unmistakable bond. The feeling of being restrained, even in such a simple way, was already starting to stir something within you—a mix of vulnerability and excitement.

Within the blink of an eye, you were tied up, your wrists bound to your ankles and your legs spread wide flawlessly. The anticipation was unbearable. Seonghwa's eyes never left yours, searching for any sign of fear or discomfort. You nodded slightly, giving him the green light to proceed.

"So I'm…only bound in like, one area? It seems so…simple," you say, your voice betraying a hint of disappointment.

"Well, this is for beginners, love." Oh god, the pet name. There was definitely a visible pool of wetness in your underwear. "But if you want to be more…involved, I can add more complexity to your restraints," Seonghwa says with a smirk. He runs his hand lightly down your bare leg, sending shivers up your spine.

"T-This is fine," you stutter, feeling the ropes bite into your skin just enough to remind you of your vulnerability. Seonghwa nods, seemingly satisfied with your response. He walks beside the table now and leans down in front of a small side table, pulling the drawer open and grabbing a condom and bottle of lube.

Words couldn't even describe how badly you wanted him.

He sat them down and ran his hand up and down your leg again. "Are you ready?"

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow pants. You were more than ready.

"I'll perform regular oral on you, fingering, and then penetration. You can use your safeword whenever you feel it's too much and need a break." Seonghwa's voice is low and steady, his gaze intense as he looks down at you, sprawled out on the table. You nod, feeling the warmth spread through your body at the thought of his mouth on you.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the table and knelt down in front of you, pushing your underwear to the side to reveal your wetness. Your legs trembled as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. His tongue was soft and explorative, tracing your slit with gentle strokes that made your hips buck involuntarily. You moaned softly, the feeling of his mouth on you sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

"Just relax," he murmured against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Let me take care of everything."

And so you did. As Seonghwa's mouth worked its magic, you felt your body melt into the table. He knew exactly how to coax the most pleasure from you, his tongue swirling around your clit in a rhythm that had you panting for more. You've had oral before, but this was different—it was like he was reading your mind, knowing exactly what you needed before you even knew it yourself.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned louder as Seonghwa's tongue grew more insistent. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye before plunging two fingers inside you without warning. You gasped, the sudden fullness surprising and overwhelming in the best way possible. He curled them in a come-hither motion, hitting that spot deep within that had you seeing stars.

"Oh my god-!" you leaned your head back, eyes rolling up as Seonghwa's skilled fingers worked in tandem with his mouth. The feeling was indescribable, and your body responded with eager jerks and twitches. Each stroke was deliberate, each suckle precise—it was as if he had a map of your pleasure points and was navigating them with expert ease.

You were glad that you could still close your legs, so you did. You squeezed your thighs around his head, trapping him in your wetness as he devoured you. His fingers continued to move in and out of you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl with every stroke. You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your belly that grew tighter and tighter with every touch of his tongue.

"S-Seonghwa!" you whimper, your voice strained and breathy. You didn't know if you could take much more of this exquisite torture.

He pulls back slightly, smiling up at you. "Good girl," he murmurs before returning his attention to your sensitive clit. He increases his pace, and the pressure of his tongue and fingers builds until you're teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Not being able to move your arms felt like torture, but god, it so exciting at the same time. You've never been so vulnerable. His tongue danced around your clit, flicking and circling until you couldn't take it anymore. The orgasm that had been building explodes through you, your body arching off the table as your legs tighten around his head.

"I-I'm gonna cum," you manage to gasp out, your voice thick with desire.

Seonghwa's only response is a low, approving grumble, his fingers working faster and his mouth sucking harder. The pressure is unbearable, yet you crave more. Your eyes roll back in your head as the orgasm crashes over you, making your body convulse and your muscles tighten around his invading digits. The feeling is so intense, so all-consuming, that you scream out his name, the sound echoing through the quiet studio.

"F-Fuck! Fuck, Seonghwa!" you scream, your body trembling uncontrollably as you ride out the intense wave of pleasure. His fingers don't stop their relentless pace, even as your orgasm subsides, pushing you towards another peak with every stroke.

Seonghwa pulls away from your pussy with a wet pop, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watches you pant and squirm against the ropes. "You taste delicious," he murmurs, his thumb idly circling your clit.

"Ah," you were so sensitive, so overwhelmed with the aftershocks of your orgasm that you could barely speak. But you felt a strange sense of empowerment, like you'd just unlocked a secret chamber in your mind that had been waiting for you all along. "W-what's next?"

He didn't answer as he stood, undoing his belt with a smooth, almost ceremonial air. He was still fully dressed except for his unbuckled belt, and you found yourself eager to see the rest of him. He pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and you felt a thrill run through you. This was really happening.

He reached for the condom and ripped it open, rolling it down his length with a confidence that made your heart race. You couldn't help but stare as he lubed himself up, the sight of him preparing to enter you making your stomach flip. You've never been so exposed, so ready for someone.

He climbed onto the table and positioned himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. "Ready?" he asked, his voice gruff with desire. You nodded, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. He pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of being filled so completely.

The stretch was incredible, the way he filled you up, so much so that you felt like you couldn't take it anymore. But as he inched further in, you felt yourself relax, your body welcoming him in. "You're so tight," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he began to move.

"Definitely…the tightest…client I've had," he says with a smirk, pushing in a bit more. You feel a slight pain, but it's overshadowed by the exhilaration of the moment. "Just breathe," Seonghwa instructs, his voice a gentle command. You do as told, feeling his cock stretching you open, filling you up until you're sure you're going to burst.

As he starts to move, the pain fades away, replaced by a deep, intense pleasure that makes you moan with every thrust. The ropes dig into your skin, reminding you of your restraint, adding a new layer to the sensations coursing through your body. You can't help but tug at them, testing the limits of your bondage.

"S-Seo-Seonghwa!" You gasped as he pushed in deeper, the sound of your voice muffled by the leather of the table. He leaned over you, placing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he began to move with a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you squirm against the ropes. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every movement, your body desperate for more.

"D-Does this feel good?" he managed to ask, his voice thick with lust. Seonghwa's eyes never leave yours, his expression a mix of concentration and pleasure as he watches your face contort with every thrust.

"Y-Yes," you moan, your voice a breathless whisper. The feeling of his cock inside you is like nothing you've ever experienced—intimate, yet overwhelmingly powerful. You can feel your walls clench around him, desperate to keep him there. He begins to pick up the pace, his movements growing more forceful, and you realize that you want it—you want him to take you, to claim you in this primal dance of dominance and submission.

You could see his expressions changing frequently, as if he was losing control of himself. He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was because he was good at his job or maybe it was because he actually enjoyed it. But you didn't care, you liked it, the way he looked at you as if he was the one who was the novice, learning every little noise that you make, every little twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

"Tell me how it feels," he urges, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire being.

"S-So good," you pant, your voice barely audible. "It feels…amazing." The words come out in a rush as he starts to hit that perfect spot inside you, making you see stars with every deep, hard thrust.

Seonghwa's grip on your hip tightens, his pace increasing as he drives into you with a fervor that makes your breath catch in your throat. You can feel his muscles tensing, his movements growing more urgent as he chases his own climax.

His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned over you, lowering his head trying to focus on his climax. You could see him trying to hold it back, his body shaking with the effort. But the sight of him losing control was too much. You couldn't help but moan louder, your body responding to his need.

"C-Cum in me, please! P-Please, I need it," your thighs shut around his waist, squeezing him tightly as the ropes dug into your skin. The sensation was unbearable, a mix of pain and pleasure that had you on the edge of another orgasm.

Seonghwa's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking with yours. He nodded, his movements becoming more frantic as he pounded into you, his breaths coming in harsh pants. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your desperate pleas for release.

"S-Shit-" he shudders. "Even with a condom on you feel-" He stops talking as he focuses on his task at hand, his strokes becoming more erratic as he tries to hold on. "You're gonna make me-"

You nod, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. "Do it," you whisper, your voice husky with need. "Cum for me."

The words seem to be the final push he needs. With a roar, Seonghwa slams into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he reaches his peak. The sensation of him coming inside the condom sends you hurtling over the edge again, your own orgasm crashing over you in a wave of pleasure that leaves you trembling and breathless.

You both try catching your breaths, his body still connected with yours, your eyes locked in a silent conversation of satisfaction. He slowly pulls out, his cock still semi-hard, and carefully unbinds your limbs, massaging the areas where the ropes had dug into your skin. The cool air hits you, making you shiver, but the warmth of his hands is soothing.

"How was it?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or dissatisfaction. You smile, feeling a bit shy.

"Very…wow." You manage to get out, your voice still shaky from the intense orgasm. Your body feels like a puddle of goo, and your mind is racing with the aftermath of what just happened.

"Good. That's good to hear," he gulps, looking down for a moment. "I normally don't, uh, come that quickly. I last much longer than that…" Seonghwa trails off, seeming a little embarrassed by his loss of control. You laugh, the sound a little shaky.

"You…don't?" you ask, a playful smile playing on your lips. Despite the situation, you felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had brought him to climax so quickly. "So I'm special?"

Seonghwa chuckles, his eyes meeting yours as he nods. "Very special," he says, his voice gentle. He helps you sit up, his hands lingering on your shoulders. You feel a strange sense of camaraderie with him, a bond formed through shared experience and trust.

"Uh, what's your number? I'd…like to do this again. And would also get to know you better." The question slipped out before you could think, but Seonghwa's smile grew wider.

"I'd like that," he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

#february filth fest #ateez #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours #Spotify

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vingtetunmars · 12 days ago

Text

In the Dark

Pairing: Joel Miller X F!Reader

Summary: You've known Joel Miller your whole life — as your dad’s best friend, as Sarah’s father, and now, quietly, as yours. In a world that still thinks of you as the babysitter he once trusted, the two of you navigate love in the margins.

Tags: NSFW, smut(18+), dbf!Joel, Austin!Joel, no outbreak, no Ellie (sorry), Sarah is Alive, modern au, established relationship, secret relationship, age gap (mid 20s/late 40s), oral sex f receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), p-in-v. No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N.

A/N: I said I'm gonna write dbf!joel, and I've come to deliver. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 8.7k

masterlist

The phone rang just as you were sliding your leftovers into the fridge, still dressed in the same slacks you'd been wearing since nine that morning. You didn’t even check the caller ID. Only one person still called you instead of texting—your dad.

You tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear, closing the fridge with your hip.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, voice warm with that familiar Southern rasp. “You busy this weekend?”

You paused, leaning against the counter. “I wasn’t planning on it. Why?”

“Thinkin’ of throwing a little barbecue Saturday. Nothin’ big, just the usual crew. Figured you could come by, see your old man, eat some actual food instead of that fancy city stuff.”

You smiled despite yourself. “Barbecue doesn’t sound too bad.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled. “Joel’ll be there too. Said he might bring ribs.”

Your stomach twisted, but you kept your voice level. “Cool. Sounds good.”

“You can bring someone if you want,” he added, casual but with that hopeful tone he always used when fishing for information. “A date. Or… you know. A friend.”

You laughed, deflecting. “If I can find someone who’s not terrified of you and your smoker, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s fair,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “Alright. Don’t be late, alright? I’m puttin’ you in charge of the potato salad.”

You groaned. “Why do I always get stuck with the most boring side?”

“Because I trust you not to screw it up.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thanks, Dad.”

“See you Saturday, kiddo.”

The call ended, and you set your phone down gently. The apartment was quiet again, the soft hum of the city filtering in through the windows. Outside, the downtown lights blinked against the early summer haze, and traffic rumbled lazily over the bridge nearby.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the produce section was packed with tired people in business casual, all moving like zombies on autopilot. You weaved through them with a half-full basket, already regretting your decision not to order delivery.

A tub of mayonnaise, a bag of red potatoes, mustard, celery. You mentally checked them off one by one, grabbing them with robotic precision. All that was left was the wine, and maybe something sweet for yourself, because you survived another week without quitting your job or snapping at a VP. Barely.

You turned down the wine aisle and reached for your usual bottle of red when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Joel

You going tomorrow?

Your hand froze on the bottle neck.

You blinked at the screen, warmth blooming low in your stomach like it always did when his name lit up your phone. A short, simple message, and still—it hit different.

You typed back quickly, glancing around like someone might be reading over your shoulder.

You

Yeah, just grabbing stuff now. You?

A pause.

You picked up the wine and added it to your basket, chewing your lip.

Then your phone buzzed again.

Joel

Wouldn’t miss it. Even if your dad makes me haul that damn smoker across the yard again.

You smiled, thumb hovering over the screen for a second longer than necessary before responding.

You

Sounds like free labor to me.

Joel

Only for you.

Your breath hitched just a little. You glanced around the aisle again, but no one paid you any mind. Just strangers, scanning labels and tapping their credit cards against machines. The whole world, going about its business. Like this was nothing.

You

See you tomorrow ♡

You hit send before you could second-guess it.

Joel

See you ♡

Then you tucked your phone back into your coat pocket, cheeks warm, heart a little lighter than it had been all day.

Saturday afternoon in the suburbs felt like a different planet compared to downtown Austin.

You turned off the main road and into your dad’s neighborhood, windows down, letting the warm breeze roll through your car. Lawns were freshly cut, kids zipped by on bikes, and someone a few houses down was already grilling—smoke curling into the sky and mixing with the smell of charcoal and sun.

Your childhood home looked exactly the same. A little more faded around the edges, maybe, but still steady. Still lived-in. You parked behind Joel’s old pickup, the same one he’d driven since you were sixteen, and grabbed the grocery bag from your passenger seat.

Your dad was already in the backyard, you could hear the low hum of country music and the occasional pop of laughter. You let yourself in through the front door and made a beeline for the kitchen to drop off the wine and potato salad.

"About time," your dad called from the back. “Joel’s already got the grill going!”

You rolled your eyes and slipped through the sliding door, stepping into a wall of heat, smoke, and familiar voices. Your dad was by the smoker, drink in hand, and a couple of neighbors you half-recognized from years ago waved lazily from lawn chairs.

And then there was Joel.

He stood near the patio table, tongs in hand, dressed in a dark tee and jeans, boots dusty like always. His salt-and-pepper hair curled slightly from the heat. He looked up the moment you stepped out—and for a second, just a second—you saw it.

The flicker.

But it was gone just as fast.

"Hey, there she is," Joel said, smiling like it was any other Saturday.

You walked over, setting the grocery bag on the table. “You start grilling without me?”

"Would’ve waited, but someone was late.” His tone was teasing, casual. "Got your dad all riled up, thought he’d have to make the potato salad himself.”

You smirked. “Yeah, I’d pay to see that.”

He chuckled, reaching into the bag to peek at what you brought. His fingers brushed yours—just briefly—but the touch was so quick, so natural, it didn’t even register to anyone else.

You both had this down to a science.

“Wine’s a good pick,” he said, turning the bottle to glance at the label. “Still got good taste.”

Your dad called for him then, something about the coals being too hot, and Joel gave you a final glance—one you could only read because you knew him.

See you later.

Be careful.

I missed you.

All folded into one half-second look.

And then he was gone, back to tending the fire and cracking jokes like nothing in the world was different.

But you knew better.

Laughter floated through the open windows, mixed with the hiss of meat on the grill and the clink of beer bottles. You’d made the rounds, hugged neighbors, helped your dad carry out an extra chair, and politely dodged questions about your love life like a professional.

But the heat was getting to you now—not just the Texas summer kind. The kind that lingered in your chest every time you caught Joel’s eye. The kind that burned a little behind your ribs whenever his shoulder brushed yours too close in passing.

So when you slipped inside with an empty glass in hand, no one questioned it. Not even your dad, too distracted retelling some story at full volume.

Joel followed five minutes later.

You heard the back door creak, quiet, careful. The same rhythm you knew by heart. You were already upstairs, the old hardwood groaning under your step as you moved toward your childhood bedroom. The door was cracked open, like it always used to be.

You slipped inside.

The room hadn’t changed much. Your dad had left it mostly intact, save for the treadmill shoved in the corner and the stack of old mail on your desk. Posters from your high school days still hung on the walls, and your twin bed creaked the same way it always had when you sat down on the edge.

