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joelscruff · 1 year

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you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+

welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/ i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy! summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link

"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."

"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."

He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.

Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.

"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.

"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.

One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.

You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.

"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.

"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"

"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."

You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.

"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"

"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."

He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.

"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"

"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."

You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.

"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.

He smirks, "Yeah you are."

You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.

"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."

After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.

"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"

"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."

He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."

There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.

"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."

He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"

You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"

He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"

You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."

"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."

You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.

He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."

"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."

You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.

Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.

"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."

"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."

"That's right."

"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."

"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."

He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."

"Yes it-"

"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.

"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"

"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."

"We don't-"

"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."

His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.

"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.

He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."

You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."

"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."

You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.

"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."

You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.

Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.

"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."

He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.

He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.

"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."

Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

this is now a series, and other parts can be found on my masterlist.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #*#this was so fun to write #i like this dynamic a lot and might end up writing more for them who knows #fic: soft!dom joel

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spaghettiposts · 10 months

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Unspoken Truths

Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.

Words: 4k

There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it?

Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for.

Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think.

Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.

“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”

The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising.

Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?”

It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way.

When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers.

Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.”

The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.

“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.

Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.

Clearly…that didn’t happen.

“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.

You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.

Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking.

You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much.

Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.

You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now.

Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.

Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.

/-/

It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda? Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm.

Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.

I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️

Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad.

Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there?

Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.

“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor.

Sweeping it is.

Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off.

Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.

“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.

“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it.

Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.”

You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.

She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.

“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.

Does cheese go in there?

“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge.

You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?” Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”

Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”

“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”

“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.

You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”

Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.

Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.

Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.

Right, the talk.

Fuck.

You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person.

She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous.

“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”

You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.

She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“

“Abortion isn’t…?”

“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.

Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same.

“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them.

Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.

“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring.

Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind.

“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.

You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”

Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

Smooth.

“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid.

The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-

“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended.

“Wait- yes?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.

You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug.

You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter.

“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response.

“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.

Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…

As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead.

You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“

/-/

The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in.

His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.

Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club.

Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.

She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten.

Wanda could not sleep.

There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.

Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.

Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.

Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.

Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes.

Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.

Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness.

/-/

“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek.

Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too.

The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.

Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to.

“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile.

He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone.

You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.

Now it seemed you were expecting two.

You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”

Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.

Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.”

Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.

“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.

“No Y/n I just- two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.

You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”

Missing the disappointed look on her face.

Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.

Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”

Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.”

More than you realize.

/-/

“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”

Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”

A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.

“Again?” You clarified.

“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry.

“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?”

“Steves burgers…” She beamed.

“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket.

“With, and grilled please.”

“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets.

Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”

You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go.

Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?

/-/

“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.

You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.

Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing. “Thank you…”

“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table.

That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss.

Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.

She kissed you.

And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”

Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”

Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.

“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.

Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Love you.”

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”

“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again.

It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less.

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wlw post #wanda imagine #wanda my beloved #fluff #pregnancy #pregnant wanda maximoff

1K notes · View notes

suhkusa · 2 months

Note

HELLOOOO i see you opened ur req👀 can I req for suna or atsumu suddenly getting a girlfriend, like hardlaunching her on social media, after almost a year of being on and off... can it be angst to comfort/fluff (pls i want to cope so bad from my prev situationship bahaaaaahahha) tysm just so u know i love u and ur works and prolly the first one to like em immediately>< <3

CASUAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, situationship-to-relationship lol

A/N. ouchhh i hope this is good anon ><

Being in a situationship with Atsumu Miya was the absolute worst.

Sometimes it felt like he was stringing you along in his little game, while other times it felt like you two were truly meant to be together.

There were many invisible boundaries in the relationship, or talking stage, or whatever he wanted to call it, that were made without having to say a thing.

It was mutually exclusive, so no talking to other people romantically.

You two didn’t post each other on social media.

The two of you would make it official when you both were ready.

The rules were easy to follow. Though, you had always been a bit iffy on the third one. When would the two of you deem yourselves “ready” when you’ve already been talking for so long?

———

The worst part about Atsumu, was that he was so indecisive.

One minute, the two of you could be acting as if you were a married couple. Going on dates, spending time at each other’s houses, and late night calls. The two of you even had pet names for each other!

But then the next minute, he decides his volleyball career is more important. Or that he’s too busy. Or that he wants a break. Or that you’re too controlling. So many excuses, yet every time he calls out to you to come back, you come running back head over heels.

And it hurts. It hurts being with him even though you two had never made it official. How could you feel so tethered and intertwined with a man who never had the guts to ask you to be his and only his? Who never posts you on social media?

You weren’t controlling. You were just tired of this cat and mouse game. You just wanted certainty and reassurance.

Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently for Atsumu Miya, it is.

“I don’t get it Atsumu, why can’t we just say we’re together? Everyone already knows we basically are!” you sigh.

The two of you sat in his apartment as the TV played in the midst of your argument. This was definitely one of the worst arguments that had occurred between you two.

“If we’re basically together then why can’t you just be happy? Do I need to ask you out? To post you?” he rebuttals, his voice clearly agitated.

“Because! You haven’t asked me out. That stuff is the bare minimum yet I’m here begging. You’re so comfortable in this weird limbo talking stage where it’s so easy for you to leave me and then hope I come crawling back!” you cry, you hadn’t even realized you started to cry. “I’m so, so tired of this shit!”

“If you’re so tired, then leave!”

Usually during the short breaks of your situationship with Atsumu Miya, it was always him who had decided to call it off. But his words had snapped a cord in you that had already been thinned to its last thread.

The two of you share a tense look, both unmoving. It’s you who decides to break the silence.

“Me? Leave? Hah, fine. I will,” you’re quick to grab your bag on the side table.

“Wait, Y/N-”

“And don’t expect me to come crawling back to you, Miya. This time you really did it,”

He freezes when you open the door, eyes filled with tears as you look back at him.

“Bye,”

The door shuts before he could say anything.

What was he supposed to do now?

———

If Atsumu knew one thing for sure, it was that he was stupid. 100%, a million times over, he was an idiot.

His concept of love and relationships were hindered during his high school days. The ability to commit was a hard idea to grasp onto.

But you were different.

You were kind and patient, unlike any one he’s ever known, and he was undeniably scared. Scared to lose you, scared to fuck up. And so what did he do every time he got scared?

He ran away and gave you some bullshit excuse. But even then, you’d come back time and time again.

But now it is different. He told you to leave and you really did. You wouldn’t come back to him willingly.

Atsumu’s stupid. That’s why he’s at your doorstep in the rain.

He rings the doorbell. He’s shocked when you open it on the first attempt.

“What are you doing?” your quiet voice says.

Atsumu takes in your disheveled appearance. You definitely had been crying based on your swollen eyes.

“I—” Atsumu can’t find the words. He’s really scared.

“If you’re going to yell at me or ask me to come back, you better be ready to beg me Atsumu, I’m not doing a stupid “talking stage” or some cheap crap you come up with,”

“I’m sorry, I-l fucked up really bad,”

You don’t say anything in response, allowing him to continue.

“I love you so much,” he’s stuttering, “I’m really scared but I want to try with you, I want to be with you, for real this time,”

“And if I say yes, are you just going to leave me when it’s convenient for you?” your own voice sounds a bit hesitant.

“No, no. I promise you. I mean everything that’s coming out of my mouth,”

You look like you’re lost in thought for a split second before you speak. “I’ll be with you, Atsumu. For real,” you smile as you mock his words.

Another moment passes by, and before you know it, you’re kissing him and he kisses you.

———

ATSUMU MIYA HAS MADE A NEW POST.

[tsumumiya]: my person ❤️

[yn.lnnnn commented]: ughh loves it <3 ure so cute ml

>>> [tsumumiya replied]: I LOVE YOU!!!!!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #hq angst #atsumu miya x reader #ruhquest #atsumu x you

256 notes · View notes

show-your-fangs · 1 year

Note

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind.

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him.

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall.

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl.

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had.

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months.

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site.

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before.

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself.

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle.

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes.

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations.

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable.

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office.

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free.

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit.

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree.

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book.

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show.

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself.

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events.

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye.

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock.

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions.

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires.

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going.

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot.

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock.

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him.

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body.

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body.

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly.

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you.

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her.

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail.

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know.

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him.

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds.

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched.

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered.

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried.

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on.

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep.

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in.

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it.

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief.

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants.

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter.

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself.

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement.

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further.

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully.

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room.

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd.

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long.

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you.

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #show your fangs writes #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl reader #I will see you all in hell where we'll be deranged together #show your fangs hotch blurbs #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #dom hotch #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde

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hirukochan · 11 months

Note

I feel cheeky sending another ask but I lived the interrogation one so much so just 3 so words: snape sex pollen. Perhaps a professor x professor?

(Ps: is their a place that I can support your writing!!!)

Snape x Professor sex pollen coming right up 🫡

Writing is one of my many beloved hobbies; liking, reblogging, giving kudos or commenting is all the support I need! Thank you very much for asking though!

Blue Speckled Mushrooms

(Severus Snape x fem!Professor oneshot)

Words: 2572

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen :D - mutual dub-con, some biting, rough smut

Summary: In your continuing efforts to catch the grumpy Potion Master's attention you follow him into the Forbidden Forest - a mistake of perhaps destiny unfolding?