Joel entered without knocking.

His eyes swept over you, and the way the tension dropped from his shoulders—it did something to you. Like you were the relief he didn’t even know he needed.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he murmured, shutting the door softly behind him.

You didn’t say anything. Just stepped toward him.

He met you halfway, one hand finding your waist with practiced ease, the other cupping your jaw as your mouths found each other. You kissed him slow, greedy, like trying to make up for all the words you hadn’t said earlier. He tasted like smoke and mint, like Texas heat and memory.

His hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. You tilted your head back, breath hitching as he pressed you gently against the door.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whispered between kisses, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded.

Joel smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching against your skin. “You say that every time.”

“And every time, I mean it.”

“But you still let me.”

You kissed him again briefly before letting your forehead rest against his chest, heart racing as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you like it was the only time he’d get to.

“I missed you,” you said softly, the words muffled against his shirt.

“Been missin’ you all week,” he replied, his voice low and rough. “Thought I was gonna lose it seein’ you out there and not bein’ able to touch you.”

“You’re touching me now.”

“Not nearly enough.”

A moment passed. Then another.

And then you both sighed—because you knew the clock was ticking.

He kissed your temple, a gentle press of lips that made your chest ache. “Come on,” he murmured. “Before your dad starts wonderin’ why we both disappeared.”

You nodded, fixing your shirt, smoothing your hair in the mirror as Joel opened the door like he hadn’t just backed you up against it five minutes ago.

He walked out first. You followed a minute later, empty glass in hand again like nothing had happened.

Just another summer evening.

Just another barbecue.

Just another secret, tucked between the walls of the house you used to call home.

The backyard had settled into that perfect golden-hour rhythm—half-eaten plates on paper napkins, someone’s Bluetooth speaker playing Tom Petty, and a few neighborhood kids trying to catch fireflies under the trees. Your dad was deep in conversation with Joel by the grill, both of them gesturing with tongs like they were debating something deeply important. You smiled to yourself, sipping your wine and letting the humid air cling to your skin.

You hadn’t seen Sarah in a while. She’d grown so much since the last time you babysat her—taller now, more confident, with that same mischief in her eyes Joel always carried in his smirk.

She flopped into the chair beside you, a can of sparkling water in hand.

"Hey, stranger," she said, nudging your knee with hers. “You still too cool for the suburbs?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Always. But you’re making a strong case for coming back.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. “You missed some good stuff. I won the school art show last month. You would’ve been proud. It was this chaotic collage thing—I called it ‘burnout but pretty.’”

“That sounds amazing. You gotta show me later.”

“I will.” She leaned back in the chair, legs stretched out in front of her. “Dad wouldn’t shut up about you coming today, by the way. Acted like you were the main attraction.”

Your stomach twisted—just a little. You hid it with a smile.

“Yeah, he still treats me like I’m the mayor of Austin or something.”

“He’s always liked you,” she said, casually. “Like, even when I was a kid, he always said you were the only babysitter who didn’t just put me in front of the TV and text boys.”

You laughed, but the guilt pressed just a bit heavier now.

Because you’d kissed her dad. Not just kissed. You knew every line of his hands. You knew the exact sound he made when you touched the side of his neck. And here Sarah was, still seeing you the way she always had—someone safe. Someone good.

You glanced toward the grill, where Joel was laughing at something your dad said, his whole face lit up in the kind of smile you rarely got to see in public. Your heart ached.

Sarah leaned forward, elbow on her knee. “You good?”

“Huh?”

“You spaced out for a sec.”

You shook your head quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Just... tired. Long week.”

She gave you a look. “Corporate life killing your soul again?”

“Every damn day,” you said, grateful for the shift. “If you ever sell that ‘burnout but pretty’ collage, I’ll hang it in my office to remind me to quit.”

“I’ll send you a print,” she said, nudging you again.

You smiled, and this time, it wasn’t so forced.

The guilt hadn’t gone away. But maybe for now, you could pretend things were still simple. That you weren’t balancing between who you used to be to this family, and who you were now—when no one was looking.

It was just past six when your phone buzzed.

Joel

Almost there. You leave the door unlocked?

You smiled to yourself, already padding barefoot across your apartment floor to make sure the deadbolt was undone. The evening light poured in through your living room windows, casting long amber stripes across the couch, the throw blanket, the half-finished glass of wine on the coffee table.

You

Door’s open. Hurry up, old man.

You set your phone down and smoothed your palms over your top, suddenly a little more aware of how you looked. Not that you were dressed up—just cotton shorts and a loose t-shirt—but with Joel, comfort was kind of the point.

He hadn’t been to your place since the barbecue a week ago. Things had been busy—life, work, the usual distractions. But the quiet ache in your chest hadn’t let up since you last saw him.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open. His footsteps were familiar, slow and steady across your hardwood floor.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the kitchen island.

Joel shut the door behind him, that slow smile pulling at his lips the second he saw you. “Hey, yourself.”

He looked good—black t-shirt, jeans slung low on his hips, his hair a little messy like he’d run his hand through it too many times on the drive over. The kind of casually disheveled that made your stomach flutter.

You walked over, meaning to hug him, maybe kiss his cheek—but Joel didn’t stop at polite. His arms wrapped around you with something deeper, something full of relief and want. He held you close, lips brushing the side of your neck.

“Missed you,” he murmured.

You melted a little. “I missed you, too.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss you, slow and lingering, his thumb resting at your jaw like he didn’t want to let go. And god, you’d forgotten how grounded you felt with him—how quiet the world became when he was close.

“Barbecue wasn’t enough time,” he said quietly, brushing his nose against yours.

“Nope,” you replied, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Didn’t even get to finish a conversation with you without someone yelling about grill tools.”

He laughed against your mouth, and you felt it all the way down your spine.

“Good thing I’m here now.”

You nodded. “You staying a while?”

His eyes met yours—deep, unreadable, but warm. “That depend on if I’m wanted.”

You didn’t answer. Just leaned in and kissed him again—slow, unhurried, letting it build.

Because you had the night.

And maybe the conversation would last this time.

Or maybe it wouldn’t.

Because when Joel’s hands slid under the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter with practiced ease, conversation was the last thing on your mind.

Joel didn’t rush.

His hands were steady, warm against your skin as he guided you back onto the kitchen counter, lips never straying far from your neck. The loose hem of your t-shirt rose higher with each soft press of his fingers along your thighs.

“You always greet me like this?” he murmured against your jaw. “Or am I just lucky?”

You smiled, breath hitching as his hands gripped behind your knees and pulled you forward, hips flush with the edge of the counter. “You’re not lucky,” you whispered, curling your fingers into his hair. “You’re mine.”

That did something to him—you could feel it in the way his hands tightened slightly, the way he breathed in deep, like he was trying not to unravel all at once.

He kissed you again, deeper now, slow and searching. One hand held the small of your back while the other slid beneath your shirt, fingers grazing your side until they reached the curve of your breast. He circled your nipple softly, until you arched into him with a quiet gasp.

“Always so responsive,” he said lowly, watching your face. “Drives me crazy.”

And then, without warning, he dropped to his knees.

Right there in the middle of your kitchen, his shoulders pressing between your legs as he gently hooked his fingers into the waistband of your sleep shorts. You lifted your hips automatically, your heart thudding as he slid them down with a kiss to your inner thigh.

The moment was quiet, thick with anticipation—until he looked up at you with that dark, focused stare, and then lowered his mouth to your pussy.

His tongue was patient, slow as he explored you, dragging deliberately between your folds until your hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He moaned against you softly—like you were something to be savored, worshipped.

You whimpered, tilting your hips toward his mouth, chasing the warmth of his tongue as he flicked it over your sensitive clit.

“Joel—”

He glanced up again, lips shining, eyes heavy-lidded. “Right here, baby. I got you.”

He returned his mouth to you, hands tightening on your hips to keep you steady. His tongue moved with more purpose now—circling, stroking, coaxing. You could feel your breath stuttering, heat coiling low in your belly with every pass of his tongue through your entrance, every soft press of his lips.

Your thighs trembled around his shoulders.

“Let go,” he murmured against your rose, voice rough. “Let me take care of you.”

And you did.

You came with a quiet cry, hips bucking against his mouth as he held you firm, licking you through it with unrelenting devotion. He stayed there even as your breathing slowed, as your muscles relaxed, until your hand finally found his hair and tugged gently.

He rose slowly, face flushed and damp, looking more undone than you’d ever seen him. And the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the room that mattered—made your heart stutter all over again.

Joel carried you to the bedroom like he always did—steady, careful, as if you were something delicate he couldn’t risk breaking. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your face tucked into the curve of his neck, still warm from everything he’d just done to you.

The bedroom light was off, but the city glow leaked in through the window blinds, casting faint lines of gold and shadow across the sheets. He laid you down with a soft exhale, his eyes drinking you in as he hovered above you, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough, but tender.

You nodded, one hand slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against his stomach. “More than okay.”

Joel leaned down and kissed you again—slow, lingering, and full of quiet hunger. His shirt joined yours on the floor a moment later, and your hands were all over him. You knew this body. The slope of his shoulders, the map of old scars and sun-warmed skin. But tonight he felt different—more intent. Like he missed you in a way that wasn’t just physical.

You ran your fingers down his chest, pausing to brush lightly over his buttons. He groaned softly at the contact, duck already twitching in his jeans, straining against the fabric.

“Take these off,” you whispered, tugging at the waistband.

He smiled against your mouth. “Bossy tonight.”

You only gave him a look, and he gave in with a laugh, pushing his jeans and boxers down with a practiced ease. His cock sprang free, already thick and hard, and your thighs instinctively parted beneath him.

Joel kissed a path down your neck, across your collarbone, pausing to take one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue circled it slowly, teasing, until your back arched and your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Need you,” you breathed.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “You got me.”

You reached between your bodies and guided him to your entrance, his cock nudging against your folds, slick with anticipation. The stretch was slow and steady, and you both let out breathless sounds as he sank into you.

“Jesus,” he muttered, forehead dropping to yours. “Still so damn tight.”

You clung to him, gasping softly as he filled you, inch by inch, until he was fully seated. The way he moved—it wasn’t rushed. It was measured, almost reverent. Like he needed to feel every inch of you around him. Like he needed to remind himself you were real.

His thrusts started slow, deep, rocking into you with the kind of patience only he had. You met each one with soft moans, your body rising to meet his rhythm, your pussy aching around him as he hit all the right angles.

“Look at me,” he whispered, brushing your hair from your face. “Wanna see you.”

You obeyed, eyes locking with his. And what you saw there—affection, want, something dangerously close to love—it made your chest ache in the best way.

He kissed you through it. Again and again. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to keep him closer, deeper.

Joel’s pace quickened just slightly, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the quiet room. His name left your lips over and over, a soft, breathy chant that only made him move harder, rougher, until the tension began to coil in your belly again.

“I’m close,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, his voice ragged. “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

You fell apart with him still buried deep inside you, your whole body shaking as he followed soon after—grunting your name as he spilled into you, hips stuttering, head buried in the crook of your neck.

He didn’t pull away immediately.

Just held you there, chest heaving, lips pressed against your skin.

You lay tangled in the sheets, skin still humming, Joel’s weight half on top of you, his head resting just below your collarbone. His hand was splayed low on your stomach, thumb stroking mindless patterns into your skin like he didn’t want to stop touching you.

Outside, the city buzzed faintly. Inside, all you could hear was his breathing—slowing, settling—and the ticking of your wall clock.

You ran your fingers through his hair, combing gently at the roots. “You gonna fall asleep on me?”

He grunted, not moving. “Think I earned a nap.”

You smiled. “You gotta be home by ten, old man.”

“Mmm. Don’t remind me.”

But he shifted, pressing a kiss just above your breast before rolling onto his side. He pulled you with him, wrapping his arms around you until your cheek was tucked against his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

You stayed there for a while. No words. Just warmth. Safety. Familiarity.

Eventually, he sighed. ��Sarah’s got school in the morning. I told her I was runnin’ errands tonight.”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t get cold or weird. You just nodded against him. “She still sleeping over at Kayla’s this weekend?”

“Yeah. Friday night.”

You traced a little line over the faint scar near his shoulder. “Then I’ll keep Friday open.”

He kissed your hair in response.

This was how it always was—quiet goodbyes, softened by shared warmth and trust. You never made him feel guilty. You never needed more than what he could give. And he never treated you like a secret to be ashamed of—just a quiet part of his world no one else knew about.

“I’ll clean up in the kitchen before I head out,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You leaned back enough to look at him, still smiling. “You’re really domestic after sex, you know that?”

He smirked, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “I like takin’ care of you.”

That made your heart squeeze a little.

You leaned up and kissed him—slow and sweet. “Then go be a dad, Joel. I’ll be here.”

He nodded, reluctantly untangling himself from your arms. He always moved slower when it was time to leave, like he wanted to drag it out just a few more seconds.

And you let him.

Because time with Joel wasn’t just stolen.

It was sacred.

He hadn’t expected to see you there.

It was some bar downtown, nothing special—brick walls, decent live music, too many guys in jeans trying to look like cowboys. Joel had just come in for a drink and maybe some quiet. Then he caught a flash of you out of the corner of his eye—walking past with that confident sway in your step, a soft smile tucked into your lips, like you knew exactly who you were.

It knocked the wind out of him a little.

You hadn’t seen him yet, but he watched you talk to someone at the bar, then laugh—head tilted back, eyes bright. You looked older. More sure of yourself. Not the kid who used to babysit Sarah, who sat on the back porch eating popsicles and trying not to look too bored when the grown-ups talked.

You spotted him a few minutes later. Gave him a wave and made your way over.

“Joel,” you’d said, sliding into the booth across from him. “I didn’t expect meeting you here?”

He huffed. “Just tryin’ somethin’ new.”

It started casual. Friendly. A few drinks. Jokes. Updates on life and work. You told him about your new job downtown. He told you about Sarah’s soccer team and how bad he was at parallel parking. It felt easy. Familiar. But something was different. There was something in your eyes tonight—something bold.

And when your knee brushed his under the table, you didn’t pull away.

Joel ignored it. He had to.

You leaned in a little more when you laughed. You licked the rim of your glass slow. You twirled a strand of hair around your finger like it was nothing.

And then your foot slid up his calf.

He blinked at you. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

You tilted your head, that grin getting just a little more dangerous. “Just talking.”

“That ain’t just talkin’.”

You shrugged, playing innocent. “Maybe I like you, Miller.”

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand across his mouth. “You’ve been drinkin’.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“I’m old enough to be your—”

“Don’t.” Your voice cut clean through the booth. “Don’t say dad. You’re not. You’re my dad’s friend. That’s not the same.”

He stared at you, shaking his head. “Still ain’t right.”

“Why?” you challenged, voice lower now. “Because it makes you feel something? Because I’m not a kid anymore, and you can’t look away?”

Joel looked down at the table, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t let this happen. But damn it, you weren’t wrong. You weren’t a kid. And you looked at him like he was wanted—like he was more than some aging contractor with baggage and a quiet house.

“You keep pushin’,” he muttered. “I’m gonna give in.”

You smiled. “Good.”

That did it.

He threw down a few bills for the drinks and grabbed your hand without another word. You followed without hesitation, matching his pace through the back door and out into the quiet alley where his truck was parked. The second the door closed behind you both, the tension snapped.

Joel backed you against the side of his truck, mouth crashing into yours like he’d been holding back for years. Your fingers fisted in his shirt. His hands were already sliding under yours. You moaned into his mouth, and he drank it in like he’d been starving.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against your lips. “One word and I will.”

But you didn’t.

You pulled him closer.

And just like that, the boundary shattered.

Right there in the dark, behind that downtown bar, he stopped being your dad’s best friend.

And you stopped being off-limits.

It was one of those rare slow days—no meetings, no client calls, no deadline breathing down your neck. The sun was high, Austin heat thick but bearable, and your fridge was nearly empty. So you figured you’d kill two birds with one stone: stop by the grocery store and then pay your dad a visit in the suburbs.