This is play post-war, Sev survives - not that it matters much to the 'plot'

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It could have been so easy. Gather these blasted Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms and return to the castle. It’s all he asks for. Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms to finish the brew currently under stasis in his office. Two plants. Just a few of each. They couldn’t be preserved through either magic or other means and had to be harvested within three hours of being used in a potion and only during a full moon.

Now usually this is no problem for an accomplished potion master such as Severus Snape. A quick trip to the forest and done. He knows the half-forgotten paths, the safe routes. Knows how to avoid the Centaurs and other nastier beasts that live in the Forbidden Forest.

He does not know how to avoid her.

Irritating, stupid girl.

She took over the History of Magic position earlier that year, one of Snape’s first students he taught after becoming a professor himself at merely twenty-one. A seventh year at the time who already stared at him in the library back when he was a student.

She just wouldn’t leave him alone!

“Midnight stroll?” She asks with that irritating smile on her stupid pretty face and follows him into the forest.

“What do you want?!” He growls at her. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, keeps sitting next to him during meals or in the staff room, talking. Always talking. Talking talking talking.

How can a single person be this annoying?

She is still talking. Jesus fucking christ!

“So anyway…what are you doing here?”

“I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.”

“Just curious, is all.” She replies. Stupid girl. And she is still following him!

You have no idea what to do anymore. You’ve tried everything. You’ve tried catching his attention by talking to him, leaving the top button of your blouse undone, batting your lashes at him like a teen on a love potion, you’ve searched his company, flirted like your stupid life depends on it and the cranky bastard doesn’t even recognise it!

You run to catch up with his long strides, wrapping your cloak around yourself to shield yourself from the cold night air.

You were about to go to bed, just finishing up your rounds through the castle on the lookout for students out of bed when you saw his billowing cloak sweep out of the entrance door. You of course followed him. Curious as to what he was going to do outside but also secretly hoping today’s the day he’ll finally notice your intentions.

Perhaps you have to be less subtle. You thought men like to be subtly seduced but Snape is not like any man you’ve known! Maybe he doesn’t like playing cat and mouse, doesn’t enjoy the chase.

You’ll be blunt! Yes, if a stroll through the forest at midnight doesn’t do the trick you’ll gather what little courage you have and just make the first step yourself. You’re an independent woman! You don’t need to wait around for Snape to realise you’re interested in him and make the first step.

“Are you gathering ingredients of sorts?” You ask and walk quicker to keep up, pressing your arm against his by walking closer to him. He glares at you.

“Obviously.” He snarls and looks forward again.

“Cool. cool cool cool….um…which ones?”

He audibly grumbles.

“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.” You smile. He is making it very hard to be attracted to him. Grumbly bastard. Prickly idiot. Why can’t he just fuck you? Shove you into a broom closet and let out his frustrations if you’re so bloody annoying to be around! Why can’t you fall head over heels for someone normal?

Because normal is boring.

Your eyes glide over his sharp jaw, every muscle tensed, about ready to snap, beneath his pale skin that shines in the moonlight.

“I said, you were a daft, simple-minded girl when I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you potions - I very much doubt you’d understand any more now than you did seventeen years ago!”

His venom cuts deep. You stumble backwards. You thought he was clumsy when it comes to socialising, that he perhaps didn’t understand your intentions, not that he loathes you.

“Oh…” You murmur. “Um…okay…” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heels and run. He calls after you but you ignore it, disappearing between the trees into the undergrowth, away from Snape because you are about to cry your eyes out like the stupid little girl he sees in you and you are not about to embarrass yourself any further than you already have! You just want to go back to your quarters.

Stupid girl! Insufferable, annoying, bothersome, foolish girl!

Snape runs after her. He considered leaving her to her own fate and capabilities and collect his ingredients but he had been cursed with a conscience. A nasty, biting thing demanding he not let her run to her death in an Acromantula den.

He’ll tear her a new one when he catches up to her! The sheer idiocy! Running into the Forbidden Forest like that! What possessed her.

“Stop running!” He snarls, draws his wand and sends a non-verbal Stupor at her. She stumbles and falls face-first into the flower field spreading over the clearing they had entered during their chase. Snape lifts his spell.

You spin around, furious. How fucking dare he? Isn’t it enough to insult you? Does he have to embarrass you by forcing you to bear your pathetic little hurt feelings to him?

He stands at the other end of the clearing, pale blue flowers reaching to his calves, emitting a gentle glow. He looks furious. The light of the full moon illuminates him from the back, deepening his already sharp features, cloaking his face and body in menacing shadows.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He snarls and points towards the direction you were running in. “Do you want to be eaten by enormous spiders?”

“Like you give a damn!” You shout and pick yourself up off the ground. Swiftly you brush loose dirt and a few pedals off your robes and out of your hair. The motherfucker stunned you!

“I might be a cold son of a bitch but I am not letting a colleague run to her death - no matter how annoying said colleague is. The way back to the castle is-” A wind picks up. His cloak flutters behind him, the fabric whispering with the motion. Pedals are ripped from the flowers.

His eyes widen.

You tilt your head to the side, brows pulled together. “Severus?”

“Stay where you are!” He hisses, sending droplets of spit flying. You look around, confused, searching the dark rows of trees for some beastly critter about to attack but you find none. Snape’s eyes are pinned to yours. His chest is heaving, his breath seems shallow. You take a step forward to which Snape instantly backs away, keeping his wand pointed at- you?

“What’s going on?”

“To the castle! Go back to the castle!”

“I am not your student! You can’t give me orders! And to think I’ve been trying to go on a date with you for months!”

“You have to go back to the castle now or- what?” His wand hand sinks a little. A crease forms between his brows. You’ve never seen Severus so puzzled.

“Year really…” You mutter. “Back in school too-”

“I am not in the mood for jokes or pranks.”

“It’s not!” You take another step forward. Severus’ back hits a tree. The wind picks up. A sweet scent reaches your nose, infiltrates your mind, swirls around your brain like vapours of a potion-

Weren’t you cold?

You were! Yes, you were- but it’s so hot- when did it get so hot?

“Stop that!” Snape snarls again.

“Stop what?” You roll your eyes and pause- your cloak lies in the flower field three steps away from you. You have unbuttoned your robes, revealing the white blouse and dark trousers underneath- when-?

“Go. back.” He has his jaw clenched, teeth pressed together. His nostrils flare, his eyes flick down to your chest and he seems to struggle to force them back up.

“Are you hot too?” Your fingers pry open the buttons of your blouse without you even noticing or you’re just not thinking about it…

“Go-”

“What’s happening?”

“Pollen-”

“What?”

“Where you shit in Herbology too?!” He snaps and you glare at him about ready to-

Your blouse slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground. “Stop- you don’t want this-”

“What? What is this?”

“A rare flower.” His voice sounds pressed, as though he’s struggling to speak, to breathe, to exist. He has his back moulded to the tree, clutching at the bark with his hands, straining to keep his eyes on your face.

The button on your trousers is open.

“The pollens they emit to the air to spread and form these dense fields- they have a unique effect on humans-”

“Which effect?”

“Can’t you tell, stupid girl?”

Your trousers push past your hips.

“You should be running from me, not stripping for me.” His eyes graze over your body, standing in front of him in only your underwear, devouring the sight. His eyes trace along the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake…Heat rushes to your core.

“Sex pollen-” You gasp, noticing you’re standing a mere arm's length away from him now.

“The rather crude colloquial name - yes.”

“Severus- what-”

“Too late, stupid girl.” He snarls and the next moment he’s on you, pouncing at you like a wild beast. His woodsy, herbal scent flows around you, mixing with the sweet smell of the damned flower. His hands grip your arms roughly, blunt nails dig into your flesh. Severus swirls you around and pushes you against the tree. Bark scratches against your skin, stabbing into it but you don’t even notice.

It’s like a trance has taken over your mind and only one thing matters.

He.

Severus’ mouth latches onto your throat. A million tiny explosions rush over your skin where he touches you and you moan, a feral sound ripped harshly from your throat, echoing over the empty clearing. Severus growls in response, even more feral, even less human. His teeth scrape over your throat. His hands roam over your body, squeezing your breasts, your thighs. Then he tears at his own clothes, shedding layer after layer with a quickness and urgency that has your head spinning.

“Stupid girl.” He repeats and kisses up to your jaw, your cheek. Heated, open-mouth kisses that leave your skin marked by his saliva.

You place your hands on his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to pull you back into reality, your head spinning, skin exploding, core hurting. You’re so aroused, so need it fucking hurts.

“Severus-” You moan. His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around him on their own accord.

“You should have run when you still had the chance.” He snarls against your lips, his breath brushes over your skin. “You’ll regret this.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you prick!”

Your lips meet in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. You’re pretty sure he bites you or perhaps you bite him. None of it matters anymore when you feel his prick against your soaked entrance. You’ve never been so wet- never so wound up- so desperate for sex-

You cry out when he enters you, a forceful thrust that buries him to the hilt in your twitching channel. He is big. Too big under different circumstances perhaps. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pounds into you, spearing you open, using his grip on your waist to bounce you on his cock in sync with each of his thrusts.

You cling to his shoulders, your nails drawing blood, fingertips running over old scars, exploring the surprisingly defined muscles of his lean stature.

Your breasts bounce, rubbing against his naked chest, his lips lay claim to yours, your face, your neck, your chest.

He stumbles, his left side giving in and you tumble to the ground. You’ve seen that happen before. The venom of you-know-who’s snake has left him with some permanent damage, not only the huge scar on his neck.

You don’t care.