You pulled into the familiar driveway just past noon, a paper bag of croissants and fresh strawberries in your arms. His truck was in the garage, the front door already swinging open before you even rang the bell.

“Well, look who decided to grace me with her presence,” your dad called, stepping back to let you in.

“Be grateful,” you said, lifting the bag. “I brought baked goods.”

He smirked. “Then I take it all back. Come in.”

The house still smelled the same. A mix of old wood, coffee, and that citrus cleaner he swore by. You dropped your keys and bag on the kitchen counter before plopping onto the couch.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out and your thumb instinctively danced over the screen.

Joel

How’s your day off, sweetheart?

You bit back a smile and typed quickly.

You

Relaxing. At my dad’s. You?

Joel

Just finished a job. Might swing by if you’re home later.

You

Please do. I’ll keep the couch warm.

“Alright, who’s got you grinnin’ like a teenager?”

You startled, looking up to find your dad standing with two mugs of coffee—one already halfway to you.

“What?” you said, probably too fast.

“That smile. That,” he gestured vaguely at your face, “stupid grin you get when someone texts you something sweet.”

You laughed, taking the coffee, hoping it masked the heat rushing to your cheeks. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, settling beside you. “You dating someone?”

You hesitated, forcing your face to neutral. “Sort of.”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Sort of?”

“It’s… something.”

“Anyone I know?”

Your stomach twisted just slightly. You sipped your coffee slowly and gave a small, measured shrug. “Doubt it.”

He didn’t press. Just nodded, eyes returning to the TV he’d left on. “Well, as long as they treat you right.”

Your phone buzzed again.

Joel

Missed you this week.

You smiled again, but this time you kept your face hidden behind your mug.

“Yeah,” you said softly, mostly to yourself. “He does.”

Friday came. It was raining lightly outside, the kind of soft Austin drizzle that made the city glow just a little more in the evening. From your kitchen window, the skyline blurred behind the droplets, streetlights flickering on one by one. You had your apartment lights dimmed low, a candle burning on the counter, and your favorite oversized tee on — the one Joel always teased you for but secretly liked seeing you in.

Joel was sitting at the small kitchen table, a glass of red wine in one hand, watching you move around like it was his favorite show on TV.

“You don’t have to just sit there, you know,” you called over your shoulder as you stirred the creamy garlic sauce on the stove.

“I offered to help,” he drawled, stretching out in the chair, legs wide, completely relaxed. “You told me to sit down and stay outta the way.”

“You offered after I already chopped the onions and started the sauce.”

Joel grinned. “Timing is everything, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, the sound of him calling you that — casual, warm, like it belonged — sending that stupid flutter straight to your chest. You checked the pan again and moved to grab the grated parmesan from the fridge. Behind you, Joel’s chair scraped softly against the floor.

He came up behind you, hands resting gently on your hips as he looked over your shoulder.

“Mmm,” he said, voice low and close, “smells good.”

You tried to ignore how your body leaned into his automatically, how your muscles just... let go when he touched you. “You say that every time I cook.”

“’Cause it’s true every time.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the side of his face. “You're not just saying that to get lucky later, are you?”

Joel chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “I don’t need to sweet-talk you for that, do I?”

You gasped, swatted at him with the wooden spoon, and he dodged it with a laugh.

“I’m trying to make dinner here!”

“You’re doin’ a damn fine job,” he said, backing off with hands raised, still smirking. “I’ll just go sit down and sip my wine like the good house guest I am.”

“You’re not a guest,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as you turned back to the stove. Not anymore. Not when his toothbrush was in your bathroom. Not when he knew where the tea towels went. Not when he fell asleep on your couch more often than not.

Joel heard you anyway.

“I’m not?” he asked, soft now.

You looked over your shoulder again, met his eyes.

You shook your head. “No. You’re... here. That’s different.”

Joel didn’t say anything at first. Just walked back to his chair, sat down slowly, and let out a quiet breath.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I guess I am.”

You plated the pasta in two bowls and brought them over to the table, the air between you buzzing gently with everything unspoken.

You were brushing your teeth when Joel stepped into the bathroom, already in the faded gray T-shirt and boxers he always brought when he stayed over. His hair was damp from a quick shower, curls still clinging to his forehead a little. He caught your eye in the mirror, then leaned down to kiss the top of your shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush.

The small bathroom was quiet except for the soft buzz of your electric toothbrushes and the occasional sound of water running. It should’ve felt cramped, but it didn’t. It felt normal. Like this was just another night, and this was just what you did — shared a sink, bumped elbows, rinsed side by side.

You finished first and stepped aside, wiping your face with a towel and watching him in the mirror. Joel caught you staring and smirked, foam still in his mouth.

“What?” he mumbled around his toothbrush.

You shrugged, smiling. “Nothing. You’re just…cute.”

He raised an eyebrow, spit, then rinsed. “Cute, huh?”

“You know what I mean.”

Eventually, you turned off the bathroom light and padded back into the bedroom. Joel pulled back the sheets while you turned off the lamp, and when you climbed into bed, he followed right after, the mattress dipping under his weight.

He laid on his side, arm draped across your waist like it belonged there. And maybe it did.

“Got any plans tomorrow?” he asked, voice low in the dark.

“Just errands. Grocery run. Might clean out the closet.”

“Need help?”

You smiled, eyes already heavy. “You offering?”

“If it means I get to stick around another night? Yeah.”

You rolled over to face him, your leg hooking lightly around his. “I want you to stay.”

Joel reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, thumb brushing your cheek. “Then I’ll stay.”

With that, you leaned forward and kissed him softly, then settled back into his chest, the warmth of his body already lulling you toward sleep. Outside, the rain still fell against the windows, steady and soft. Inside, everything was still.

And for the first time all week, you felt completely at peace.

Joel squinted down at his phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard as dust from the job site clung to his jeans. The mid-day sun beat down on the back of his neck, and the air smelled like hot concrete and sweat. Still, the small smile tugging at his mouth made the heat more tolerable.

You

You better actually eat and not just coffee and beef jerky again

He chuckled.

Joel

Real food. I swear. Miss you.

He hit send, then slipped the phone into his pocket just as Tommy called out from a few feet away.

“Joel! Lunch or what? Before Carl eats everything again.?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Comin’, smartass.”

Joel grabbed his thermos and fell in step with his brother, heading toward the shaded area where the rest of the crew had gathered around a folding table someone had dragged out. A few of the guys were already halfway through their sandwiches, talking and laughing over the hum of a portable fan.

“…and I swear to God, she couldn’t have been more than twenty-two,” Mark said, shaking his head at Miguel, who was mid-bite into a burrito.

Miguel shrugged, unbothered. “She came up to me. What was I supposed to do, say no?”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, maybe when you realized she looked like she just aged outta college orientation.”

Joel chuckled, biting into his sandwich, trying to stay out of it. But the topic lingered.

“You serious though?” Mark asked. “She wasn’t too young for you?”

“She could legally drink. That’s good enough for me,” Miguel said, grinning wide. “Age is just a number, man.”

Joel kept chewing, slower now.

That phrase — age is just a number — bounced around in his head, souring a little.

He wasn’t like Miguel. Wasn’t at bars chasing women who looked like they might card him for fun. But still, the words got under his skin, poking at that quiet part of him that knew if any of them found out about you — your age, your history with Sarah, with him — they’d talk. They’d laugh. Maybe worse.

You were in your mid-twenties, college degree, a good job downtown, a whole future unspooling in front of you like a straight road. Meanwhile, Joel was here, knees sore from years of construction, grease still under his nails, soon turning 50, pretending that waking up in your bed didn’t feel like the best and worst decision he made every week.

He took another bite of his sandwich and kept his eyes on the wrapper.

Tommy elbowed him. “You good?”

Joel blinked. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Old man like you? Must be tough,” Tommy teased, but his voice was easy, familiar.

Joel smirked. “Watch it. I still bench more than you.”

The others laughed and kept going, arguing over who bought lunch last week, the moment passing.

But Joel stayed a little quiet, his mind somewhere else — somewhere warmer.

And if none of them knew about it — if this stayed his little secret — maybe that was the only way it could work.

You knocked harder than you meant to.

Joel’s porch light flickered on as you stepped back, arms crossed tightly over your chest. It had been days — days — of distant texts, half-hearted responses, and Joel always finding some excuse not to come over. "Long day," "Tommy needed help," "Gonna crash early." You tried to give him space. But tonight? You couldn’t take the quiet anymore.

The door opened.

Joel stood there in a worn flannel and jeans, his hair a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. His eyes widened when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, quiet. Like he hadn’t been avoiding you for nearly a week.

“Can I come in?”

He hesitated, then stepped aside, letting you pass into the familiar warmth of his living room. The TV was on, muted, casting soft blue light over the furniture. You turned to face him, arms still crossed.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on, or should I guess?”

Joel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, already avoiding your eyes. “Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on.”

“Bullshit.” Your voice was sharper than usual, but you didn’t care. “You’ve been distant. You’ve barely looked me in the eye since last weekend. I’m not stupid, Joel.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve just been... thinkin’. That’s all.”

You turned to face him fully, heart pounding. “About what?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He moved past you and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard like he could hide in the mundane routine of pouring himself some water.

You followed. “Joel.”

He glanced up. And there it was — the thing he hadn’t said. Sitting right behind his eyes.

“I’m startin’ to wonder if this is fair,” he muttered.

You blinked. “Fair? What does that mean?”

He looked at you, jaw tight. “You’re in your twenties, sweetheart. You’ve got a whole life ahead of you. People to meet. Shit to figure out. And I’m... me. I’ve got a grown kid, a busted back, and more regrets than I can count. Your dad—he’s my best friend. If he knew... if Sarah knew—”

“You think I haven’t thought about all that?” you said sharply, stepping closer. “You think I don’t know how it looks from the outside?”

“I just don’t wanna be somethin’ you regret later,” he said quietly.

That stopped you. You stared at him, heart clenched tight.

“Joel... I don’t regret you. Not for a second. And I’m not gonna wake up one day and pretend this never happened, because it means something to me.”

He looked down, hands braced on the counter, fingers curled white-knuckled over the edge. You moved to stand in front of him, placing your hands gently over his.

“You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. That’s not your job. You’re not protecting me by shutting me out — you’re just hurting both of us.”

Joel’s shoulders dropped a little. “I know.”

“Then stop pulling away,” you said, softer now. “If you need to talk, talk. But don’t make me wonder if I did something wrong just because you’re scared.”

He finally met your eyes, something broken and relieved swimming behind them. His hand turned, fingers weaving through yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want you. God knows that ain’t the truth.”

You stepped in closer, resting your forehead against his chest. “Then let me stay. Let’s just be together. No overthinking. No self-sabotage.”

He exhaled, arms wrapping around you, grounding you both.

“Alright,” he whispered into your hair. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll try.”

You and Joel were still holding each other when footsteps padded in across the hardwood stairs, light and casual.

Both your heads turned at the same time, and Joel froze.

“Hey, Dad? Have you seen my charger—”

Sarah’s voice cut off the second she stepped around the corner and saw the two of you.

Joel stiffened, arms still around your waist. You stepped back quickly, heart stopping somewhere between your chest and your throat.

Sarah blinked. Then blinked again.

You could see the calculation happening in real time — eyes darting between you, Joel, the way your hands had just been touching.

“Oh.”

Her voice was flat. A beat passed.

Then, with a slow raise of her eyebrows: “Okay. Um. Did not expect that.”

“Sarah,” Joel started, voice strained, already reaching for some version of damage control.

“No, no, I mean—it’s fine,” she said, raising both hands like she needed to physically push back the tension in the room. “I just—wow, okay. Needed a second to… process.”

You felt your cheeks burning. “Sarah, I’m so sorry—”

“Were you—have you guys been…?” she motioned vaguely between the two of you, face scrunched in disbelief. “This has been happening? For how long?”

Joel cleared his throat. “A while.”

Sarah stared at him. Then you. Then looked vaguely toward the ceiling like she was trying to recalibrate her entire worldview.

“Well… that explains why you’ve been suspiciously unavailable on the weekends,” she muttered. “I just thought you were dating someone lowkey. Not, like, your dad’s best friend.”

Joel winced. “You okay?”

“I mean, I’m not traumatized or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sarah said dryly. “But yeah. Bit of a jump scare, not gonna lie.”

You tried to smile, a little sheepish. “We weren’t hiding it from you. We just… weren’t ready.”

“No, I get it. If I were you, I’d be terrified of telling me too,” Sarah deadpanned, then gave you a teasing smirk. “But hey. At least it’s not, like, Mr. Carter from next door. That guy smells like cat food.”

You laughed — a little shocked, a little relieved — and Joel let out a quiet breath.

“Look,” Sarah continued, dropping her backpack onto the couch, “I love you both. And you’re grown adults, so… do what makes you happy. Just, y’know, please keep the PDA to a minimum when I’m in the house.”

Joel nodded slowly. “Deal.”

Sarah turned toward the kitchen like nothing happened. “Now, where the hell is that charger…”

Joel looked at you as the tension finally eased from his shoulders, eyes wide with disbelief.

“That went… better than expected,” you whispered.

“She’s too smart for her own good,” he murmured back, dazed.

You smiled and nudged his arm. “Wonder where she gets it from.”

You were just slipping your shoes back on near the door when Sarah appeared in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, a charger cable now slung around her wrist.

“Hey,” she said casually, but her tone held something heavier beneath it. “Can I talk to you for a sec? Without, uh… my dad hovering?”

You straightened, already nervous but nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

Joel, who was watching from the living room with a brow raised, started to get up, but Sarah waved him off. “Relax, it’s not an interrogation.”

He grunted and sank back into the couch, though his eyes lingered as the two of you stepped out onto the porch.

The evening air was cool, humming with the sound of crickets and faraway tires against pavement. You leaned against the porch railing, arms folded. Sarah stood across from you, looking thoughtful.

“So,” she started, glancing at you, “you and my dad.”

You offered a small smile. “Yeah.”

“How long has this been going on?”

You hesitated. “About 10 months.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You’ve been together that long?”

You nodded. “It wasn’t supposed to happen, Sarah. I didn’t plan it. He didn’t either. We just… found each other again, I guess.”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, chewing on that. Then, to your surprise, she sighed and sat on the porch step.

“I mean… I always thought something was up,” she admitted. “The way he smiled if you’re mentioned, or how he got all weirdly cleaned up on weekends. I just didn’t think this was it.”

You laughed softly, sinking down beside her.

She looked at you, more serious now. “I’m not mad. It’s weird, yeah. But I’m not mad. I’ve known you forever. You used to make me mac and cheese and help me sneak extra popsicles when Dad said no.”

You smiled, a little nostalgic. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“But this,” she said, motioning between you, “it’s real, right? You’re not… messing with him?”

The question wasn’t cruel — it was protective. Earnest. And entirely fair.

“I’m not,” you said softly. “I love him. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t.”

Sarah stared at you for a beat, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

You exhaled. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll probably still have an existential crisis about it later,” she teased, “but if it makes him happy—and you’re being real about it—I can deal.”

You bumped her shoulder lightly. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

“Obviously.” She stood and gave you a smirk. “But if I ever hear anything through that paper-thin wall when I come home unexpectedly—”

“Sarah.”

“Just saying,” she called over her shoulder, heading back inside, “my tuition includes the right to emotional peace.”

You grinned, watching her go, your chest lighter than it had been in days. Joel met your eyes through the window from where he sat inside, and you gave him a small, reassuring nod.

Somehow, the secret didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

In the months that followed, their lives moved forward — quietly, carefully — just like before. But now, it carried a different weight. A steady, unspoken hum beneath the surface.

You and Joel didn’t announce anything. There was no dramatic reveal, no sudden shift in how the world saw you. That wasn’t your pace — and it definitely wasn’t his. Instead, you built your relationship in the spaces between, tucked away in the kind of moments no one else paid attention to.

If you visited him in the suburbs, you’d still park a few blocks down like you always had, strolling up the sidewalk as if you were just dropping by to say hello to Sarah, or to return a borrowed dish. You’d knock twice out of habit, even though you knew he was waiting just beyond the door. And Joel would answer with that half-smile, already stepping aside to let you in, hand brushing against your back in the brief moment of privacy the hallway offered.

Sometimes he’d cook for you, just something simple — eggs, grilled cheese, leftovers he claimed were “better the second time anyway.” And sometimes you’d just sit together on the couch, your legs tossed over his lap, the TV low and mostly ignored. Sarah wouldn’t be home those nights — maybe at a sleepover, a football game, a late movie with friends — and the house would feel quieter. Yours.

When the roles reversed, and Joel made the trip to your downtown apartment, it was always late. He’d wait until Sarah was staying over at her best friend’s house, send you a text like you still up? and show up twenty minutes later with a bag of takeout or a six-pack from that little gas station he liked.

He never stayed over unless he was sure Sarah wouldn’t be home the next morning. If she would, he'd never stay the night, and you were okay with that.

When the world was watching — when your dad invited Joel over for Sunday barbecue, or when the three of you found yourselves at the same neighborhood party — it was all easy smiles and normal chatter. The same Joel. The same you. Just two familiar faces in a crowd that never looked twice.

Your dad remained entirely unsuspecting. Maybe he just trusted you both too much to imagine it. Maybe the idea was so out of left field it never even crossed his mind. Either way, it gave you a strange kind of comfort… and a lingering guilt.

That conversation — telling him — still sat somewhere in the distance, a thing you circled around quietly. Joel would mention it sometimes, in the quietest part of the night. “We’ll have to tell him eventually.” he’d murmur into your hair, thumb brushing your side. You’d nod, half-asleep, neither of you pushing further.

And Sarah — well, she was still the only one who knew. Her knowing looks hadn’t faded. Sometimes she’d shoot Joel a sideways glance when he casually mentioned you in conversation, or nudge your foot under the table. But she kept it to herself. Always respectful. Always steady. She hadn’t made it weird — if anything, she’d helped it feel more real. Like you weren’t just imagining this little world you’d built together.

Your relationship with Joel was something quiet. Sacred. Protected not out of shame, but out of a shared knowing — a trust that it was too precious to rush, too personal to hand over to the noise of everyone else’s opinions.

It wasn’t traditional. It wasn’t easy.

But it was yours.

And in every hidden smile, every late night drive, every look across the room when no one else was watching — you knew, without question, that it was worth it.

taglist: @started-with-f-ends-with-uck @fangirlcentral1 @whimsicalangel111 @saturnyo

#kar's fics ☆#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal

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unitetheloraxfandom · 7 months ago

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OFFICIAL SIGN-UP POST: Thneedmas Exchange 2024!

Read fully before liking/reblogging!

This event is being run by @miru667

AS A HEADS UP, WE’RE LOOKING FOR MAKEUP GIFT VOLUNTEERS THIS YEAR!

Makeup gift volunteers fill in when a participant is unable to get a gift from their assigned partner; these things happen sometimes! If you’d like to volunteer for this role, please message @miru667. Thanks again!

This blog itself is meant to organize the Lorax fandom’s various “Secret Santa” styled events, and to share the works created by our participants once each exchange has ended. Participants do not have to follow, but if you’d like to keep tabs, feel free to follow our tag: #unitetheloraxfandom

Here are the rules!

1) To sign up you must LIKE AND REBLOG the official post for the current exchange. That would be this one! We will try to message people once they’ve been added to the participants list, so look out for that!

2) We will be contacting you via Tumblr Direct Messaging (DM) to first confirm your participation, and then later to send you the name of your buddy. But if you don't have DMs on, we will be sending it to your tumblr inbox. Make sure you have your inbox open please! You don’t need to have anon on. If we can’t contact you, you will be taken OFF of the list without warning.

3) If you change your URL after signing up, you MUST tell us. If you will be unavailable to answer DMs for more than 3 days, PLEASE tell us as well.

4) Sign-up starts TODAY (December 1st) and will be CLOSED on December 7th 23:59 EST. You MUST reply to our DM to confirm your participation by December 8th, 6:00am EST, or else you will be removed from the participants list.

5) On December 8th, you will be messaged the name of your secret buddy. They must be unaware that you are their Thneedmas Exchange partner until after the period of posting (December 23rd - January 5th) or longer depending on issues with post limit.

6) If you sign up after the cutoff date, your url will be put on a waiting list for the next exchange. There will be no room for late sign-ups.

7) Gifts can be fanart, fanfiction, fan video, etc. If you have any other ideas for your gift, feel free to get creative. Also, please try to keep them related to The Lorax unless you know your buddy would appreciate something non-Lorax related more (like if they have an OC, for example). If your gift is very obviously low-effort/insincere/trolling/AI, you will be banned from future gift exchanges.

8) If you have had drama in the past with another tumblr user, please let us know ahead of time so we can make certain that neither of you are assigned to each other.

9) Buddies will be assigned by the mods, and you will be buddied up randomly. If you don’t receive a buddy after the sign-up period is over, then MESSAGE US IMMEDIATELY! DON’T WAIT UNTIL THE DAY BEFORE THE EXCHANGE OR THE LAST DAY OF THE EXCHANGE OR 2 DAYS AFTER THE EXCHANGE.

10) If you have not received your gift in time, you MAY make a request for a makeup one created by one of the mods or makeup gift volunteers; this offer is only valid if you’ve come through with your own partner’s gift, it’s only fair.

Thank you for reading!

#unitetheloraxfandom #modannouncements #thneedmas #truffulaseedlings #onceler #the lorax #it's dec 1st in over half the world now so yippee

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imagining-in-the-margins · 8 months ago

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CM Wrong Recipient Writing Challenge 🎁

The following are prompts including a Wrong/Mistaken Recipient! Reader or OC, Gen/Platonic, AND Character/Character fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

SFW Prompts 🙈

The BAU arrests the wrong person

The flower delivery guy really messes things up

Character grabs the wrong person to kiss at NYE

Character leaves a voicemail for the wrong person

Character grabs the wrong person’s hand in public

Character receives an awkward text from an unknown number (or one they haven’t spoken to in a long time)

Character throws a snowball at their friend… but misses (and hits their crush/an attractive stranger instead)

Talking to different people on multiple phone lines can get really confusing

Somehow Character got on someone's super silly Christmas Card mailing list

There’s a mixup of notebooks and Character finds writings/drawings... of them

Character receives a package they weren't expecting and finds an even more unexpected item inside

The team recounts all the times Penelope said something inappropriate to the wrong person on the phone

Character has been sending messages to their loved one after they passed (they never expected a response)

Character pulls a prank against a fun-loving coworker, but their significantly less playful coworker triggers it

Character leaves an anonymous letter confessing their love, but the recipient insists it can’t be for them

Character enlists Penelope’s help in hacking into someone’s device to delete an unintended message

Anything else you can think of!

Keep Reading for more Prompts and the Challenge Rules!

Dialogue Prompts 🙉

“Oh, God. Wrong house.”

“New phone, who’s this?”

“So… who is (intended recipient name)?”

“Baby, I can be whoever you want me to be.”

“Any chance we can pretend you didn’t see that?”

“No matter what you do, do NOT open that.” “Too late.”

“I’m not complaining, but I don’t think that was for me.”

“What’s the point of the unsend button if it tells them that I unsent something?!”

“This is definitely the wrong number but, seriously, did you think that line would work?”

“I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is a—!”

NSFW Prompts 🙊

Character is a stripper at the wrong party

Character receives scandalous selfies from a coworker

Characters buy books together but take the wrong ones home (at least one of them is erotica)

Character wanted to gift a friend a sex toy as a joke and they used the same wrapping paper for their crush’s gift

Character sends their friend a detailed review of their recent sexual encounter… and accidentally sends it to the person they’re reviewing

There’s confusion and two BAU members end up with the same hotel room (Character walks in to find their coworker completely nude)

Character is waiting for an unsub in a confessional booth (the unsub doesn't show, but someone else confesses unholy thoughts)

Rules

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

Have fun!

Happy Writing!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matthew simmons

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satxnsupreme666 · 9 months ago

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I almost lost you: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader/ Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange

Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.

This is a romantic!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader and Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

Words: 6k+

Warnings: Slight angst, minor mentions of blood and reader getting hurt, but happy ending (I love happy endings btw)

Author´s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange @eliscannotdance (If someone else wants to be added to the Taglist you can send me a message or an ask, it´s alright)

Wanda was around you all the time, she never left your side, there wasn’t a moment when you were alone, it was almost as if Wanda didn’t want Agnes or anyone else to get close to you, whenever you went, no matter where, Wanda was there by your side, grabbing your hand or holding you closer to her, she was all the time with you and this bothered Agnes a lot.

It was even weird to see you alone for more than one minute, Wanda was always behind you, making sure no one got near you, not even Dottie and she found that really amusing.

However when it came to Wanda not letting her get near you was annoying, Agnes just wanted to talk to you and hold your hand, she didn’t expect to fall for you so quickly, but she couldn’t help it, you were so sweet, your smile could brighten any room and she loved how you used to move your hands when you talked about something you loved.

The first time Agnes met you had been one week after she arrived to Westview you had left Wanda´s house and she was surprised when she saw you, Agnes smiled at the memory.

“Hiya Honey” You heard someone greeting you so you turned yourself to look at the owner of the voice, and behind you was a woman with a bike and her long dark-brown hair was bright, you smiled back at her.

“Hi” You said feeling a little shy

“I´m Agnes darling, lovely to meet you” She said with a big smile and you blushed when she winked at you

“My name´s y/n”

“So, you´re my neighbor too, right? I saw you coming out from Wanda´s house darling, I didn’t know you lived with her” Her tone was cheerful and her happy mood was contagious

“Oh yes I live there with Wanda, have you met her already?” You asked her with a curious tone

“Of course, darling I met her a week ago, she even made a performance at the talent show days ago” You frowned, a week? That couldn’t be possible right? Maybe Wanda had changed the memories of the residents here to make them believe it had already passed a week, you couldn’t just believe it, or could it be true? Of course, Wanda told you everything when you woke up, she didn’t like hiding things from you and you felt happy because she didn’t erase your memories.

Agnes found really strange that she hadn’t seen you since she arrived and she had already entered Wanda´s house many times all this week and this was the first time she saw you, what else was Wanda hiding?

“Oh well that´s great, she´s really cool” You said trying to recall the past days, it was weird you felt like you had arrived here yesterday, you tried to brushed it off, it was really not important.

“Yes, darling she´s really cool” She squinted her eyes a little, as if she was analyzing you carefully

“So, tell me honey, where are you going to?”

“I was going to see the town, I just woke up… from a long nap” You were unsure of what you were saying, you didn’t see the frown on Agnes face, this was interesting for her.

“Well, in that case I can go with you to show you the town, would you like that sweetheart?” You thought about it for a minute, she looked like a good person, so you agreed, it would be alright, and you couldn’t deny, this woman was really charming and pretty.

“I would like that” With a big smile on your face you looked at her again, you were sure you could finally be happy in this town.

“Let me put this on my garden, then we can leave doll” Doll, you said the pet name in your head, no one had called you so many pet names like her, and you liked it, you felt your chest getting warm, it was nice.

She took her bike and she placed it inside her garden and then she winked at you again, of course you laughed, she was really sweet.

“Come on dear, let´s go” Agnes linked her arm with yours and she pulled you closer to her, she brushed your hand with her fingers and you blushed furiously, the only person you felt comfortable being so close to was Wanda but Agnes made you feel just as comfortable if not more. You could smell her perfume it was a mix of vanilla and something else you couldn’t put your finger on, her perfume was really sweet and you found yourself wanting more, would she always spread her perfume all over herself when she got out of her house? Or maybe in the morning she spread it once and the essence just stayed over her all day?

“So darling, how did you arrive here?” You hear her soft voice asking you and you turned your head to have a full view of her features, you felt as if her blue eyes pierced your soul, she looked at you as if she was analyzing your expression, and you tilted you head a little to the other side thinking on what to answer, Agnes looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer, she was a very patient woman, and she could wait all the time for you to answer.

“If I recall correctly” You brought your left hand to your mouth, it was something you used to do whenever you tried to focus on something, it was an unconscious thing you did.

“I arrived here with Wanda, she drove us from some offices in her car and the ride was pretty long, I just remember falling asleep and when I woke up I was in my bed” Agnes arched her eyebrow, feeling confused because of your answer, nodding her head she bit her lip, she needed more information to understand what was going on with you.

“That´s alright dear, when you wake up from really long nap, you can feel lost, it has happened to me, especially after a long night of partying” You laughed at the movements she made with her hands as if she was dancing and she moved her shoulder to brush it against yours.

You felt so carefree with her, she made you feel alive, it was a feeling you didn’t get to have, years ago with Wanda you could only pass your nights at the compound watching a movie or cooking, but still you felt trapped, but here with Agnes, you felt that you could do anything and you wouldn’t be judged.

“Oh, hi Dottie, I love your roses!” Looking at the person whom Agnes was talking to, you saw a woman with blonde hair working in her garden.

“Thank you, Agnes,” The woman, Dottie, said back and when Agnes turned her face to look at you, she rolled her eyes and she had a funny expression on her face, she made you giggle, she was really something else.

After ten minutes you finally arrived at what it looked it was the center of the town, there were children playing with each other and some adults were sitting in the lawn, some of them were having picnics with their children and you smiled, it was a really different view from what you had seen in the last years, your memory wandered back for seconds to your old life, you felt yourself getting a little sad, outside of all these amazing things you were enjoying, you didn’t know how everything was. Agnes noticed the change in your mood, she could sense your sadness and it was as if she felt a little of what you were feeling, Agnes wanted to drag your attention from whatever you were thinking, but she didn’t know where the urges to see you smile again came from.

“Hey sweety, do you like Ice cream?” Hearing her talking to you was enough to forget about the negative thoughts, and you felt grateful for that.

“Yes, I like Ice cream, do you like it?” Seeing you smile again made her feel better, she was not sure why, maybe it was because you had a really pretty smile.

“I love it doll, what about if we go to that ice cream shop, we can get to know each other better” Agnes took your hand and dragged you to the shop, you felt her soft touch in your hand and you felt you face heating, this woman made you blush a lot. Also, you really liked the way she grabbed your hand; she did it as gentle as possible as if you were about to break.

When you entered you decided you wanted a milkshake instead of just Ice cream, and Agnes was happy to order for you, after you told her your favorite flavor, she went to tell the girl attending what the two of you wanted and you just waited for Agnes to return in one of the booths there.

You were distracted by the surroundings, everything was really pretty and even though you found strange that some places where exactly as you had imagined sometimes, everything was beautiful, you remembered one day that you were discussing all the things you would love to visit with Wanda, and you remembered telling her about a place like this.

“A penny for your thoughts sweetheart?” She asked you while sitting herself next to you, you felt her leg brushing yours and you tried to hide your blush by resting your chin on your hand.

Agnes looked at you thoroughly, she knew you were hiding something, and she wanted to know what it was, but this was different, she wanted to know Wanda´s secret because of her immense powers, but with you it was different, she felt the necessity to know what was affecting you, she wanted to help you, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

“Wanda used to rent movies and buy ice cream for movie nights” You muttered and if Agnes hadn’t been paying attention, she wouldn’t have heard you.

The waitress came with your orders and placed them in front of you, you said to her a barely audible thank you and you took a sip of your milkshake, it was really good, you loved it.

“We used to watch our favorite series; she loves old sitcoms you know? and to be honest I kind of like them too” Agatha was looking your features and how you were playing with the straw, with your free hand you started to play with some strands of your hair, she could say you were talking more to yourself than to her, you were really in deep thought.

“I really liked when we passed time together, she has always been kind towards me but I feel something has changed, I´m not sure if things could go back as how they were” You were not sure what had changed but you felt something off.

Agnes felt bad for you, even if she didn’t know your entire story she felt empathetic, your pretty features looked sad again, and even if she wanted to do something, she didn’t know what to do, so she put her hand on your shoulder to give it a squeeze, unconsciously you leant your head into her hand.