You push him down to the ground, your hands on his chest and move your hips, lifting them, letting them slam back down, riding him. You throw your head back, your eyes closed, lips parted as his cock drags along your inner walls with delicious friction.

“So- so full-” You moan. Your breasts sway. Severus catches them, squeezing them with such pure delight on his usually reserved face. He twists your nipples between his fingers, revelling in the noises he coaxes from you.

“You could have had this so much sooner, idiot.” You hiss and grind down against him before lifting your hips up once again.

“Wha-?” His puzzled expression is almost cute.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for months!” As though to reinforce your discontent with his lack of romantic interest you pick up your pace. His head drops back into the flowers. The pale blue petals glow in his inky black hair.

“How was I supposed to know?” He asks, bucking up to meet your movement.

“I was flirting!”

“I thought you were acting especially stupid for some reason.”

“Arsehole!” You dig your nails into his chest but Severus seems to like that. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips part, pleasure drawn into every wrinkle of his face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“I’d have called you stupid. Perhaps laughed at you. Slip poison in your tea.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.”

Quicker than you can follow his movements you’re underneath him and your legs on his shoulders. Your head is still spinning when Severus starts pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the clearing, accompanied by your and Severus' animalistic, feral sounds of pleasure.

“I don’t-” You moan and dig your fingers into the dry soil underneath you.

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to say me neither.”

“I do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

His balls slap against your arse. His hand drops between your bodies, his fingers find your clit, run over it once- twice-

You see stars. Dots of light exploding all over your field of vision and pulling you into darkness, bringing the complex system keeping your body alive and moving to an abrupt stop. Your lungs refuse to fill with air, your brain crashes, your limbs tense, your whole body forced into a contortion made of carnal desire and the world-ending pleasure Severus Snape brings you.

You twitch. Then you inhale sharply, filling your lungs with air, shuddering, whimpering under Severus who spills inside you with an ear-splitting grunt and then slumps down above you. On top of you. Your legs found the ground somehow. His cock still inside you, throbbing, slowly softening, you lay in the dirt like a starfish, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and confused.

“Friday.” Severus murmurs, his lips brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “Dinner. Be ready on time or I’ll leave without you.”

“Mh?”

“You really are dense." He grumbles. "Your date, stupid girl. Friday.”

#snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snape x you #Severus snape x you #severus snape x professor!reader #severus snape smut #snape fandom #request #dividers by cafekitsune #sex pollen

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pinacoladaz · 1 month

Text

Roommate Sukuna shows you how to play video games!

A sly smile appears on your face when Sukuna arrives from college in the evening and slams the door, noticeably tired.

"You look like shit."

He rolls his eyes and drops the backpack, throwing himself on the individual sofa "I'm not in the mood, bastard"

Seeing Sukuna this tired was, well, abnormal, and he had been like this for a couple of weeks. Student exploitation must have been tough on his career these days.

Seeing him in that state moved something inside you, you almost wanted to hug him and cuddle with him to take the stress off of him, but hey, it was Sukuna, he probably thought that a train above him was a better relaxation technique.

You look back at the TV, thoughtful. "Hmm... well, are you in the mood of teaching me your video games?" you take a quick look at him, not wanting to be obvious in your concern, maybe he could bully you if he noticed "you told me i need to know real games, whatever that means it might put you in the mood to be unbearabl-"

"Charming" he corrects you, then processes what you just said and freaks out, making a face "why do you want me to be, anyway?"

"Why not?" you pause the TV and look at him quietly.

"Why, though?"

"Why not?"

His eye twitches and you sigh in a complaint at his murderous gaze "I am bored Su-ku-na!"

With a grunt he stands up, ruffling your hair on the way to his room. "Give me 20 minutes, i'll take a shower and turn on the PC."

Said and done, he called you 37 minutes later, because if there's one thing Sukuna absolutely has, it's a bad ability to estimate time. He doesn't seem to care, though.

When you enter his room it is a bit messy as usual, he has his back to you leaning over the computer, clicking. His hair is wet and he only has pajama pants on, no shirt; and it makes you wonder if he is aware of how shocking his appearance can be to mortals like you.

"Listen pet, you have a maximum of 20 minutes to learn how to play Fortnite, at that time my friends will call to do a group game, and you will play pretending to be me" he stands up straight and turns to look at you "understood?"

You take a moment to process his stupidity, then scoff "With all intent to offend, are you insan-"

"I'll talk, not you, i just want to know how much you can ridicule me" shrugs bending down to the computer again.

After a while of mutual insults, while you stand beside him he shows you how he plays so you have an idea of the game, which looks pretty crazy.

When you sit on the edge of his knees to do the training level, you are not even halfway through it when he takes you by the waist to make you stand up and moves the chair to take a pillow, putting it on his legs. You raise an eyebrow when he comes close to make you sit again.

"You are as low as a goblin." He explains neutrally, bordering on the line of mockery, screaming internally at God for you to know nothing about the barely concealable erection between those pajamas.

You follow the training, and you do horribly, the high sensitivity of the character is lame, the lack of aim and of the ability to make many movements at once is also lame. Sukuna puts his hands on yours trying to facilitate the learning process, which actually distracts you and does the opposite.

"No no, hold it like this" he leans close to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder "slower... mhm, yeah"

Even if you made the stupidest of achievements, he would still mutter things.

"You learn fast"

You thank God that you are turning your back on him so he doesn't notice your ridiculous blush, and the most fucked up part is that you don't even notice a malicious note in his tone, it's purely teaching.

There you consider the church your mother mentioned.

Before you notice it it's already time for the group call and you're STRESSED with a big S; in contrast Sukuna sounds amused every time he points out an advice to you "It's just a game, brat, have fun"

"I don't know Ryomen, who will be on the call?"

He stays silent for a moment. "Choso, Yuji and i don't know if Gojo has time, why the concern?" he hits you on the head with his finger "Do you like any of them?"

The audacity.

"Isn't Gojo the one you threatened to kill a while ago? And actually- actually what the fuck! Why do you relate everything with me liking someon-"

The conversation is interrupted by the call notification, Sukuna answers by putting two fingers on your mouth so that you shut up.

After a scandalous greeting and a confirmation of Gojo's participation, the game starts, not even three minutes have passed when they are already throwing shit at Sukuna.

"Why are you so useless? you had it literally in front of you??? what the fuck Sukuna" Although Gojo started out mocking, he ended up insulting him (or you lmao) mercilessly.

"Why are you going to the other side? pick up the box, ASSHOLE!" Yuji was getting anxious, and so did you, Sukuna only made excuses saying that the wifi was weak while pinching you, amused, and Choso said nothing for a while, but at some point finally spoke.

"Bro why are you playing like you're gay."

There was a moment of silence which was broken by the screams of Gojo and Yuji, taking advantage of the moment you made a sign to Sukuna that you gave up.

"Be gentle, dickheads" Sukuna murmurs in a mock taking control of the PC, but without taking you off, his arms simply surrounded you "there's a lady present"

a/n: sorry, i'm really bad at video games, i don't know anything about them, i gave it my all🙏🏻

#sukuna ryomen #jjk #choso kamo #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #sukuna x reader

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gisellaaa · 10 months

Text

i never doubted your loyalty once; until you decided that being loyal meant hurting your lover

af11 | after many conversations with the fantilli family, you decided to make one last attempt to reach out to adam.

"Come on, Y/N." Luca pleaded, staring down at your in your dorm. "I don't know why you think it's a bad idea." Luca crossed his arms over his chest. Your uncertain gaze just stared at him, silence following his words. "Give me on good reason, then I'll leave it alone."

"He hates me, Luca." You stated, voice low. "Me and Adam are done, there's nothing left."

"Bullshit--dude I was the one who listened to him after you guys broke up--he doesn't hate you!" Luca quickly replied, his hands flailing up. "I'll give you my Bio notes for a whole month, even the rest of the semester."

"I don't want your notes, be so for real Luca." You cracked a smile, rolling your eyes. "What if I do it, right? Then he plays like shit on his first game, then he get's even more angry at me." You conjured up the false scenario.

"He's bound to play like shit anyways!" Luca retaliated, he was begging you at this point. "No one plays good on their debut."

"The answer is no, Luca. Now go, I know you have workouts in twenty." You got up from the desk chair, shooing Luca out of your dorm.

"But-"

"No, Luca! Go!" You pushed him gently out of your dorm. You shut the door in his face, avoiding anymore pleading from him. Once you heard his footsteps walk away from the door, you let out a deep breath, leaning your forehead against the door.

There was no way you were recording a video for this montage.

Your break up with Adam was far too fresh, still painful in your heart, and probably his. It wasn't a mutual breakup either, in fact, neither of you wanted to break up. Your last argument was one that couldn't leave your head. It didn't leave during the silent times in class, when you were trying to sleep, or in the warm afternoons where there was silent.

It racked your brain.

"So, Ohio?" You spoke, watching Adam tug at the roots of his hair. He had been pacing around the hotel room since you guys got back. "What are we going to do, Y/N?" Adam abruptly spoke, standing in front of you.

The question took you aback, shocked that he would ask that. "What do you mean?" You tilted your head in confusion. "I mean, we can barely go three hours without being around each other. Now we are going to be hundreds of miles away from each other."

You quickly stood from the bed, anxious nerves filling your brain. "Adam--what--no, what?" You stuttered out. "We'll be able to work it out, it's not like your in California!"

"I know, I know. But still, I don't want it to cause problems between us. It'll make being away from you worse." Adam sighed, attempting to reach out and grab you hand. You quickly pulled yours away. "The fuck-"

"Why does it seem like you've already made this decision?" You stated, glaring at Adam. "Why does it seem like you've made this decision before we came here? Have you been thinking about leaving me?"

"The way your saying it is making me look like a shitty guy." Adam rolled his eyes, taking a step back from you. "Then tell me, Adam! Enlighten me about how I'm supposed to be saying this!" You shouted, a hand running through your hair.

"I mean, Y/N, we thought I was going to Anaheim. That's across the fucking country. You are telling me that thought never crossed you mind? You are telling me that the thought of distance breaking us up didn't cross your mind?" Adam spoke, his voice laced with sadness.

"Did you really think I was going to leave and that we were going to be perfectly fine?" Adam added, his eyes staring into your watering ones.

"No, I guess not." You spoke softly, tears falling down your face. "But I didn't think it was going to cause us to break up, Adam. I thought we would figure out a way to work things out. I really thought that." You shook your head, anger filling your voice once more.

"Then I think you were being naive about this." Adam deadpanned, venom lacing his voice.

"Adam, god you can call me naive, you can say I was being selfish or stupid. But, sorry for truly thinking that a three year relationship wouldn't go down the drain because you were going into the NHL. I'm sorry I didn't spend my nights wondering how we were going to end like you did. Fuck you, I hope you are lonely in Columbus. I won't be here when you wake up." You seethed, grabbing your things to rush out of his hotel room. You didn't forget to slam the door on the way out.

That night, you slept in Luca's room, crying as hard as you could.

You weren't expecting for Luca to ask you to be in the montage, you especially weren't expecting for Julia Fantilli to call you up. She encouraged you to make a small video, even if it was five seconds, she knew it would resonate with him in the slightest bit.

So, here you sat on your bed. Your phone leaning against a filled water bottle on your nightstand. It took twenty-nine tries, to be exact. At try fifteen, you had to plan out what you were going to say on a index card.

You sent the clip off to Luca, adding a small message with it. Now you just had to wait the three days until October 12, hoping this video wouldn't cause Adam to play like shit in his debut.

Adam knew a few of his family members and old teammates were creating something for him to watch on his birthday. He did not know that your face would pop up on the screen.

After watching a video of him from when he was younger, then Brindley, then Seamus, then his grandparents, then his brother, then his parents, he figured the video was over.

Then your face popped onto the screen.

"Hi Adam!" You spoke, your voice quiet. He recognized the surroundings quickly. You were in your dorm room at Michigan, the familiar posters from last year were still hung up on your wall. Except this time, pictures of you and Adam were missing.

Adam already had tears in his eyes, especially after watching the video from his brother. You were the last person he was expecting to be in the montage.

"I wanted to say happy birthday, and congratulations on your NHL debut. I know you probably weren't expecting this from me, but here I am." It was like you knew exactly what would be flowing through Adam's mind when you created this video.

"I'm so proud at how far you've came. I knew when I met you a long time ago you would do big things. Now, I'm sure you'll do even greater things." Your voice pained Adam more than he ever imagined. You sounded different, your voice was more sad and quiet than usual.

"I miss having you around in Michigan. I have no one to rant to about BioChem and Taylor Swift. But I know you are doing great things in Columbus. Good luck Adam, I love you." Then the video cut off.

Adam ran his hands down his face, his body feeling empty and heavy. He wasn't sure what greater god did this to knock some sense into his brain, but Adam knew he needed to fix this.

Adam had to fix it all.

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #adamfantilli #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli

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neo-percs · 1 year

Text

PASS IT:: (mark Lee)

WARNING:: smut, riding, smoking (weed), oral (m!receiving), overstimulated, hair pulling, high sex, mutual pining, unprotected sex, creampie.

SUMMARY:: agreeing to teach your friend how to smoke weed was one thing, blowing smoke into his mouth to soften the blow was a whole different thing.

WORDCOUNT:: 4.5k of pure smut with no plot.

A/N:: the grammar in this is atrocious and I’m not reading anything over for spelling mistakes or anything like that so my bad yall😭🤞🏽

The warm lights that engulfed your bedroom lit by one singular small lamp on your desk had set a peaceful mood for the night as your rolling tray and wraps sat on your bed and the feint music playing leaves you utterly relaxed as you are; sitting next to Mark who's been watching you try and roll your blunt. Your lips twitch as you hold a laugh as you feel his eyes burn into the side of your face. "Is there something you need?" You ask as you pick up your lighter letting the flame engulf the sealed blunt.

"How do you smoke without hurting your lungs?" He asks, pointing down at your hands. You laugh at his curiosity "over time really I just got used to it, but there are ways to have smoke hit your throat softly" you say nonchalantly as you finally light the blunt letting smoke emit from the head your lips attach to the opposite end. "How? I've seen people just smoke weed to the face" he asks with a slight curve in his eyebrow.

Letting the smoke fall past your lips you look over at him who looks absolutely immersed in the topic of conversation. "Shotgunning, you blow smoke into someone else's mouth and they inhale" you say absentmindedly as you continue to smoke. "You wanna try it? You can say no, weed isn't for everyone" you shrug. Mark took it as a challenge, he's never been one to smoke weed but he wasn't exempt from the idea, he's been to many house parties and seen his friends get high off their asses but he was more likely to get drunk than high.

"Yeah" he nods moving closer to your side of the bed, his back presses against the headboard. He looked almost eager to do it. "Don't hold it in for too long or you might actually end up burning your throat" you say before taking a long drag inhaling your hand reaches to his jaw almost startling him as he meets your eyes, leaning in until your noses graze each other's Mark's lips part as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.

Blowing the smoke past your lips he can feel the warm smoke hit his lips as he follows your instructions inhaling the smoke. Pulling away slightly you can feel your eyes becoming heavy with a sense of calmness rushing over your body. Letting out a soft high Mark watches the thin cloud of smoke disappear into the air.

"Can we do that again?" He asks as he feels the tension grow thick inside the room between the both of you. "Mhm" you only nod taking a bigger hit from the blunt than last time the slight burn in your throat was nothing to you as you pull closer to Mark not realizing how your lips were grazing his as you purse your lips against his already parted one's blowing in the smoke.

As your eyes meet you can see how his pupils expand in size as he holds his breath. Pulling away resting your hand in your lap lazily as you feel your body buzz and you could feel your body becoming heavier and your breathing becoming more heavier. "Is my body supposed to feel like this?" Mark slightly slurs, making you grin at the slight drop in his voice.

"How does it feel?" You ask as you look over at him who looked absolutely high, low eyes that looked red, his hair becoming more frizzy than before due to his head being pushed against the headboard. "Heavy" he says, making you laugh and nod, earning a small laugh out of him as well. "Do you wanna keep going or are you done?" You ask not wanting to push him too far beyond his limit.

"Keep going" he says breathily, the words making your stomach churn with an unknown feeling coming over you. "Okay" you say, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. Continuing with your previous advances a few more times and each time becoming more touchy than the last as you both never rip your eyes away from each other.

Mark hadn't realized how pretty you were until you got so close and it made him feel things that were like an unknown territory for him. "Can I...try it on you?" He asks as he hears how hoarse his voice has become and almost loses faith in it. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his brown ones that looked heavy and red, nodding slowly.

The blunt now in his grasp and between his lips he takes a drag out of it, moving closer until you feel his thigh press against yours. Mark meets your gaze as his hand reaches out to cup your cheek almost as if he was going to kiss you and he makes your heart beat soar.

Your noses press against each other as you part your lips Mark moves closer to the point your lips are grazing. Blowing the warm smoke against your mouth you inhale deeply as your eyes never leave his. Exhaling you don't move an inch as you can see Mark's pupils are blown out and dark.

He was too enamored with how good you looked close up to even realize what's going on around him. "This was a bad idea wasn't it?" You whisper against his lips he can feel your breath against his skin giving him goosebumps. "Really fucking bad" he agrees huskily. "We shouldn't be this close...right?" He asks this time, making the corner of your lips twitch to fight a smile. "We shouldn't but I don't think either of us want to move '' you shake your head.

"What are we supposed to do?" He whispers feeling tense as his breathing becomes heavier. You don't answer. You just move closer, your legs slowly hook over his thighs until you're perched in his lap. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as his hand move to your waist. Finally gathering the words in your mind "I don't know what we're doing, but I don't want to stop" you finally answered.

Mark raises his hand to cup your jaw as his thumb glides against your cheek. You shutter at the feeling of his warm hand on your cold skin. Shuffling until his back is pressed firmly against the headboard Mark debates if he really wants to go through with this.

But the look on your face, eyes low and red, glossed over, your hair sticking up and against the sides of your face. And your lips, they looked so soft and sweet. Mark then fully decided he wanted to close the gap between you and he had no room for hesitation. His nose brushes against your as his breath is labored over your skin sending goosebumps.

With his lips sealed over your Mark reached over to the small lid of a candle and presses the burning tip into the glass letting the smoke disperse again into the hair joining the never ending cloud that seemed to have grow within the walls of your bedroom.

"I think I know why Johnny told me to never let you smoke" you say just above a whisper and it has marked eyebrows peeking up at the piece of information. "Why's that?" He asks truly wanting to know what you meant although he could care less about what Johnny said in the moment he was hooked on your every word.