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice that made you sat straight

“Wanda?” You smiled, what was she doing here? she was supposed to be at home, but here she was, in front of Agnes and you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked and you noticed how Agnes didn’t take her hand off your shoulder

“I was worried, I thought you would come home earlier, you´re never outside more than just one hour” You could see her a little tense, you didn’t understand what was the problem

Agnes found the scene quite weird, why had Wanda come to look for you? She wasn’t your girlfriend to be looking for you just because you hadn’t arrived home yet, or were you?

“Hey Wanda sweetheart, you do not have to worry I took good care of her, right honey?” You saw Wanda relaxing a bit, it looked like Wanda trusted Agnes

“Agnes thank you seriously, I thought she had got lost”

You played with the straw in your milkshake until you decided to just drink it, you didn’t notice Agnes was staring at you. you were so sweet but the sadness in your eyes was the thing that she could see the most.

“Is that good?” Wanda had asked you with a grin on her face, she really liked that you were enjoying yourself, she had created a lot of things according to what she had seen inside your mind.

“Yes, is really good, it reminds me of the same milkshake you bought for me back in-

“New York?” Wanda finished your sentence and you smiled back at her.

“Remember that cafeteria we saw in the pictures of the souvenirs in Germany?” Agnes saw Wanda getting closer to you

“Yes! The one with the retro booths and the tables, even the lights were some kind of retro decorations, I loved it, wait” You gave a quick glance to the ice cream shop, it was exactly as you remembered the cafeteria in the pictures, Wanda saw your excitement and she knew you had discovered she had created this place for you.

Agnes seemed to notice that as well, she had put the pieces together, so Wanda hadn’t just created this place just for her, she had created this for you as well, and what she understood, was that Wanda had even decorated the place according to what you liked, for her Wanda had acted out of love, giving you all these things, she understood how much Wanda loved you, but in what sense? She wanted to know, but this time she didn’t want to act as the nosy neighbor, she really wanted to know what was going on with you two, but she didn’t dare to ask you straightforward.

“Did you have a good time with Agnes “Wanda suddenly asked, you didn’t understand why she asked you that, and Agnes frowned, why would she ask that in front of her?

“Oh yes, totally, she is really funny, I loved being here with her” You turned your head to smile at Agnes and she winked at you and this time Agnes brought her hand to brush a strand off your hair, she couldn’t help herself you looked so cute when you blushed, Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised because of what Agnes had done and of course Agnes saw her expression.

“Hey Agnes you wouldn’t mind if I take y/n home?” You hastily looked at Wanda and of course Wanda saw your confused expression but decided to ignore your expression.

Agnes squinted her eyes, why would Wanda wanted to take y/n back to their house? You had told her you liked being here with her, but she decided she could let you go this time; you were not going anywhere so she would have the time to speak to you another day.

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind, we can meet up another day, right sweetheart?”

But you didn’t meet up with her again, that happened two weeks ago and since that day Wanda never left your side again, she remembered the day where she bumped into you “by accident” at the supermarket, she felt happy that day because you talked with her for about ten minutes.

“Agnes, what a surprise, are you here to buy some chocolate too?” You asked her biting your lower lip, what a great coincidence.

Of course it hadn’t been any type of coincidence, she had just followed Wanda and you, but she wasn’t going to let you know that, she was happy that you weren’t with Wanda for at least a couple of minutes.

“Oh no sweetheart, I came here to buy this” She pointed to a single bottle of wine that she was holding in her hand

“That’s great, I’m still thinking which type of chocolate I should choose, I really like that one” You pointed at a white chocolate bar, “But I also like that one too” You said while you took a normal chocolate bar, it was so hard to decide, Agnes could watch you all the time, she could wait for you until you decided, she loved watching your expressions.

“Why not both?” She asked you while looking at the chocolates

Agnes was about to say something else but then Wanda came.

“Have you decided yet which one you want?” Wanda asked coming closer to you, she put her hand on your shoulder and that didn’t pass unnoticed to Agnes.

Seriously why Wanda kept interrupting you? As far as she knew Wanda was with Vision, then why didn´t she let you have a proper conversation with her?

You didn’t understand why Wanda really didn’t want you to talk to Agnes, she knew you liked her a lot.

For her part, Wanda was surprised, how was possible that you felt so comfortable with someone you had met just some weeks ago? She didn’t want you to get attached to someone who wasn’t even real at all, she didn’t want you to be heartbroken, she really hoped no one would ever come here to bother you or her, and she believed her magic was strong enough in order not to let anyone from outside enter without her knowing, but what if, just what if someone else broke into Westview and released all the inhabitants? She couldn’t even stand the thought of Agnes leaving the town and in consequence of that you would be left heartbroken, if that happen, she knew it would be her fault, she just didn’t want you to end up hurt, it would be better if you didn’t get too close to her.

Wanda thought Agnes was under her mind control and she thought Agnes was acting this way towards you because when she created the town she also was thinking that you could finally find someone who would love you and appreciate you, someone whom you could be happy with, but now that she thought about it carefully, if all of this didn’t work out, she didn’t want you to feel hurt because of her, but she couldn’t tell you to stop seeing Agnes, so she had to think of something else to do.

You had already passed through a lot of bad things, she didn’t want to add a heartbreak, years ago Wanda had rescued you from a Hydra base, they had experimented on you and when she looked at you Wanda instantly felt a connection with you, she could see herself in you, alone and with no one to look after her, since that day she decided she would be the one to help you recover, you would never be alone again, she was the closest thing to family, Wanda promised herself to look after you.

To you, Wanda was like a mom, she helped you understand your powers, she taught you how to use them but also, she taught you to trust again, with her help little by little you started to come out of your shell, she was happy that she could help you and of course she saw you as if you were her own daughter, she missed Pietro and she would always miss him, but with you by her side, she thought she could keep going, Wanda just wanted to protect you.

Agnes didn’t know any of this so her only theory was that you and Wanda were secretly dating, she felt hurt of course, Agnes wanted to have something with you but she thought that maybe you didn’t see her as just the friendly nosy neighbor, which to be honest she didn’t even like the role, at this point she wasn’t even interested in Wanda´s magic anymore, she could have left town but she decided to stay for you, but you didn’t even looked for her, she was conflicted, she had thought you had feelings for her, but looking at you here in the park with Wanda´s hand on your back, she realized you weren’t interested in her, so she stopped looking for you, she stopped visiting you at your house to give you little presents, she just focused her mind into getting to understand Wanda´s magic, after that she would just leave Westview.

You notice how Agnes started to ignore you, and you felt hurt, you felt heartbroken, what had happened? You didn’t understand, you thought things were going great between you and Agnes, you were aware that you didn’t talk a lot, but when you did, you felt happy with her and you thought she was happy too, sometimes when you wanted to go look for Agnes, something stopped you from going to look for her, like the time you were at the town center and you saw Agnes leaving the park, you wanted to go after her to greet her, but out of nowhere a bunch of people started to work on the street, you couldn’t leave the place because the men told you, no one was allowed to pass.

Or like that time when you were at the bookstore with Wanda and you saw Agnes walking down the street, you quickly went to the door to reach her but when you grabbed the doorknob you noticed it was stuck, you couldn’t open the door, even two teenagers that were hanging around the bookstore tried to open the door but they couldn’t, when you looked through the window to see if Agnes was still there, you didn’t see her and you pouted, it was as if something was preventing you to talk to her, it was really frustrating.

But now it was as if Agnes acted as if you didn’t exist, when she walked past your house and you were in the garden, she didn’t greet you anymore.

You were heartbroken, you didn’t know what to do, and you were afraid that if you tried to talk to her, she would just ignore you.

Wanda of course noticed the change in your mood, she felt guilty because she had caused this, and now she didn’t know how to fix it, Wanda hated to see you so sad, should she talk to Agnes? Or tell you the truth?

Wanda tried to think of what to do but at the same time she was dealing with the soldiers outside that were trying to enter Westview, she hadn’t told you any of this because she didn’t want you to add more things to your problems, she would have to deal with SWORD first. She had been trying to just ignore them but they kept sending the damned drones, and it was a matter of time for you to notice that there was something wrong.

It was late at night and you and Wanda were in your garden, you were watching the stars, how could this be something Wanda had created, it was really beautiful and even though you felt sad because of Agnes at the same time you felt at home, Wanda had told you that you would finally would have a place to call home.

The memory came to your mind and you smiled

“Listen, we will go home, alright? We will finally have a place to call home, but first I need you to go somewhere with me, and I need you to stay with me all the time alright?” You nodded at her and she dropped a kiss to your hair, she hugged you and you just leant into her, you trusted her with your heart.

“You won´t have to worry again, we will be a family” When she told you that she brought her hand to stroke your hair but when her fingers brushed your temple, you suddenly felt sleepy and you just fell asleep.

You felt tears at the corner of your eyes, Wanda had made sure to create all of this for you and for her, but still you felt something was missing, and that thing was Agnes, you really missed her a lot, she made you laugh, you felt safe with her and now she just ignored you.

You heard a sound as if something was coming towards you and when you looked in front of you, you saw there was a little airplane in the air, Wanda noticed it too and you saw her hands glowing red, you were not sure what was happening but you sensed that she was angry, really angry and with a movement of her hand the little airplane fell to the ground with a thud, the sound made you jump a little, what had just happened?

“I need you to stay here” Wanda´s voice was harsh, she was really angry but you didn’t know why

She took the airplane with one hand and lifted herself from the ground, leaving you there in the middle of the street, however you didn’t listen to her and followed her, since you had arrived here Wanda hadn’t used her ability to fly, so this was important, lucky for you, you could fly too, so you followed her from a good distance.

You saw her landing on Ellis avenue, she had told you not to come here many times, so it was weird, so you landed a few meters away from her

Wanda kept walking but you didn’t understand where she was going until you saw her passing through something, it was a magical field, you didn’t even know there was a field around town; Wanda easily passed through it and of course you followed her.

Now you were really close to the magical field and being this close was enough for you to see the small lines that looked like the screen of an old tv you were afraid because you didn’t know what was outside Westview, what had angered Wanda so much?

Taking a deep breath, you built the courage to pass through the field, you closed your eyes and when you were sure you were not inside Westview anymore you opened your eyes again.

You were not expecting hundreds of soldiers to be looking at you, it had been a complete mistake to walk through the magical field after all.

“I told you to stay inside!” Wanda´s accent was thicker and you could tell she was beyond pissed, so you just bit your lip, you could deal with her later.

“y/n?” Someone said your name and you lifted your head to see a woman with glasses, you had seen her before but you were not sure where.

“So, your little protégé has been here with you all this time? Do you know how many times we have been looking for you? Did you help her to trap all these people here?” This time it was an old man who held a smirk on his face

“Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this, leave her out of this, you came for me, not for her” The man laughed and he moved his hand it was a sign for all the soldiers to point their guns at you, now you were afraid, this had been a huge mistake.

Wanda used her powers to make them point their guns towards the man

“Wanda no! He´s just trying to provoke you, you´re not the villain” A woman walked towards Wanda a little, she was brave enough to do that, you were impressed.

You heard a sound, it was the sound of someone chambering a gun, you hastily looked where was the sound coming from and when you saw a soldier from far away pointing his gun to Wanda ready to pull the trigger you instantly used your powers, blue glowing from your eyes and hands, you lifted him In the air and threw him into some trees, the sudden sound distracted Wanda and she looked at you but that was enough for the man to grab the gun of the nearest soldier and he pulled the trigger, the bullet was going to hit Wanda right In her chest, you used your powers to push her to the ground and luckily the bullet didn’t hit her but this time you didn’t see him pointing at you, he pulled the trigger and you felt a sharp pain in your chest, everything happened so fast, the pain was unbearable, you felt like you were about to faint but Wanda grabbed you and with her free hand she threw the soldiers to the ground.

She lifted you in her arms and took you inside Westview again, she couldn’t believe you had just been hit by a bullet, she had wanted to kill the soldiers but she had to act quickly.

Agnes heard a lot of noise so she left her house and what she saw, horrified her, Wanda left you on the grass of your garden you had blood in your clothes and Wanda had blood in her hands.

“What happened?” Agnes was so worried, she couldn’t believe Wanda had let you get hurt, at the sound of her voice you lifted your head a little and you smiled, she had come to see you

“Agnes?” You said between coughs, the pain was awful.

Wanda tried to use her powers to take the bullet out of your body but it was hard, she couldn’t do it, her hands were shaking and she couldn’t think straight, you were bleeding and her powers were not working, she cursed and yelled, she couldn’t heal you.

Agnes was desperate she had to try something.

“Move Wanda” Wanda looked at her with a confused look what was she thinking? Wanda was about to say something but Agnes moved her hands and purple smoke emanated from her, the red haired woman was shocked, she was a witch?

Agnes knelt beside you and she covered your chest with her hands, Wanda saw her fingers moving and heard Agnes chanting something in a strange language, by this point Agnes was crying, tears were streaming from her eyes and Wanda was trying to process everything.

Suddenly the blood stopped coming from the wound you had and when Agnes moved her hands off you, there was no trace of any wound, any scar, you had fainted but at least you were alive.

“She´s alright now, she will need some time to rest” Wanda heard the woman and she nodded

“Who are you?”

“My name´s Agatha Harkness and we have a lot to talk, but not now” Wanda felt grateful, she had saved your life, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

When you woke up two days later, you gasped, what had happened? You weren’t dead?

“Be careful dear” It was Agnes´ voice and you quickly turned your head to look at her, she was sitting in a chair beside your bed.

“Am I dead?” Agnes laughed a little and she shook her head.

“What happened?” You remembered feeling a sharp pain and you touched your chest, there was nothing there

“You were shot sweetheart” Agnes ‘voice broke, she was trembling and you couldn’t understand why, Agnes brough her hands to your face and she stroked your cheek, you loved her touch

“I thought you were going to die, I almost lost you, I thought I would never see you again, I was scared, I couldn’t stand the thought of you dying, I love you so much” Your eyes widened and you felt genuine happiness, she loved you the same, you couldn’t stand it anymore and you kissed her.

You felt one of her hands hugging your waist, she had a strong grip around you and her free hand touched your face, she brushed her fingers softly against the skin of your cheek.

You broke the kiss and smiled at her, finally you felt you were complete, she was what you needed the most.

“I love you too Agnes” She bit her lip, she had to tell you the truth, she closed her eyes, she didn’t know how you were going to react

“Doll, listen, my name´s not Agnes, my real name is Agatha Harkness and I´m a witch, I stopped the bleeding thanks to my dark magic, but I really love you, and I´m sorry I started to ignore you, I thought you were with Wanda and-” A laughed made her open her eyes again, you were laughing at her, but how could she have thought you were with Wanda?

“Why did you think I was with Wanda? She´s like a mom to me” You gave her a soft peck on her lips and she happily received it.

“It doesn’t matter now, because now I know you love me just as much as I do, also you do not have to worry, I really like your real name, and thank you so much for saving me, I´m pretty sure Wanda is grateful too” You hugged her again and you rested your head in her shoulder, she already had talked to Wanda, Agatha explained everything to her and Wanda did the same, Wanda was really grateful, she didn’t know what would have happened if she had lost you, and Agatha felt the same, you were her entire world, she wouldn’t lose you, and she wouldn’t ignore you again.

“I promise you, I won´t leave your side, I will protect you too and I won´t ever ignore you again, I feel so bad for that doll”

“It´s alright, you don´t have to blame yourself, now we can start again, this time we will make sure to avoid misunderstandings, ok?” Agatha sighed and nodded she looked at you with so much love in her eyes

“I love your eyes they´re so pretty you know?” She leant to kiss you again and when she pressed her lips to yours, the door of you room was opened, again Wanda had interrupted you but this time Wanda smiled, she knew Agatha was the right person for you, she was sure of it.

“I just came here to see if you were already awake, we still have to talk y/n, but for now I will just let you enjoy your time with Agatha” With that said she left your room, with the door opened, of course she did that.