"Because you look so fucking good like this" your lips brush against his making Mark twitch within the confinements of his pants. Closing the gap Mark steals the breath from your lungs kissing off the taste of your chapstick that had been left on your lips and the taste of weed. The kiss was slow and experimental, slowly turning more confident his hands travel to grip your thighs to ground himself.

Without realizing your hands grip his hair as you let out small moans against his lips not parting away from each other too much, Mark was starting to think he was addicted to the small sounds you make. His hands guide your hips to grind against him. "Fuck" he groans against your mouth gripping your shirt tight pulling away his eyes latch on to the sight of you dragging your warmth against his covered cock making him catch his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Feels so good" you whine as your hips press down harder hoping to get all the friction you can. Mark presses his forehead against yours, gasping heavily at the pleasure that overcomes him in waves. "Wait- I don't wanna cum like this" he huffs you pull away feeling slightly edged as the feeling of built up pleasure begins to fade and you almost whine at the loss.

Moving out of Mark's lap you could see how painfully hard he looked. The look on his face showed he was so wrapped up in his own pleasure and it made your mouth water. "Can I suck you off?" You mumble, Mark can only nod dumbly at you as he anticipates the warmth of your mouth wrapped around his cock and it turns him on beyond belief.

Your hand slides against his Jean clad thighs, Mark can’t help the twitching of his legs from the feather light touches on his skin poking out from the rips in his pants. You smirk as your fingers undo the button and zipper. His boxers peeking out the gap of his opened pants, pushing his shirt to bunch at his chest Mark holds it there showing off his feint abs and a small happy trail that disappears within his pants.

“Fuck you’re so hot” you say under your breath earning a small laugh from him. His eyes look almost irritated yet he seemed almost too joyed with his current situation to care. Your fingers dig under the elastic waistband tugging it down his hips awkwardly before he lifts them as an aid to get them off faster. Kicking them off his ankle they fall onto the wooden floor with a small shuffling sound.

Your eyes drag over him, his hair a mess with puffy lips and red eyes, his shirt bunched up in his grasp tightly, his cock resting against lower stomach, almost begging for attention. You don’t miss the way his breathing slows down and is more audible and shaky. Moving lay on your stomach Mark almost shys away at your deep stare but he resorts to confidently pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

You smile at him before pressing a harsh kiss to his tip, reacting almost instantly with a hiss at the sudden feeling. His tip was blushed and sticky with precum, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of taking him down your throat. you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his dick into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb. Your other hand resting on his thigh you feel him twitch the squelching sound of your spit and precum rubbing against his dick makes your thighs clench.

The feeling of you rubbing his tip against your tongue having sent a shiver up his thighs you had a pretty firm grip on. His fingers pull at your hair a little tighter leaving a small sting that excites you. Mark likes this view of you hovering over his lower half, he could only imagine how good a view it would be with his cock stuffed down your throat.

Puckering your lips you press small kisses and his base and up his shaft until you reach his blushed tip, licking a stripe of saliva against his slit had his thighs quiver "fuck" he groaned feeling your lips envelope his tip slowly taking him in your warm mouth,your hand still at his base jerking him off Mark closes his eyes as his hand pushes your head down furthe.

He's big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is a plaguing reminder. but you don't mind it too much, you like the thought of him when he's all deep in your throat, and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat. it makes you gag, and choke, and your eyes get cloudy with tears to the point they spill over, but it's worth it. It's worth it without fail.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess.

the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been thinking about all day. this was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate.

he can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.

Flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip, he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back and his breathing was labored.

you rubbed your thighs together as warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger. You could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes were closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him. Mark let his hand guide your head to bob while you hollow your cheeks, Mark was losing his mind at the feeling.

Breathing through your nose you could barely breath as Mark bucked his hips into your mouth, losing himself in the feeling of your warm mouth. Spitting on his tip you use your tongue to spread it, earning a moan as his pats become tugs when your lips wrap around his and you push your head down relaxing your throat you feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

Pushing your head down further you relax your throat taking him deeper until your nose hits his pelvis. Tears cloud your eyes as you almost gag, pulling your head back just a bit you take a deep breath through your nose and begin to bob your head.

You moan as you feel him buck his hips into your throat. "Feels good," he said as you continued to take him in your mouth slurping and bobbing your head, all without hands you were heaven-sent. The feeling bubbling at the pit of his stomach doubles every time “don’t stop” he groans, making you speed up your pace as his balls are greeted with a squeeze from your hand. He was approaching his orgasm as his hips buck into your throat relentlessly you gag with each thrust. Tears spilled past your lashes and down your saliva-covered cheeks.

The groans made your pussy ache so you clenched your thighs closed. Sounds of groans buzzing in his chest you couldn't help but let out gags and moans at the fucked man below you tears pricked your eyes again but you blink them away and continue taking him. He felt so good your warm and wet mouth was doing it but when you hollow your cheeks. Your hand that was at his base continued to move leaving him to buck his hips into your warm and wet cavern.

You gag as he repeatedly lets his tip meet the back of your throat yet you never pull away. "You take it so fucking- good" he slurs feeling himself twitch, your moans muffled sending vibrations to his dick making him shutter. a string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with a level roughness. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his balls.

he can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

Pulling your head away Mark looked down at you seeing your spit mixed with his cum on your cheeks, chin and lips, your breathing was in shambles as you cleared your throat letting your hand touch your jaw that had been aching. Mark's eyes darken looking at you and wiped away all the fluids on your face.

“Fuck” he breathes heavily making you smile as you pull away from his lap, your hand presses against the mattress holding your weight as you lean to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Slowly pulling away Mark chases your lips. Smirking once more as he pulls you by the back of his neck to meet him to close the gap.

lips smacking against Marks, his lips tracing your, you feel his tongue lick a stripe against your bottom lip begging for entry and granting him that your tongues brush against each other tangling together you moan against his lips completely intoxicated on the feeling.

Without breaking the kiss Mark pushes you on your back gently as his hands travel down past your navel to the hand of your shorts his fingers mimic yours pulling your shorts and underwear down past your hips you lift your hips letting him shed the pile of fabric somewhere in the room.

Not wanting to, Mark pulls back from the kiss shedding his shirt as you follow suit with your bra as well. His heavy hands grope your naked breasts, his lips wrapping around your nipple as his free hand pinches the other. Your head falls back at the small waves of pleasure coming over you. You moan at the feeling of him growing hard against your upper thigh.

Groaning as he leaves messy kisses across your chest you grow impatient, your hand slithers between the both of your body’s wrapping around his cock. Pressing his tip against your folds Mark lets out what sounds like growl as the wetness that sticks to his cock. He felt dizzy yet confident as he grinds his hips against yours, the sticky sound of his cock making friction against your aching pussy makes your eyes fall shut letting out a breathy moan.

Mark’s eyes never leave your face as he adjusts himself, pressing himself slowly into your walls watching your thighs jerk together around his waist. The burning feeling against your walls as he fills you to the brim as your fingers gripping at the sheets waiting for it to subside. “Fuck you for being so big” you sigh as the feeling fades and the pleasure builds, liking how much he stuffed you with his cock. “Should I be offended or happy?” He teases.

“Just fuck me” You groan hoping needs are met. Mark doesn’t answer, only pulling out until his tip is just barely inside before thrusting back into you gently hoping not to hurt you. The both of you are moaning at the feeling. Mark dropping his head into your neck sucking on your skin hoping to paint red spots all over the bare and empty space as a plaguing reminder of this moment.

“Is sex supposed to feel this good while high?” He rasps as his pace becomes steady with the sound of you gushing around him and skin on skin fills the air that isn’t clouded with smoke and moans. You whimper at the harsh thrusts that make your headboard smack against the drywall. Legs caging Mark’s hips bringing him deeper, you thought you could see stars as your jaw slacks letting out a string of curses.

One hand balancing his weight over top of you Mark presses the other to your lower stomach as he meets your eyes “do you feel me?” He asks as his hips snap roughly into you pounding you against the mattress. Only dependent on movements you nod eagerly at the repetitive wave of pleasure that crashes over you and slinks back.

“Fuck, Mark” you chant his name with praise hoping this feeling would never go away. “That’s it, just like that” he coos at your already so fucked out expression; brows scrunched together as your eyes could barely stay open, messy hair and swollen lips. “Feels so good” you whine as you look down to see where you two are connected, gasping at the sight as strings of slick sticking to marks pubic bone as he thrusts eagerly to make you finish.

“Yeah? I just wanna make you cum. Can you do that for me?” He asks although it was rhetorical he was going to make you finish first with no doubt in his mind. You can only moan breathily as you nod in a euphoric daze of pleasure. His hips drive into yours as Mark builds an intense pace, you feel him in places any other guy you’ve slept with wished they could reach.

Your choking on your words as your eyes roll to the back of your head as Marks nails dig into your thigh clutching you close not wanting to let go. The sounds you make, how you look, and smell; it was all so overwhelming for Mark, yet he wouldn’t stop. Letting his head fall into the nape of your neck leaving wet kisses across your skin.

The tight feeling in the pit of your stomach doubles each time you feel his cock sink into you, your hand grasping his hair as the other rakes down his back leaving behind red trails in the shape of your nails. “Fuck you feel so good” he moans and you would do just about anything to earn that sound from him again. Like music your ears you clench around him loving the sounds you get out of him.

Your fingers grip his faded blue hair tightly as you feel his hips drive into your thighs as the wet smacking sound coming from between you sloshes loudly. Had it not been for how fucking good it felt you would’ve been embarrassed. But you don’t. You can only moan as your head falls back against the pillow watching the ceiling fan as it was still.