You tilted your head to look at Agatha´s face, you were really in love with her.

“I love you so much y/n, I won´t leave you” You were sure she wouldn’t do it; you could feel the love she felt for you.

“Do you want to go downstair for something to eat? I´m hungry, I could make something for the two of us” Agatha nodded and stood from her chair she stretched her hand out for you to take it and you eagerly took it, this was good, now you were starting a new chapter and she was the missing piece, finally you felt happy, this was the family you had wanted.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #wandavision #agatha all along #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you

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crowsofdarkness · 5 months ago

Text

Soldat: Chapter Six

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl

Soldat Masterlist

Throbbing pain of regret bounced around in my mind, body suddenly twitching back to life. The haziness began to clear, a dark room only lit by a dim light came into view. Metal bars surrounded me and I realized that I was locked in a cell. On one end of the cell there was a small cot with a blanket and on the opposite side was a sink, mirror, and a toilet that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.

An unattractive groan slipped through my lips as I pushed myself off the cold floor and slowly made my way to the mirror, cringing at my reflection. My hair was matted into knots and a slight purple mark was starting to form under my right eye. I quickly braided my hair then took in the disheveled state of my clothes. My shirt was covered in blood and sweat while my pants were covered in dirt and holes.

Holes.

My fingers grazed over what used to be the bullet hole that I had just a few hours ago. The skin was soft, no wound in sight.

“What the-?” I cursed.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Eyes snapped to the man on the other side of the cell and my skin crawled in disgust.

Alexander Pierce.

“Where am I?” I questioned, the faint pain of a headache rattling my brain.

“Now, why would I tell you that? So you can send a message to your team to come find you?” Pierce asked.

I gave him a slight shrug and smirked at him. “I thought you’d be stupid enough.”

“Steve will never find you.” Pierce slid a chair in front of the cell and took a seat. “I’m not sure he would want too after he finds out about your gift.”

“Gift? What are you talking about?” My eyes sliced into him.

“You don’t remember? The amount of pain you went through when you saw the soldier in the chair?”

My heart fluttered in my chest at the mention of him but I refused to let Pierce see my weakness for him. I crossed my arms over my chest, putting all of my weight on my left leg, and raised my eyebrows at him.

“What are you talking about?” I repeated.

Pierce remained silent, only pulling out his phone and hitting a button before turning it towards me. On the small screen, Soldat was strapped to the chair, electricity whirring to life, his body tensing with the fear of what was mere seconds away from happening.

“I knew him.”

Sadness etched in my bones at how broken his voice sounded and I bit my lip to stop the tears.

“They both acted like they knew me,” Soldat’s lips quivered.

“You’ve met them before on assignment,” Pierce appeared on the screen. “We’ve already told you this.”

Soldat firmly shook his head. “She wasn’t on any mission. I knew her. Intimately.”

The secret memories that were made just for us fluttered around in my head, my heart rate rising tenfold, realizing that he was starting to remember them. I could still remember the way his skin felt on mine.

Pierce grabbed Soldat’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “She left you. She was afraid of what you became; what Hydra made you.”’

“You lied to him!” I screamed, reaching for the phone. “He’s the one that helped me escape. It was him!”

Pierce sighed before pausing the video. “You two are meant to be connected; as one. His love for you made you the perfect candidate.”

“Candidate? For what?” I choked out.

“You two are going to use your gifts for the greater good. It will kill millions but save thousands,” Pierce stood this time, closing the distance between him and the bars of the cell, letting the video play again.

Tears brimmed in the soldier’s eyes but he blinked them away before anyone saw his weakness.

“Prep him.” Pierce commanded. “Double it.”

“We’ve never gone past 50.” A voice cried in the background.

“He’s remembering too much. DO IT!”

Screams of pain echoed off of the brick walls but it wasn’t just the soldiers, it was mine as well. It erupted from low in my throat, the pain of a thousand needles stabbing my brain over and over again, the knives twisting and turning. We both cried out, wanting the pain to stop, and I gripped the metal bars in front of me.

“Make it stop!” I cried. “Turn it off!”

“No! You need to tap into your full potential. Your powers will be used for the greater good!” Pierce demanded, letting the cries echo down the halls.

Anger ran through my veins, a slow warmth spreading down to my fingertips and they shook with an itch, wanting to wrap around Pierce's throat. Suddenly, the pain had vanished in my head and my eyes went dark with hate, the warmth in my fingertips burning with fire.

Literal fire.

A scream clawed its way from my throat as I reached for Pierce’s phone, flames immediately engulfing it. I watched in horror as a fireball emanated from my palms, dancing with the slow breeze of air around us. I pulled my hand back through the bars to my chest, the fire disappearing with a puff of smoke.

“Wha-what did you do to me?!” I shuddered.

Pierce’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I gave you a gift, Y/N! You and the soldier will be unstoppable!”

“Why?!” I slowly backed away from him, trying to give us distance.

“It was inevitable; no matter how many times we wiped his memory or put him on ice, he always remembered you. When he would get weak, he would mutter your name in the dark. We needed to find you, to make him stronger!” Pierce admitted.

I shook my head, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together. “This is why I was hired at SHIELD? For some vendetta?!”

The flames returned, my hands grabbing a fist full of Pierce’s suit, the fire burning him through to the skin.

“Bitch!” He cried out, releasing my hands from his arm.

Fear spread through me as Pierce opened the door to the cell and he grabbed my arm, throwing me onto the cot. I scrambled to get farther away from him but he continued to slither close, like a snake following his prey.

“I give you everything you need; powers, your true love. And this is how you repay me?!”

Movement on the other side of the bars caught our attention and I felt the nerves wrack my body when I saw Soldat standing in the doorway to the small room, no emotion in his eyes.

“Take care of her; make sure to be quiet.” Pierce commanded before leaving us, the bare skin of his arm red with a burn from my touch.

We both sat in silence, staring at one another, and his eyes started traveling lower to the tips of my fingers where the fire still burned. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“They did that to you?”

I blinked at the deep, richness, to his voice but slowly nodded. “Did you-did you hear all of that?”

His silence was the answer I needed.

I brought my hands to my face as I continued to shake with fear.

“I can’t make it stop. I don’t-I can’t make it go away,” I sobbed.

Soldat’s body stiffened before he entered the cell, bending at the knees in front of me. His metal hand covered both of mine, the fire evaporating. Forcing my gaze from our hands, I watched a low light in his eyes flicker, something as if remembrance appeared in them.

“Do you remember?” I breathed.

His lips twitched, trying to hold back a small smile. “I remember the feeling but I can’t remember anything else.”

With a free hand, I slowly raised it to move a strand of hair from his eyes, his body tensing under my touch, but the fear of the fire returning and hurting him caused me to pull my hand back to my chest.

“I have to get out of here.” I said, mostly to myself.

His face fell for a split second before nodding. “There’s a door at the end of the hall that leads to the outside. Go straight for two miles and there’s a motel that you can call your friends for help. You’ll have to run fast otherwise they will catch you.”

My mouth fell agape. “You’re letting me leave?”

Soldat stood to his feet and shrugged, a blank look still on his face. “You don’t belong here; I do.”

“Buck-.” I bit my lip, stopping the name to leave them, as I stood in front of him. “You don’t belong here, either. What you have gone through, no one should have to do that alone. Come with me.”

“You should go now. They will send me after you.” He ignored my request.

Licking my lips, I gave him a small nod and went to move past him, ready for my escape, but the feeling of metal wrapping around my wrist stopped me.

My gaze bounced from my wrist in his hand to his broken eyes.

“Did-did we love each other?”

I smiled fondly at him and nodded. “More than anything.”

Giving him one last look, I fought the urge to stay here with him, knowing that it wouldn’t be best for either of us if I did. I felt his fingers release me and I ran down the long hallway towards the other man that held my heart, the one I had been longing to see ever since I had been caught.

“Y/N?”

Standing on the gravel road, my hands shook as I watched Steve make his way towards me, relief clear on his face. It had been a few hours since I escaped Hydra and Soldat, making it safely to the motel. I used the phone there to call Natasha, her answering immediately almost knowing that it would be me calling. I didn’t want to call Steve, too afraid to face him with my new gift so I had Natasha come pick me up.

On the car ride back to their hideout, she had mentioned that I was gone for eight hours but that still didn’t stop Steve from looking for me.

“You should have seen him, Y/N. He was a man possessed looking for you.”

Given different circumstances, my heart would have soared at the news but with everything that happened, the last thing on my mind was Steve’s feelings for me.

Natasha had also mentioned that Nick was alive and very well, him and Maria Hill faking his death to throw Hydra off his tail. They had a plan to take down Hydra and to stop Project Insight but they didn’t know what I did.

Now, here I was standing in front of Steve, broken and afraid of what he would think of me; the new me.

“Steve,” I breathed.

“Where have you been?” He questioned, his steps slowing when he saw the look of fear on my face.

“I saw him, Stevie.” I muttered.

“Who?” He squinted his eyes.

“Sold-erhm, Bucky. I saw Bucky.” I corrected myself.

Steve’s shoulders tensed under his navy jacket; the one I loved so much on him.

“Did he remember me?”

My heart broke at the hopefulness in his voice and shook my head. “They erase his mind, Steve. They make him forget. He-uh, he didn’t remember me.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s own heart broke at my sobs and he tried everything to hide the jealousy. “Come here.”

“No,” I violently shook my head, tears starting to fall from my eyes. “I’ll hurt you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” He joked but he wished he could have taken it back when he noticed the broken frown on my face.

“Pierce, he put something in me.”

Steve’s body and demeanor changed, anger flashing through him.

“He gave me a gift,” My voice dripped with venom, “He said that Soldat and I are connected; that our love is going to be used for the greater good. For Project Insight.”

“Y/N, what did he do?”

I ignored Steve’s question, my rant fueling the new powers I was still trying to get a hold of. “He used our love for his own personal vendetta. My whole career, my life, all used to kill innocent people! They lied to him. They said that I left him because he scared me. That I was afraid of what they made him. But that’s not true,” I sputtered, the tears falling.

Steve slowly stepped towards me as I continued to rant, not paying him any attention.

“I loved him, Steve. Not Bucky but Soldat. He doesn’t remember me or you and it’s because of Pierce. They use him and freeze him when they’re done with him,” I revealed.

“We’ll save him, Y/N. I promise. But we need to stop him first,” Steve promised, reaching for my hand.

The sudden motion caused me to snatch my hands away from him with a yell. “NO! He doesn’t want to be saved!”

My screams reverberated throughout the woods, birds flocking from the trees, the tone causing Steve to step away from me.

“I felt his pain, Steve. What they did to him, I felt it. The pain crushing my skull into pieces,” I sobbed, sparks started to emanate from my fingertips.

My eyes landed away from Steve to a lone bush that lay pressed against the empty warehouse they were using as a hideout. Fingertips danced with the fire behind my back and I looked back into Steve’s worried gaze.

“He didn’t want to come with me because he didn’t remember me, our love. All because of Pierce and Hydra!”

Horror dug deep into Steve’s stomach as he watched me pull my hand from behind my back, fire shooting straight to the bush, setting it a blaze in mere seconds. He blinked, allowing the confusion to rattle his brain, then looked away from the burning bush back to me.

“My gift,” I shrugged while answering his silent thoughts.

“Pierce did that to you?” Steve’s voice finally croaked out.

I nodded while clasping my hands together. “I don’t know how he did it. The only thing I remember was waking up hooked to wires and tubes. It’s some type of serum.”

“Like super soldier serum?” Steve asked, closing the distance between us.

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head. “I don’t have super strength or hearing but I do have rapid healing.”

I motioned towards the place on my leg where the bullet wound bled hours ago. “I also have heightened senses for pain.”

“For everyone?” Steve’s eyes looked from my leg to my eyes.

“Just for him,” I answered truthfully.

We stood in silence, letting the news of who I was now sink in, and the knowing fear that nothing would be the same again.

“Steve?”

He nodded.

“I’m terrified,” I wept. “I don’t want this.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve comforted, “We’ll figure this out; all of us.”

I let myself fall into his arms as he wrapped them around me, pulling me into his chest. My hands that became so foreign to me pressed against the muscles in his back and they felt every groove, saving them to my memory. I cried into his chest, tears staining his shirt, as he rubbed comforting circles all over my back.

His lips brushed against my forehead, his breath fanning my face. “We’ll save him, Y/N. I promise. But there can’t be any secrets between us anymore. You need to tell us about your past with Bucky.”

The fear of my new powers was nothing compared to the fear of letting everyone know about my time being captured by Hydra and Soldat, all those years ago.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

Text

along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items.

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email [email protected] with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you.

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns.

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme.

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him.

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink.

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!”

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?”

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher.

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core.

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body.

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch.

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him.

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there.

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure.

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck.

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou

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rootedinrevisions · 9 months ago

Text

In the Wings: Part 1

SUMMARY: When you're offered the chance to work as a hair and makeup artist on Top Gun 3, it feels like a dream come true. Leaving behind your routine for a Hollywood blockbuster, you arrive on set with high hopes but little expectation of the whirlwind to come. That all changes the day you meet Glen Powell—charming, grounded, and quick to make an impression. As your professional relationship grows, so does a spark between you, but you're still keeping things strictly work. For now, the only thing you're certain of is that this job will be like no other.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Anon who sent me this request and gave me the idea. I'm really hoping I can take your idea and do it justice. I think this will end up being around 4 parts. But if I feel like I need to make it longer or shorter I'll adjust as I finish revising it.

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

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The email came through on a Wednesday afternoon, catching your attention amidst a relatively slow workday. The subject line read: “Film Contract Inquiry – Urgent Response Requested.” As you clicked it open, your curiosity piqued instantly. The production team was interested in hiring you as a hair and makeup artist for an upcoming film. But unlike most offers you’d received in your career, this one was cloaked in secrecy.

You scanned the email again, focusing on the specific wording. Top secret. No details were given about the film itself, just the fact that you would be based primarily in Southern California, near San Diego, for a total of twelve weeks. The cryptic message hinted that you might also be required to travel for a few additional shoots at other undisclosed locations if needed.

While these types of jobs were nothing new to you—you’d been working on movie sets for over a decade—this one had a different feel.

For one, they didn’t even mention the title of the project.

And the compensation offer attached to the email? Far beyond anything you’d ever been offered before. You leaned back in your chair, letting the numbers sink in. They clearly wanted the best for this film, and the pay confirmed it was going to be something big.

But how big? The secrecy surrounding the whole thing was hard to ignore. There wasn’t even a mention of the production company involved, and everything was handled through private communication channels.

Not only that, but they'd already sent over a non-disclosure agreement for you to sign. Until the movie was officially released, you wouldn’t be able to discuss a single detail—not the actors, not the plot, not even the locations.

The NDA felt like a weight in your inbox, staring back at you as you reread the email for the third time. Something about this film was different, and it intrigued you. Whatever it was, it had to be major if they were going to these lengths to protect it. And with that thought in mind, you clicked “Reply” and began typing.

* * * *

The flight to San Diego was uneventful, and the California sunshine greeted you as soon as you stepped out of the terminal. You quickly spotted a driver holding a sign with your name on it. After introductions, you handed over the address they’d provided, ready for the next step of this mysterious journey.

As the car began weaving through the busy San Diego streets, you took in the sights—the familiar palm trees, the ocean in the distance, the hustle of a city on the coast. You’d worked in Southern California plenty of times, but something about this trip felt different. The secrecy still clung to you like a shadow.

The driver made small talk, but you were too focused on the location to fully engage. It wasn’t until you noticed the roads becoming less crowded, the landscape shifting from city to something more… official, that your curiosity spiked. Fences lined the road now, and you could see uniformed personnel at several checkpoints as the car continued.

A military base?

Your heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on you. You leaned forward, squinting out the window at the upcoming sign confirming your suspicion: Naval Air Station North Island.

The driver pulled up to the security gate, handing over the proper identification and passes. After a brief exchange with the guard, the car was waved through.