Mark holds your waist when the pleasure makes your legs start to shake and you squirm under him, helping you maintain that sloppy but rewarding pace that had splotches of white appear in your vision. “God—fuck” you whine as you feel Mark position his hips that hits your walls with undeniable wave of pleasure that makes you almost scream. “Mark- please” you beg, though you had no idea what it was that you wanted Mark pulls away from your neck pressing his lips over yours.

A sheen of sweating growing on your skin making you both stick together. Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the gut wrenching feeling of his cock hitting all the places you need it to. Your makeup is smeared and ruined and there was no coming back from it now. As your hair sticks to your face Mark shifts his weight onto his thighs as the two of you are no longer chest to chest, grappling onto the back of your knees he pulls what is almost deadweight over his shoulders.

Kissing at your calf and ankle as he pounds you into the mattress. Your eyesight blurs to the point you can only focus on Mark as the growing intensity at the pit of your stomach feels like a knot that’s slowly starting to unravel and if pulled hard enough would snap. “I’m so close” you moan as reach for his hands that hold onto your thighs using you at this point as his own leverage to get off.

Your fingers interlock “cum all over my cock, you can do that hm?” He says his pace becomes unforgiving, Mark can feel himself getting closer to the edge of an orgasm and he refuses to dive off that cliff alone. He needs you to finish first or all of these efforts would seem to be all for nothing. Mark refuses that outcome as his free hand slithers between your thighs his thumb presses against your clit rubbing harsh circles that makes your head spin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s so much” you babble out with a string of curses the feeling of extra stimulation has your thighs quivering as your lungs burned. You realize sex with Mark Lee was better than any drug you could get your hands on, choking out a gasp as that awaited feeling of a tingle runs through your body making your jaw slack, Mark roughens his pace as his cock twitches at the vice grip you have around him. Moans sync almost like song as Mark is set off by you finishing brings him own release.

The orgasm is life changing, it leaves him short on breath as he grips tighter on your hand, like an artist prepping a canvas with white paint mark spills his load into you weakly thrusting into you letting the creeping feeling of overstimulation die out. Your eyes shut tightly hoping this level of pleasure not slips your mind. Mark pushes your legs off his shoulder only to lean into you peppering kisses across your collar bone and neck before pressing one single chaste kiss to your lips.

“Fuck what Johnny said we should’ve done this a long time ago” Mark says with an attitude now remembering what his older friend had said in regards to consumption of drugs and it makes you snort. “And we still come to the conclusion of what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” You gripe feeling yourself beginning to sober up. “I like this, and I want to keep doing this if you’ll let me” Mark says his voice his hoarse and not as loud as it should be but his confidence was somewhat hidden away.

“I’d like that” you whisper as the warm feeling sprouting across your chest has you pressing a palm to your chest out of concern. “Let’s clean up, and then we can talk about it okay?” He says with a comforting tone and a grin to match. God Mark Lee could do just about anything with that goofy grin on his face and make you weak in the knees.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#mark smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #mark x reader #mark hard hours #nct127 smut #mark imagines #mark scenarios

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theunsinkableship1 · 28 days

Text

This is no ordinary LOVE.

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Skip this if you're not a shipper. This is only my point of view. No harm intended

Amidst recent events and news, many in the Lukola fandom have started to reconsider their stance on this ship. While I understand the confusion these events have caused, I want to share why I still ship them and why I remain aboard.

Firstly, this is my first and only ship, and it will likely be the last one. I’ve witnessed many relationships unfold, I’ve been in relationships, attended beautiful weddings, and seen happy, healthy marriages and relationships endure the test of time. I’ve observed deep connections between people, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It might sound silly or even a bit offensive to the people in my life, but I’ve never seen love like what I see in Lukola, and I’ve fallen deeply for them.

Like many of us, I discovered Polin during the confinement days. I instantly loved their cute chemistry, as the friends-to-lovers trope is my favorite. I fell for Polin first, read the book, and was eager for their season. After the first season of Bridgerton, I started following only Nicola, my favorite from the Derry Girls cast also. Then came Season 2, and I really liked Luke and the unique chemistry he and Nicola shared. There was something different about it, and I found myself watching their interviews. They were so adorable in "Amours ou Petits Fours" that I started following Luke Newton too.

I wasn’t shipping them yet because Luke was in a serious, real relationship at the time, one that was also worth rooting for. But when that ended, the idea of Nicola and Luke together began to grow in my heart. Their interactions were sweet, and their evident chemistry bled into everything they did together. I was a casual shipper until that photo of them after his play made me truly invested and hopeful. Then came the press tour in January, every interview, every interaction between them only strengthened what I was feeling. I fell for Lukola even harder.

What I saw, I can’t unsee. This has taken up a significant and unexpected place in my life. It feels different from anything else; I don’t usually follow celebrities this closely. I have always maintained a respectful distance and never invested myself like this. I’m not sure how I got here, but I know it’s not meaningless. There’s a reason for this pull, and while I don’t know exactly what that reason is, I believe it’s because I sense the love between them, it transcends the screen and radiates in my heart, deep and intensely beautiful.

I consciously joined the fandom to see if I was the only one feeling this way, and it’s clear I’m not. My perception of the reality might be altered, but I believe in what I see. Even if they choose to identify as friends, I believe that what they have is love.

Real, pure, and rare love, a powerful force that transcends time and circumstances. It isn’t rushed or forced; instead, it unfolds naturally, growing deeper as both people learn and grow together. This kind of love is built on genuine connection, mutual respect, and shared values, creating a bond that withstands the ups and downs of life.

Why does it matter? Because pure love brings out the best in each person, allowing them to be their true selves without fear of judgment. It’s not about grand gestures but the quiet, consistent presence that reassures and supports. This love matters because it’s authentic and unwavering, offering comfort and joy that can't be easily shaken.

Such love, though rare, finds its way when the time is right. It doesn't conform to external pressures or expectations; it simply exists, patient and steadfast. When allowed to flourish in its own time, this kind of love creates something beautiful and lasting, reminding us that the best things in life are often worth waiting for. As someone who hopes to see Lukola flourish, there’s a special kind of joy in watching two people whose bond transcends their characters on screen, finding connection and harmony in real life. It’s about witnessing moments of genuine affection, support, and camaraderie that hint at something deeper, something real.

This kind of love is worth cherishing and believing in because it reminds us of the beauty that exists in a World that can feel harsh and cold, in a reality that is disheartening and disappointing. It’s the unspoken looks, the shared laughter, and the way they uplift each other in subtle, bold and meaningful ways.

Hoping for Lukola to come to fruition isn’t just about a fandom fantasy, it’s about rooting for a connection that feels authentic, organic, and rare. It’s about believing that what we see is not just a projection of our hopes but a reflection of something real and beautiful that can grow stronger with time.

True love doesn’t need to rush; it will come to fruition when both people are ready to embrace it fully.

If we choose to stay in this Fandom, we’ll have to act very demurely and very mindfully. If this love is meant to be, it will find its way, blossoming when the time is right, and that is a story worth waiting for.

#lukola #lukolaland

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goatcheesecak3 · 4 months

Note

How about Adam x reader who were dating before the trap, maybe got into a fight, but Adam lives because that’s definitely what happened and they find each other.

Also ur NSFW hcs were good so feel free to sprinkle some spice if you see fit :)

Lost and found

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader

Fic type: angst, fluff

Warnings: missing person, medically induced coma

A/n: hello!! Thank you for your request, it was such a cute idea!! There's no nsfw because I couldn't find a way for it to fit into this story, but while we're on the topic I just wanna give a message to anyone who saw my Adam nsfw hcs!! I originally posted the unfinished version by accident, but I've gone back and added more to them since! So make sure you're all caught up on those, in my very biased opinion they're extremely canon teehee :^) all can be found in my masterlist as usual

You and Adam had dated for two years before finally ending it about a month ago. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, epic highs followed by epic lows. Being with Adam could be so wonderful at times, the way he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, the way he would have you folded in on yourself laughing. Your memory was filled with long nights spent talking and falling deeper and deeper in love. Adam was good with his words, which was a blessing and a curse- he could make your heart flutter just as easily as he could crush it. Arguments were frequent, and volatile, he always took things too far. Deciding that this was no way to live, with heavy hearts, the two of you called it quits.

You'd heard around from mutual acquaintances that he'd gotten into a pretty rough spot after the breakup, apparently he'd become some kind of stalker for hire? Like a private investigator but with absolutely no credentials or regard for his or anyone else's safety. It didn't exactly surprise you that he'd gone into a somewhat shady line of work, considering his lack of high school diploma there weren't really many options for him, you wished you could help, but you'd both agreed to keep your distance and move on.

One day however, you couldn't help but break the promise you'd made to yourself, and you asked about him. You'd run into his best friend, Scott at a video store, and despite all your restraint, the words tumbled out of your mouth:

"How's Adam been lately?"

"Pfft how should I know? I haven't spoken to that asshole since he totally bailed on my band photoshoot" Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes disinterestedly.

It wasn't like Adam to turn down paid work of any kind, so you decided to pry deeper,

"What do you mean? He just didn't show up?"

"Yeah, no call, no nothing. He hasn't spoken to anyone. Probably thinks he's too good for me and the guys now with his investigator bullshit, but lemme tell y-"

"Wait, he's actually doing that?! That's so dangerous, you don't think he's gotten himself into trouble do you?"

"I don't know, I got my own shit to worry about. Besides, no one bails on me and gets my sympathy. Scott Tibbs don't chase, baby." He said, all too loudly. You could practically see his ego bulging out of his head.

As you left the video store, the interaction played on your mind. After you and Adam had broken up, Scott was pretty much the only person in his life, and he didn't seem to give two hoots about Adam's wellbeing. Essentially, there wasn't a single person on earth who'd heard anything from Adam in the last week, and no one seemed to be trying to find him. You knew his family were estranged, and pretty much everyone else in his life were all acquaintances at best. If he was in trouble, it was up to you to help.

You headed to his apartment, just to see if he was home. Best case scenario he was, and you got some of your cds back, worst case.. well, you didn't wanna think about that.

You crept up the creaky mildewy staircase of his apartment complex until you reached his floor. Something in your gut felt wrong as you got closer to his door, something that you couldn't quite understand. It wasn't fear, it was overwhelming dread. You always thought there was a big difference between those two feelings; fear was wondering if something bad would happen, and dread was knowing in your heart that it would.

You knocked on his door and waited a beat. Nothing. For whatever reason, a voice in your head told you to try the door handle, and to your surprise, it was unlocked. Adam's apartment looked frozen in time, a half eaten bowl of mouldy noodles sat on his coffee table, an empty beer bottle next to it. Everything looked untouched. That was until your eyes made their way to the floor next to his closet- his camera. Smashed to pieces, and left strewn all over the floor. Your eyes darted up toward his redroom, which appeared to have been ransacked.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You repeated over and over in your head like a mantra.

Your first thought was that someone he'd been stalking had caught him, followed him home to destroy any damning evidence, then deal with Adam.

Panic set in at this moment, as you rushed through his apartment, desperately hoping he was just passed out somewhere.

"Adam?! Adam?!" You cried out, to no avail.

Of course, the second you had regained enough composure to remember to do so, you called the police and filed a missing person's report. The next few days were filled with police interviews, cutting out and sticking the few pictures of Adam you had onto missing person's posters and plastering them all over the city. You handed them out to anyone who would take them, you gave them to all the venues and corner shops that Adam often went to, and you hounded the police relentlessly.

Sure, Adam was your ex, but my god how you had loved him, how you still loved him. You were the only person in his life who loved him, and you refused to give up.

After 6 never ending days, your phone rang. It was a call from the police.

"We've found a young man fitting Adam's description on the outskirts of the city. He's currently in the hospital in a medically induced coma while the staff tend to his injuries. As he is unable to identify himself at this time, we would greatly appreciate it if you could come down and identify him for us" the voice from the phone said.

This was like music to your ears, you tried not to get your hopes up, but you just knew it was him. It had to be, you could feel it in your heart.

As you stood by the bed of the man, you fell to your knees and wept. He was far skinner, his skin pale and almost translucent, his hair tangled and dirty- but there was no doubt about it, that was your Adam.

"That's him! That's my baby! Oh my god, that's my Adam!" You sobbed, clutching into the police office for support. He looked happy for you.

...

After a few days, Adam woke up. He was by no means in good shape, but he was alert, he was safe, and he was asking for you. He'd had to speak to police before he could have any visitors, but they'd assured him that you had done a great deal to help them find him, and he was touched.

"I thought I was gonna die in that room.."

"You probably would have, if y/n hadn't tried to find you"

"No one else reported me?"

The cop shook his head solemnly.

"Damn... I gotta see her, i- I gotta thank her, i-"

He rambled like this for a while, until he was assured that you were able to come visit him.

...

"Hey, sugar" Adam smiled cockily, despite how weak he was.

You approached the chair next to his bed and reached down to stroke his face lovingly.

"That didn't sound very ex boyfriend of you" You teased.

"Aw come onnnn, I nearly die and you still don't want me back?" He whined, giving you a playful pout.

You chuckled and kissed his forehead,

"I basically saved your life, don't get greedy"

Adam's eyes narrowed, and he looked uncertain, "wait.. are you saying you actually don't wanna get back together?"

You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek,

"Of course not dummy, I just like watching you squirm"

Adam mustered all of his strength to lift his arms and place his hands on your cheeks, pulling your face towards his.

"You're such a bitch" he mumbled against your lips with a smile

"You're a bitch" you giggled back.

The playful teasing went on for a while, until you were sat in a love filled silence, just holding eachother's hands. Adam was the first to break the silence.

"I'm a changed man, you know, y/n"

"Huh?"

"While I was in that room, you were all I could think about. I kept thinking about all the times I hurt you and I knew I needed to make it right. I made a vow to myself that i was gonna get out of there, and I was gonna get you back... and I was gonna love you the way you deserve to be loved. I'm gonna do that, y/n. I'm gonna prove I deserve to be with you, even if it takes a lifetime... which it probably will now that you basically saved my life"

"Yeah, it's gonna be pretty difficult to level that playing field" you smiled jokingly.

"I mean it, y/n," Adam said, his voice serious, "I promise I'm going to devote the rest of my life to loving you, it's the least I could do".

And several happy years later, he's kept that promise.

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hereforhalstead · 1 year

Text

CPD Gala

*GIF NOT MINE, full credit to the owner*

Requested?: Nope! Wanted to get something posted now I'm back :)

• Warnings: N/A

• Summary: Jay reminds you of the annual CPD gala but knows it's not your idea of fun

Words: 1,321

• A/N : I’m not gonna apologise again for being gone as god knows how many of these I post with that intro but I’m hoping to be back in the swing of things as I have a tonne of requests to get through and I don’t want anyone thinking their request is being ignored as I promise it isn’t!

Meh I don’t love it as I defo need to get back into the comforts of my writing (its gone so downhill lmao) but here we are..

Hope you enjoy🥰

****

Jay knew you weren’t the biggest fan of social occasions, so when you happily agreed to attend the annual CPD gala he had invited you along to, he was beyond surprised.

“I mean, I’ll ask her but don’t get your hopes up” he had joked with Kim a few days prior, following endless begging from her after finding out Hailey wouldn’t be there and wanting a familiar female face there.

“Tell her I’ll by her drinks all night” she quickly exclaims as Jay chuckles, eyes still firmly on the road as they drive back to the district.

“You do realise it’s a free bar?”

“Oh” she huffs, “more reason for her not to say no then” she happily shrugs, sinking back into her seat with a look of confidence.

As much as Jay could go on for hours about how he knew you better than anyone, least of all Kim who you had only met on a few occasions it was like talking to a brick wall sometimes and he didn’t have the patience.

You and Jay were homebodies and this suited you perfectly, he would come home after long shifts and you would still more than likely be sat in the same spot he left you at that morning. Countless half empty mugs filled with coffee that was now ice cold, papers scattered all over the table and floor with your eyes pinned firmly on the screen in front of you.

He would convince you to call it a night, you’d either order in food or you’d wander into the kitchen together to whip up dinner whilst he told you about his day. Depends on what you had, you’d either quickly tidy up the table as best you could or you both just slumped on the sofa with the pizza box balanced on your laps as you watched some trash TV.

You would always fall asleep before Jay, he would get too into the show you had put on and then couldn’t finish until he had got to the end whereas you probably wasn’t paying too much attention in the first place so would easily doze off to only be awoken with a light kiss to your head when Jay has turned the TV off.

It worked like clockwork, some may say boring but it just worked for you and you couldn’t picture it any other way. You were each others comfort, the feeling of home.

***

Jay had bought up the idea of going with him to the gala the previous year but you had only been dating for a few months and hasn’t told many people so you decided against it in mutual agreement.

The truth was it hadn’t left you mind since that exact day he casually asked you over dinner last year

“would be fun you know? “ he raised his eyebrows as he took a sip from his drink “having you on my arm all nice and dressed up” he teased

No Jay, it wouldn’t be fun.

Social outings weren’t your thing, you had a close family and the relationship you had with Jay and that was more than enough. An evening spent in Molly’s was something you had to build yourself up to, let alone a huge party with tonnes of people you had never met before.

Every week the thought would re-enter your mind on whether or not he would ask again this year, secretly hoping he would’ve forgot or they had a case on which meant they couldn’t go. You knew it was in August as Kim had mentioned it one night at Molly’s so as the month got closer, the more it played on your mind.

You even forced yourself one weekend to go dress shopping for the occasion to try and get yourself in the right mindset of being there to support Jay, after all you were beyond honoured he would want you by his side but sometimes the voice in your head would have a way of getting through.

“You know the CPD gala is this weekend?” Jay broke the silence, still chewing on his pizza as he flicked through the channels.

Shit

“I know it’s not your thing so I’m thinking of just third wheeling Kim and Adam, do you think they’ll mind?” he joked but you could tell there was something in his voice that had a twinge of disappointment.

“I’ll come with you”

Before you could register your voice to your brain, the words came out of your mouth.

“Baby, you do-“ he began but you were quick to cut him off in reassurance, placing a finger onto his lips as you smiled

“It doesn’t matter, you want me to be there so I’ll be there”

You placed a light kiss to his lips, the confusion plastered across his face but the light behind his eyes showing through in a gleam.

“Just promise me you will think about it first, don’t do this for me. You know I’d rather stay at home with you anyway but there isn’t many of us going to Voight wants us to make our presence known bla bla bla”

“I’ve already bought a dress” you lied, knowing it would be the thing to distract him

The chewing on his mouthful slowed, scanning your face with a slight narrow to his eyes as he tilted his head “what does it look like?”