You sat back in your seat, processing. So, this film has something to do with the military. That narrowed it down, but not by much. There were plenty of military-themed movies out there, but none that warranted this level of secrecy. You thought back to the emails, still trying to piece together what kind of project could possibly be in the works.

The car came to a stop outside a large set of trailers tucked behind an aircraft hangar. Military personnel and crew members bustled around, a few actors you didn’t yet recognize standing in clusters nearby. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, but still, no one gave anything away.

The driver helped unload your bags, and you thanked him before making your way toward one of the trailers you’d been instructed to report to. A sense of unease mixed with anticipation settled in your chest. You were about to find out what all the mystery was about.

With your equipment in tow, you approached the door to the hair and makeup trailer, pausing just long enough to take a breath before stepping inside. Whatever you’d signed on for, you were about to find out—whether you were ready or not.

You stepped inside the trailer, greeted by the familiar scent of hairspray and cosmetics. The space was bustling with activity—mirrors lined with bright lights, makeup kits neatly arranged, and hair styling tools humming in the background. Three other stylists were already there, each at their own station, chatting quietly as they organized their gear.

You scanned the room for an empty spot, finding a vacant station near the back. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you began unpacking your kit, laying out your brushes, combs, and palettes with the same precision you did before any project. Your hands moved with a practiced ease, though your mind was still racing with questions about the film. You tried to brush it off as first-day nerves, but the secrecy of it all still gnawed at you.

A couple of minutes passed before one of the stylists, a brunette with sleek hair pulled into a tight ponytail, approached you with a friendly smile. “You must be the new hire for this project. I’m Katherine,” she said, extending a hand.

“Hi." You said as you gave her your name and shook her hand.

“Welcome! You’ll love this crew,” she said, gesturing to the others who were busy in their own areas. "We’re still settling into the schedule, but it’s a great team." She paused, lowering her voice slightly, “Though this project is next-level crazy, right? So much secrecy.”

You nodded, laughing softly. “I know, right? I’ve never had to sign so many NDAs before starting a job.”

Just as you were about to ask more, the door swung open, and a crew member entered, holding a stack of papers. He looked around before making his way toward you. “I’ve got your list of actors and the schedule for this week.”

“Thanks,” you said, accepting the documents from him.

He gave you a quick nod before heading out, leaving you alone with the list in hand. You glanced down, scanning the schedule you and the other hair and makeup artists would be following. Then you notice the names that are listed.

Tom Cruise. Miles Teller. Glen Powell.

Your eyes widened slightly as recognition hit. You’d heard those names before—especially from Top Gun: Maverick. You looked up from the paper, your heart picking up its pace again. Could it be?

Before you could process it further, you overheard one of the other stylists—Lily—speaking to Katherine in a hushed tone. "I think I saw Tom Cruise on set earlier. They’ve kept it under wraps, but... it’s definitely Top Gun 3."

Your breath caught in your throat. Top Gun 3.

It clicked. The secrecy. The military base. The list of actors. This wasn’t just some random movie set—it was one of the biggest sequels in recent history. You were part of Top Gun.

You tried to keep your face neutral, but inside you were buzzing with excitement. Top Gun 3. You had landed a job on one of the most anticipated movies ever. You looked back down at your list, realizing that you would be working with some of the biggest names in Hollywood over the next few weeks—one of them being Glen Powell.

Your mind raced as you processed it all, but you kept your cool. This was your job, and you needed to stay professional, no matter how starstruck you might be. You took a deep breath, refocused, and went back to setting up your station, knowing that your first day on Top Gun 3 was just beginning.

You were adjusting the lighting at your station when the trailer door creaked open again. You didn’t pay much attention at first, focusing on getting everything perfect for the day ahead. But then, you heard a familiar voice—a low, playful tone that filled the room with ease.

"Is this where the magic happens?"

You looked up, and there he was—Glen Powell, standing in the doorway with a laid-back smile on his face. He was taller than you expected, dressed in casual workout gear, his hair its natural shade, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. Your first task was to lighten Glen’s hair a few shades to look a little more naturally sun-faded than his darker natural color.

His eyes landed on you, and for a brief moment, there was a spark—an instant recognition of something unspoken.

"Yep, this is where we make the magic happen," you responded, grinning as you set your tools down.

Glen walked over to your station, his posture relaxed yet confident. “You must be the one in charge of turning me into Hangman 2.0.”

You chuckled, motioning for him to take a seat in the chair. “I guess I am. Ready to go a few shades lighter?”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a seat in the chair with a smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got. I’m trusting you with my hair, so no pressure, right?”

“Oh, none at all,” you quipped, rolling your eyes playfully as you grabbed the bleach kit. “Just a couple of hours and we’ll make you camera-ready. Shouldn’t be too painful.”

The banter was light, but the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. Even though this was your first time meeting, the interaction felt natural, as though you’d known each other for longer. Glen was easygoing, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected as you worked.

As you began sectioning off his hair, you asked, “So, are you nervous about going blond again? Or is this just another day in the life of Glen Powell?”

He leaned back in the chair, his grin widening. “I won’t lie, the last time I did this, I felt like I ended up looking like an extra from Legally Blonde. But hey, if you’re the one doing it, I’m sure it’ll turn out great.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I promise, no Legally Blonde vibes. Just a subtle lightning. You’ll still look like Hangman.”

Across the trailer, a few of the other makeup artists glanced over, their eyes darting between you and Glen, smiling knowingly. Sarah, one of the artists working on another actor, shot you a teasing look before leaning over to her client, Jay Ellis, who raised an eyebrow in Glen’s direction. You overheard a soft chuckle from Jay as Sarah whispered something.

Glen, oblivious to the side glances, watched you carefully as you applied the bleach, a casual silence settling between you for a few moments before he broke it again. “So, how’d you end up on this project? You’ve got to be pretty top-tier if they brought you onto Top Gun.”

You glanced at him, surprised at the question. "I've been in the business for a while. Special effects makeup is kind of my specialty, but I do all kinds of stuff. They contacted me about this job, and it was all very hush-hush until I got here."

He tilted his head, clearly impressed. "Well, looks like we’re in good hands.”

You felt a subtle warmth in your chest at the compliment, though you brushed it off quickly. “Just doing my job,” you replied, grabbing a small brush to touch up a few sections of his hair. “Anyway, you’ve got the easy part today. They’re filming inside, so minimal makeup. Just enough so you don’t look like a ghost on camera.”

He chuckled. “Don’t want to scare anyone off with my Casper-like complexion.”

As you continued working on his hair, the conversation flowed easily. You asked him about his last few projects, and he asked about yours in return, keeping the tone light and casual. There was something effortless about talking to him, and it made the time fly by faster than expected.

When the bleaching was done and his hair was the perfect shade of lighter blond, you gave it a final check in the mirror. “Well, what do you think?” you asked, turning the chair slightly so he could see the result.

He inspected his reflection, his eyes lighting up in approval. “I’ve got to say, you nailed it. No Elle Woods here.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Told you.”

With his hair done, you moved on to the makeup—just enough to prevent any washout under the bright lights. It was quick and simple, a few strokes here and there, but even as you applied it, the easy conversation continued.

“You know,” Glen said suddenly, as you brushed a bit of powder on his face, “for someone working in Hollywood, you’re pretty laid back. I’ve had stylists who barely talk and are just all about the job, and then there’s you—who’s actually, you know, fun.”

You laughed softly at his words, feeling the compliment slip into the air between you. “Well, I try. I’ve learned that being chill makes the day go by smoother.”

He smirked, his gaze locking onto yours for just a beat too long. “Good policy.”

There it was again—something between you that neither of you acknowledged aloud, but it lingered, making the air feel slightly heavier in the best way. A moment passed, and you stepped back, finishing the last of his touch-ups.

“All done,” you said, stepping back to clean your brushes. “You’re officially camera-ready.”

He stood from the chair, taking a quick look in the mirror again. “Not bad at all. You’re good at this.”

“Thanks,” you replied, flashing a small smile. “Just don’t mess it up too much before they get you on camera.”

He chuckled, his eyes catching yours once more before he turned toward the door. “No promises.” And with that, he gave you a playful wink and left the trailer, leaving you with a slight smile lingering on your lips.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Sarah leaned over with a knowing look. “Looks like you and Glen are gonna get along just fine.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “It’s just work,” you said, though the butterflies in your stomach told a slightly different story.

Jay chimed in again, smirking. “Yeah, sure. But I’d say that was the most fun Glen’s had in a makeup chair in a long time.”

#Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction

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hellincarnation · 7 months ago

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Hello! This is a message to the anon who has been sending very haphazard, messy and increasingly nonsensical hate. They are pretty ew.

Not sure if cringe anon is the same as this one, but if you are, here’s a quick thingy. Sure, I’ve played with your message, adding humour as a lovely way of mockery to you. But there is a line to be drawn, I’m fine with you making snarky comments. I make snarky comments, but I draw the line when you start insulting whole groups of race. And….insulting us with the most generic types of comments.

Seriously?

That is the most ridiculous pseudo hate ever.

I’ll remind you that the term “asians” include Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Viet, Malaysian, Singaporean, Filipino, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Indian, Bhutanese, Pakistani, Lebanese and so many more groups of people.

You’re gonna have to be the most dumb, blind and ignorant piece of filth if you think all of those groups of people look the same. If you really believe that, you’re bigoted and ill informed.

Also. OF COURSE SOME GROUPS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE A COMMON ANCESTOR LOOK THE SAME, OH MY GOD THE STUPIDITY!

And if you are part of Asia and you’re gonna whine like “I was just making a joke!” This is not a joke if it hurts people, yes this is a popularised statement but to many people, it is not funny. It is only a joke when EVERYONE is laughing. So shut up about that.

And then here

….that’s just so wrong.

First of all, I’m ethnically Chinese, which means my great grandparents originally came from china. I was not born on the mainland, nor was my parents, nor was my grandparents. And where I am currently living, consumption of dog meat is illegal. Even in China, the amount of dog meat consumption is drastically decreasing.

That is an old, outdated, stereotypical, insulting way to refer to Chinese people. Not only that!

You also might refer to people from Cambodia, India, Indonesia, Ghana, Laos, Vietnam, Nigeria and Switzerland. Unless you’re saying I’m from all of those countries, your statements makes no fucking sense.

I’ll wrap it up, in the end, I may laugh, joke around, make fun of such comments, but I draw the line when it could potentially hurt bigger groups of people.

My blog is a place to talk to my friends, I’ve made many good ones here, Mireya, Zahrawr, Tanaka, Jeah, Riyana, God, Tamanna, Etc

To all of you, I’m very grateful for getting to meet you.

To this Anonymous person: if you come out and say “oh it’s just a joke” or reveal that you are Asian too, shame on you. Out of all people, you should know how bigoted and disgusting those statements are. If you aren’t asian, even worse. You’re a stupid, ignorant and pathetic piece of shit who thinks it’s okay to send these types of messages. You disgust me.

Moving on, I will not tolerate any more of these types of posts, I will be deleting them on sight. I won’t be turning off anon, since there are lovely anons who like to send nice messages. But I will not be posting anymore of these stupid, idiotic and hateful comments, especially that could potentially hurt a large number of people.

Fuck off, leave all these people alone, leave me alone, this is not a joke, it’s not okay to be spout this bullshit so freely.

Update: I’ve blocked anon ;)))

If this turns out to be anyone I’ve tagged, I will be very very disappointed in you.

@jeahreading @tamanna-and-her-struggles @shinchansbitch @im-on-crack-send-help @iamgayforyourmom1510 @mentallyunstablequeen101 @momhwa117 @zeherili-ankhein @your-dazzling-sun @schrodinger-ka-billa @abyssmita @cafffeineconnoisseur @byproduct-of-hades @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @mireyaaaaaaaaa @circe-butbetter @mi-stress-of-chaos @lyrebirb @depressed-bi-twerking @hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe @lesbianpoetess @unhinged-as-hell @debacleofdaemons @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @celesteablack @evry1h8s-me @transienctly-translucent @priimadonnna

#ps #if i do receive anymore of these and they start being threats I can and will turn off the anonymous features #fuck you anon #fuck off and fuck you #i would be lying if i said I wasn’t pissed #because I’m pissed and annoyed #way to start the day huh???#leave everyone alone #and if you are one of us you seriously disappoint me #I hope you shut up and take some reflection time #anyways anyone who’s reading this and triggered I’m so sorry #i love yall/plat

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simplyraeblue · 3 months ago

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King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light drinking, MDNI, NSFW, guard dog energy men, Toji is his own warning, why can't I have Gojo and Geto be my friends, suggestive talk but no smut

A/N: why have I decided to make Toji the villain? idk man's hot and I just like thinking about him. also, I hope we like that Sukuna is becoming more of a softy cause of us, but obviously he still has that devilish man inside ;)

index part ten | part twelve

part eleven word count: 4,061

Sukuna stirred, his body aching from the physical altercation with Toji. He lay in bed a while longer, his mind replaying the fight outside the bar. While part of him regretted the escalation, a deeper, more primal part of him knew he would do it again if it meant keeping you safe.

Sukuna reached for his phone on the nightstand. He paused, thumb hovering over the screen, recalling your calm demeanor and the way you had reassured him last night. It struck him then—just how much you had come to mean to him, not just as a friend or someone he felt compelled to protect, but as someone deeply ingrained in the fabric of his life.

With a sigh, he unlocked the phone, his inbox empty of any new messages. He debated sending you a text, something casual to ensure you were okay, but also something to express his gratitude for your understanding. He typed out a message, hesitated, then deleted it. Words seemed inadequate.

He needed to make things right, not just with you but within himself.

The sound of his phone buzzing broke his reverie. It was Gojo, likely checking in after hearing about the fight. Sukuna answered, his tone neutral as he braced for the conversation.

“Morning, how are you holding up?” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was an underlying seriousness that spoke of his concern.

“I’m alright,” Sukuna responded, his gaze settling on the cityscape outside his window. “Just thinking about last night.”

“Yeah, about that…” Gojo trailed off, then continued, “You made a tough call, but I get why you did it. Just, you know, maybe next time let’s try to handle it without the fists?”

Sukuna chuckled dryly, “I’ll try, but no promises when it comes to him.”

"Listen, man, I don't blame you at all," Gojo reassured Sukuna, his voice then dropping to a more serious tone. "If I see him look that way at her again, I'll be right there beside you next time."

Sukuna was only slightly stunned by Gojo’s protectiveness of you, almost fierce enough to match his own. A part of him knew better – Gojo would go to great, dangerous lengths for his friends, and it seemed you had fallen into that category quickly in his mind.

Meanwhile, you were in the middle of your workday, focused on some designs you were drafting for a client, when Mai approached your desk with an uncharacteristically hesitant look on her face.

“Hey,” she began, her voice tinged with an awkwardness that immediately put you on edge. “These were delivered for you.” She set down a small, elegantly wrapped box of chocolates on your desk. The packaging was sleek, the kind of high-end confectionery that screamed expensive. However, it was the note attached to it that caught your attention and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thought you could use a sweet pick-me-up. – Toji”

You stared at the box, feeling a mix of confusion and rising discomfort. “Did he say anything else when he dropped these off?” you asked Mai, hoping for some context that might mitigate the weirdness of the gesture.

Mai shook her head. “Nope, just handed them over with that smirk of his. But, uh, there’s something else,” she added, her tone cautious. She pointed to a smaller label on the side of the box that you hadn’t noticed. It read: ‘Contains aphrodisiac ingredients – for a fun time.’

Your stomach turned. It felt like a blatant invasion of your personal boundaries, especially given everything that had happened. The idea that Toji thought this was an appropriate way to reach out, after the clear message you had all sent him, was both infuriating and deeply unsettling.

Seeing your distressed reaction, Mai quickly added, “You don’t have to take them, you know. We can just toss them out. I’m really sorry, I should’ve checked first.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for Mai’s supportive presence. “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. But yeah, let’s just get rid of them. I don’t want anything from him.”

Mai grabbed the box and disposed of it in the trash bin near your desk. “Good riddance,” she muttered.

Trying to shake off the discomfort, you focused back on your work, but the incident had left a sour taste. What was he thinking?

It was like Toji was trying to get under your skin – no, he was trying to get under Sukuna’s skin. There must have been some history between them, though the specifics eluded you. If it had been significant, surely Sukuna would have shared it with you... wouldn't he?

As you mulled over this, the thought nagged at you, until you just couldn’t take any more. “Sukuna, can I ask you something?” you began, leaning against the counter next to where he was working on a tattoo design at the shop.

He looked up from his station, his expression open and attentive. “Sure, what’s up?”

“It’s about Toji,” you started, carefully watching his reaction. Sukuna’s demeanor shifted slightly, a subtle tenseness appearing. “Is there a history there? Something I should know about?”

Sukuna paused for a moment, considering how much to reveal. Then, he sighed and set down his tablet, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, there’s history,” he admitted. “Toji and I go way back. We used to run in the same circles, got into a lot of trouble together. But things went south when he started going down a path I couldn’t follow—gambling, getting involved with some shady people. He hasn’t changed, and he’s not the kind of person I want around here, especially not around people I care about.”

You listened, absorbing his words. “What kind of trouble? What dangerous things did you guys get into?”

Sukuna looked at you, measuring his response. "Let's just say we were young and reckless. We took risks—street fights, illegal races, that sort of thing. Nothing I'm proud of, and I left that life behind a long time ago. I made a decision to change, and unfortunately, Toji didn't."

“You,” you said, pointing your finger at him with a slight smirk, “were dumb enough to participate in illegal races? Was it on your bike?”

“Don’t start,” Sukuna chuckled, appreciating your light-hearted teasing as he leaned over to flick your forehead playfully. “I had a shittier bike back then, didn’t matter what happened to it.”

His expression then shifted suddenly, becoming more thoughtful.

“Or me,” he added softly, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

The change in his tone made you pause, the playful atmosphere dissipating immediately. It was a rare glimpse into the more vulnerable side of Sukuna, one that he didn’t often show.

“You really didn’t care about what happened to you?” you asked gently, noticing the somber shift in his mood.

Sukuna looked away briefly, his eyes distant as if reliving memories he seldom spoke of. “Back then, I didn’t. It felt like nothing really mattered,” he admitted quietly, then sighed. “But I found reasons to change my outlook. Found things... and people worth caring for.”

His gaze returned to you, lingering with a depth that conveyed unspoken truths, suggesting that you were among those reasons he referred to. You couldn’t help but feel a chill run down your spine at the way he looked at you.

“Are you guys sharing secrets without us?”

The sudden addition of a familiar voice almost sent even more of a shiver through your body as you physically lurched forward away from the sound. “Gojo!” you shouted at the white-haired menace, turning to see both him and Geto looking smug at the fact they’d snuck up on you.

"Ah, what do we have here? Sukuna getting all sentimental? I never thought I'd see the day," Gojo teased, a broad grin spreading across his face as he slung an arm around your shoulder.

Geto followed close behind, chuckling. "Yeah, Sukuna, you're usually so tough. What happened? Did you guys watch a sad movie or something?" he joked, leaning against a nearby workstation and giving you a wink.

Sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Can't a guy have a serious conversation once in a while without you two crashing the party?"

"Serious conversation, huh? Who knew you had it in you?" Gojo continued, nudging Sukuna playfully in the arm. "Don’t worry, we'll keep your secret. Won't tell a soul that the great Sukuna has a soft side."

"Alright, alright, enough about me," Sukuna conceded, his tone still lighthearted. "What brings you two here so late? Don’t tell me you missed us already."

Gojo shrugged, his playful demeanor persisting. "We just finished up a project nearby and thought we’d check in. Plus, we wouldn’t miss a chance to tease you a bit."

Geto nodded in agreement, moving to sit on one of the empty chairs. "Yeah, and we brought some late-night snacks. Figured we could all use a little pick-me-up after a long day."

"Please tell me it's not chocolate," you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you caught sight of the snacks Gojo and Geto were unpacking.

"Why?" Sukuna asked, his curiosity piqued along with Gojo and Geto, all three pairs of eyes now focused intently on you.

Ah, that’s right. You hadn’t mentioned that little detail of your day to them.

"Nothing to worry about," you said quickly, waving your hand dismissively, hoping to steer their attention away from the topic. You knew all too well that nothing good would come out of telling the three guard dogs you’d somehow gained.

Gojo, however, wasn’t so easily dissuaded. His eyes narrowed playfully as he leaned in closer. "Come on, there's clearly a story there. You can't just drop a hint like that and expect us not to dig."

"Yeah," Geto chimed in, his tone light but persistent. "What’s wrong with chocolate?"

Realizing that evasion might only pique their curiosity further, you sighed and decided a partial truth might be the best approach. "Let's just say I received a gift of chocolates today that were supposed to be... well, they were labeled as aphrodisiacs," you explained.

Gojo’s eyes lit up with mischief at this revelation. "Oh, really now? That sounds like a fun gift, maybe you should share with Sukuna," he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

Before you could respond, Sukuna’s hand swiftly came down on the back of Gojo's head. "Pervert" Sukuna warned, though there was a hint of humor in his eyes despite his annoyance.

Gojo rubbed the spot where he'd been hit, laughing. "Okay, okay. But you have to admit, it was a little funny," he conceded, still chuckling.

Sukuna shot Gojo a sharp look, his patience clearly wearing thin, but Gojo only continued, undeterred. "Come on, Sukuna, don't be such a spoilsport. Imagine the possibilities! A little chocolate, a little nudity..."

Before Gojo could continue with his increasingly suggestive scenarios, Sukuna reached out as if to smack him again, but this time Geto stepped in, catching Sukuna’s arm in mid-air. “Let’s not turn this into a wrestling match, too,” Geto chuckled, holding Sukuna back with minimal effort, his own amusement clear as he enjoyed the rare opportunity to restrain his usually unstoppable friend.

"You guys are impossible," you laughed, finding the scene before you—Geto holding back a mock-glaring Sukuna, and Gojo's continued teasing—genuinely funny. It was these moments of absurdity that made anything else feel temporary.

"Alright, alright, I'm done. If only for her sake” Gojo said, finally backing off a bit as he jutted his thumb in your direction, though his grin suggested he was quite pleased with himself for stirring things up.

"You’re so hilarious," Sukuna admitted grudgingly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile as Geto released his arm, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as a peace offering.

Even though Sukuna was less than pleased, you found yourself content to watch the three men continue to chastise each other for the rest of the night.

Sukuna had invited you on a proper date, a gesture that both excited and unnerved you given the complex layers of your relationship. He’d promised a surprise, a fancy evening out, which was quite the departure from the usual casual hangouts at the shop.

As you prepared for the evening, Mai was at your side, bubbling with enthusiasm and a touch of mischief. She had brought over a slew of dress options, each more daring than the last, her excitement palpable in every enthusiastic gesture.

“Ooh, try this one!” Mai exclaimed, pulling out a particularly bold, red dress that was a bit too revealing for the occasion. “Sukuna won’t be able to take his eyes off you all night in this!”

You chuckled, taking the dress from her and holding it up for inspection. While the dress was undoubtedly stunning, it was more suited for a nightclub than a sophisticated evening out. “Mai, I think this screams 'party' more than 'elegant dinner.' Sukuna might fall off his chair!”

Mai pouted playfully, “But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Yet, seeing your hesitation, she relented with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, alright. Let’s find something that’s sexy but not ‘falling-out-of-it’ sexy.”

You both laughed as she dug back into the assortment of clothing, finally settling on the sleek, navy-blue dress you had eyed earlier.

“Fine, we’ll go with sophisticated-sexy, not club-sexy,” Mai conceded as she helped you into the dress.

As Mai moved on to your makeup, she kept the look soft and enhancing, focusing on accentuating your features rather than transforming them. “We’re aiming for ‘captivating’, not ‘captured’, right?” she quipped, applying a warm, subtle eyeshadow that made your eyes pop.

“Exactly,” you agreed, laughing as she expertly applied mascara and a touch of eyeliner. The final look was exactly what you had hoped for—classy, a bit seductive, but entirely appropriate for a romantic evening out. Mai stepped back to admire her work, nodding in approval.

“You look incredible,” she affirmed. “Sexy, but like, ‘I’m-an-adult-who-knows-what-I’m-doing’ sexy.”

“All thanks to you.” You shot a playful wink her way, making her roll her eyes in fake-disgust.

Mai, seeing you fully dressed and almost ready to go, couldn't help herself and launched into one last pep talk. With her hands on your shoulders, she looked into your eyes through your mirror with an impish grin.

"Okay, listen," she started, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "tonight is your night. You look absolutely amazing, and Sukuna is going to be floored. Just remember, whatever happens, keep the mystery alive."

Her advice started off genuinely supportive, but then her playful side began to show through, edging toward more daring suggestions. "You know, if the date goes really well, maybe you could try this trick with your tongue—"

Just as Mai was about to delve into specifics that were decidedly more provocative than you were aiming for, a knock at the door interrupted her. You both froze, her mouth still hanging open in a paused giggle from her unfinished scandalous advice.

"That must be Sukuna," you said, a blush creeping onto your cheeks, thankful for the interruption that spared you from the rest of Mai's boundary-pushing tips.

Mai winked at you, quickly switching back to her supportive friend mode. "Go get him, tiger. And remember, you’re the sexiest thing of all."

You walked over to the door, taking a deep breath to calm the fluttering in your stomach, and opened it to find Sukuna standing there. The moment he saw you, his eyes lit up, a genuine smile spreading across his face. It was clear he was as taken with your appearance as Mai had predicted.

"Wow, you look incredible," Sukuna said, his gaze appreciative and warm. His compliment was sincere, making you feel all the more confident.

"Thank you," you responded, feeling a rush of excitement for the night's plans. "You look pretty great yourself."

With a chuckle, Sukuna offered his arm. "Of course I do. Shall we?"

As you stepped out into the crisp evening air, Sukuna led you towards a sleek, black car parked just outside your building. You paused, a playful smile spreading across your face. "What's this? No bike tonight? I almost didn't recognize our transportation without the usual roar."

Sukuna grinned, catching the tease in your tone. "Thought I'd switch it up and go for something a bit less... breezy tonight. Plus, this way, I get to enjoy not having to yell over the engine to talk to you."

"You mean you don't enjoy our shouting conversations?" you quipped, laughing as you followed him to the car. "I was starting to think you preferred them, given how often we end up on that bike of yours."

He opened the passenger door for you, his response delivered with a mock-serious nod. "Well, I figured it was time to show you I can be a gentleman with four wheels, not just two. But don't worry, the bike's not going anywhere. We can go back to our high-speed chats anytime you miss them."

As you settled into the comfortable leather seat, you couldn't help but appreciate the change. "This is nice, though. I admit, it’s kind of a relief not to have to worry about helmet hair tonight."

Sukuna laughed as he started the car. "See? I’m always thinking ahead. Just trying to keep things interesting for us."

Once Sukuna pulled up to the elegantly lit entrance of the restaurant, he got out and quickly walked around to open your door, offering his hand with a charming smile.

"You know, this chivalry thing suits you quite well," you teased as you accepted his hand to step out of the car.

Sukuna chuckled, leading you toward the restaurant's grand entrance. "I'll make a note of it. Only the best for you tonight," he replied, his voice warm.

The host greeted you both immediately, his professional smile widening as he looked from Sukuna to you. "Welcome, a table for two?"

"Yes, please," Sukuna confirmed, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as you followed the host inside. His touch warmed your skin, even down to your bones.

Once seated at a private table with a perfect view of the restaurant’s garden, the host handed you menus and wished you a pleasant meal. Sukuna handed you your menu with a flourish, mimicking a waiter’s bow, which made you giggle.

"Will you be ordering for both of us, Monsieur?" you played along, opening the menu with an exaggerated sense of importance.

"Only if you trust my culinary choices," he winked. "But tonight, I think you should lead. After all, we wouldn’t want to end the evening with any culinary mishaps."

As you both perused your menus, the playful mood continued. "What looks good to you?" you asked, scanning the options.

"I’m thinking the seared scallops to start," Sukuna suggested, his eyes not leaving the menu. "For the main course, how does the duck confit sound?"

"Decadent," you agreed, impressed with his selections. "Let’s do it. And maybe we can share a dessert if we have room."

"Perfect. We’ll go all out tonight—start with the scallops, move on to the duck, and end with something sweet," he summarized, closing his menu and signaling a waiter.

As the waiter approached, Sukuna confidently placed the order exactly as discussed. Once the waiter had departed, you leaned in with a raised eyebrow, a playful smirk forming. "To be honest, I thought we were just joking about the scallops and duck."

Sukuna feigned a hurt expression, his lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout. "I have finer tastes than pizza and beer, you know," he responded, his tone mock-offended but his eyes twinkling with humor.

You chuckled, enjoying the light-hearted banter. "Oh, really? I was under the impression that those were your gourmet staples."

"Well, I like to surprise people," Sukuna retorted, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. "Besides, I can be sophisticated when the occasion calls for it. Tonight seemed like a good night to pull out all the stops."

"Consider me thoroughly impressed, Mr. Sophistication," you teased, sipping your water. "I'll have to revise my Sukuna dossier when I get home."

Sukuna laughed, his usual confidence mingling with a genuine warmth that made the evening feel even more special. "Make sure you update it to include 'charming dinner companion' and 'excellent taste in food,'" he suggested, raising his glass toward you.

"And what should I list under 'hobbies'?" you asked, playing along. "Motorcycle racing? Gourmet cooking? Candlelit dinners?"

"Definitely add 'making my date laugh,'" he shot back, clinking his glass against yours. "And maybe 'romantic at heart.'"

As the conversation flowed and you both eagerly anticipated the next course, the atmosphere suddenly shifted when a new waiter appeared at your table, plates in hand. The unexpected presence was jarring as he delivered the dishes with a grin that you never wanted to see again.

"Well, look who we have here," Toji said, setting down the food with unnecessary flourish. His gaze lingered on both of you, sparking an immediate tension in the air.

Surprised and annoyed, Sukuna's demeanor changed instantly, his welcoming expression turning sharp. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tight with controlled irritation.

"Oh, just helping out tonight. Thought I’d personally ensure our special guests are taken care of," Toji replied nonchalantly, his eyes darting between you and Sukuna, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

His reply did little to hide his true intent, which seemed to be more about provocation than hospitality. Toji took his time straightening up after setting the plates, his movements slow and deliberate as if to prolong his intrusion into your evening.

"I see you're branching out into new ventures," Sukuna commented dryly, trying to maintain composure despite the unwelcome interruption.

Toji chuckled, a sound that seemed more mocking than merry. "You know me, always exploring new opportunities. Plus, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see how you two are enjoying your romantic dinner." His tone was taunting, and he paused to give a pointed look that made his insinuations all too clear.

Feeling the need to defuse the situation, you interjected with a firm politeness, "Thank you for delivering our meal. We appreciate it, but we’d also appreciate some privacy now."

Toji held your gaze a moment longer, going so far as to scan lower, his smirk lingering as if to savor the disruption he’d caused. Finally, he straightened up and gave a shallow bow, mockingly formal. "Of course, enjoy your dinner," he said, before slowly turning to leave, his steps leisurely as he glanced back one last time, ensuring his presence was felt just a bit longer.

“What the hell?” Sukuna muttered under his breath, his hands tightening into fists on the table. The annoyance was palpable in his voice, reflecting your own feelings.

Despite Toji's departure from your immediate vicinity, the uneasy feeling that he was still watching hung heavily over you. Sukuna noticed your discomfort and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself for both your sakes.

“Let’s not let him ruin our night,” Sukuna said, reaching across the table to gently place his hand over yours, offering a reassuring squeeze. “We’re here to have a good time, remember?”

You nodded, appreciating Sukuna’s efforts to redirect the evening back to something more pleasant. “You’re right,” you agreed, forcing a smile and squeezing his hand back. “Let’s enjoy our meal.”

And yet, even though you felt comforted by Sukuna’s presence in that moment, you still knew that somewhere... a pair of eyes were still settled on you.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

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