“It’s just a little black dress, that alright with you?” you suggested, playful tone as he pouted his lips and nodded with a sign of approval “how comes I haven’t seen this dress?”

You lifted the pizza box from his lap whilst you began to tidy, scanning down to see him lift his hips to get more comfortable, slinging one arm to rest on the top of his head whilst the other clutched at the bottle of beer.

The gaze that was piercing into your back felt like it could burn a hole, the extra swing in your hips and swish of your ponytail was giving you the confidence you needed.

Placing the pizza box down on the side you turned to see Jay towering over you, one arm resting against the door frame with the other resting low in his sweatpant pocket.

“Seriously, let me see this dress”

You tried to keep your composure, acting like you couldn’t see the smile he was trying to hide despite the corners of his lips already turning up with his every word.

His eyes were pinned to you as you picked off a piece off fluff from his tshirt, following each move as you let your hand rest onto his chest.

Gazing up at him, innocence in your eyes as you could feel his heart pounding beneath your touch amongst the silence.

“You’re not allowed to see it until the Gala”

He huffed, rolling his eyes whilst running a hand across his forehead in stress

“but the guy in the store said I looked like a million bucks”

His eyes widened, smirk spreading across his lips as you felt his hand drop to your hip as he cleared his throat “did he now?”

You nodded, feeling his grip tighten as he let out a huff in laughter which you knew he didn’t mean in amusement.

Before you could think of what to come back with, his arm was slung over your waist, picking you up like you were a piece of paper and tossing you onto his shoulder. Marching towards the bedroom, not letting the fists you were prodding into his back stopping him.

“Jay?! What are you doing!” you exclaimed, being laid on the bed as he pinned his arms either side of your head to stop you from getting away from him. Dark glint in his eyes as he roamed about your body, taking in every inch as he admired.

“I think you need to show me this dress baby”

***

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

Text

See You Everywhere (Secret Admirer pt 3)

Steddie Week 2024, July 3: Long / mutual pining / Holding Me by Warlock

It's still July 3 in my time zone, haha I made it! *lame fist pump*

wc: 3293 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

Darling Steve,

You amaze me on so many counts, not least by thinking I would stop writing to you after that, holy shit, not stupid at all. I see the vision, baby, and I think it’s precious that you’d rather picture me in disguise than imagine me wrong. But, sweetheart, you have to know that there are no wrong answers in these letters. This is much more firmly within my comfort zone than yours, I know, so I will never judge you for anything you write to me.

(Although I am honor-bound to gently, lovingly point out that it’s Bilbo, not Bibo. And I hope your band of gremlins does not end up guiding you to lead a life of crime. Trust me, it’s not as glamorous as it might seem without the swords and the magic and the fantastic creatures.)

But I digress. I would happily slink into your bedroom at night, dressed all in black. (I wear a lot of dark colors anyway, so it’s not that much of a stretch.) I’d scale the outside wall up to your bedroom window and silently slip inside. Step softly so as not to disturb you as I approach the bed, where you slumber peacefully in… I want to say, with hope in my heart, nothing but those Hawkins High gym shorts? Nights have been hot lately, that and leaving the window open should help you keep cool. My own costume would be a little warm in this weather but it is, if I am to preserve my secret identity, a necessary sacrifice; one I would willingly make for the privilege of touching you.

Do me a favor, sweetheart, and touch yourself while you read this. Through fabric, if you want to make it authentic, if you imagine me wearing gloves. (So smart for that, baby, because honestly you’d figure out a lot about me just from seeing my hands.) Lay back like a good boy, Steve, and let me make you feel good and pull those shorts down. It’s dark, I could pull up my mask a little bit to use my mouth. Suck you until you’re hard, use my hand for whatever I can’t fit in my mouth because I can tell you’re very gifted in that area. It’s a shame I’d have my hair covered because I like having it pulled, but I could still moan around you while thinking about it.

And baby? I’d swallow.

I’ll leave it there because… to be perfectly honest, I got a little distracted and made a mess of myself. You have no idea what you do to me, Steve, I feel like I’m on top of the world and all I’ve done is take the fantasy you provided and run with it.

Which is embarrassing, because I started writing these letters because I wanted to give you something. You’ve seemed so melancholy ever since last fall and I wanted to let you know that someone sees you and cares. And here I am, selfishly imagining you when I can’t let you do the same, because if you knew who I am I don’t think you’d want me. I’m pretty far outside of your type, judging by anyone I’ve ever seen you with or noticed you show interest in. I listen to music you would probably hate. I don’t like sports, be it playing or spectating. Our high school experiences are on such opposite ends of the spectrum that we practically went to different schools. Your house is a castle and mine a hovel. We have nothing in common but I am filled to bursting with devotion to you that I can’t even.

Do you really want me to continue writing, Steve? I know you’ve asked me to be before, but we’re in new territory here. I know I started it, but I really do feel like it was maybe uncool of me and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

I’ll follow your example and end on a different note. How is it going with your coworker? I don’t have a steady nine to five myself—or the part time version, I guess—but I imagine working with someone who likes to butt heads with you is pretty grating. If it’s an issue, I hope it resolves soon. Wishing you as little stress in your life as possible, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. Before you ask, I do recall saying in my last letter that I don’t mind weird. To clarify: I will accept just about any weirdness from you, sweetheart, but it’s different when I do it. Forgive me my dramatics, but at the end of the day, everyone is their own harshest critic.

Eddie is suffering. He’s haunted, too distracted to plan his next campaign or practice guitar—which, incidentally, are the things that usually distract him too much from things like school work or finding a respectable job. All he can think about is Steve, and by inevitable extension Steve’s ninja scenario.

He’d laughed at first, okay? (Before, you know. Getting really, really into it.) Not in a derogatory way, but because it was actually a creative solution to something that a lot of dudes might not even consider a problem.

Since I don’t know what you look like and it’d be weird to try and picture you anyway, and then what if I’m not even close and that makes it seem like I don’t like you for who you are?

Because, just, Jesus H. Christ. Eddie has fooled around with guys in places out in Indy, and being liked for who he is doesn’t really factor in. So this is… new. He feels almost seen, something that should be impossible while he’s still shrouded in anonymity, and yet Steve seems to be holding space for that veil to be lifted someday.

‘Someday’ suggests a mutual future of some sort, which is sparking a dangerous ember of hope in Eddie’s foolish heart. And in the meantime there’s always the mental image of getting to secretly blow the prettiest boy in Hawkins—

Fuck, he needs to get out of this tin oven of a trailer. He’d put his latest letter in the mail two days ago, then come straight home to jerk off some more and smoke his way into absolute paranoia that this time he’d really blown it. Gone full throttle on that fantasy, then told Steve not to want him, then said something dumb about that girl he works with, and then still mailed it?!

He needs fresh air.

(He goes and checks his PO box.)

Any air.

(No reply yet, but the Hawkins Post Office isn’t known for its speed or efficiency.)

Air conditioning.

It doesn’t surprise him, really, when he ends up pulling his van into the parking lot surrounding Starcourt Mall. Because Steve Harrington is haunting him and will keep doing so matter where he goes, so why not here? Eddie doesn’t even bother to fight the way his feet carry him towards Scoops. Wouldn’t be the first time, after all—Steve’s ass looks great in both green and blue—but he tries not to do it too often.

All he wants is a crumb, a tiny direct interaction with the guy, even if Steve continues to remain none the wiser.

Steve is suffering. Which really grates, because he woke up in a great mood! He’s already working on a reply to the latest letter—once again all stocked up on paper, so he can rewrite it nicer if he makes a mess of it this time. Every time he thinks about it his chest (and, okay, sometimes his dick too, he’s still a teenaged boy) fills up with giddy warmth knowing that his Secret Admirer liked his dumb ninja idea. Specifically said it wasn’t stupid and that they had to stop writing to masturbate about it.

(Girls do that, right? Maybe not as often as dudes, but he really has had phone sex with enough of them to know they’re not necessarily opposed. That wasn’t a clue, Secret Admirer still could be either.)

So today should be going great, but instead he’s felt a headache coming ever since he hopped in his car to drive to work. Too late to take anything for it, though Advil or Tylenol sometimes barely dent in these things. He puts his sunglasses on for the drive and into the mall in the hope that will buy him some time before the worst of it hits.

If only he could stay home, laying in his room as dark as he can make it with a cold washcloth over his eyes and a can of Coke with a crazy straw at the ready. Even better if he could somehow just call and get Secret Admirer to come over to keep him silent company, refreshing the washcloth for him when it gets warm…

“Shades aren’t part of the uniform, cool guy,” Robin says flatly when he walks into Scoops through the back. “I don’t care how hungover you are, company rules.”

“I’m not hungover on a damn Tuesday,” he grumbles back. But maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe the headache will hold off at least until his break, then if he clocks out early at least he still got half a shift’s pay. Maybe if it holds off a little longer after that he’ll be able to get all the way home without being a danger behind the wheel.

He leaves the sunglasses folded on the break room table and starts helping her haul fresh tubs of ice cream from the walk-in to the display case out front.

It’s going to be a long shift.

By the time Eddie gets to Scoops, there’s a line so long it’s practically out the door. Frowning, he checks his watch for the time, something he hadn’t bothered to do in the van, and realizes it’s probably the tail end of the lunch rush. Super.

Steve and the girl he works with are both behind the counter, taking turns scooping and ringing up each individual customer or group and then cycling back around to help the next in line. As he waits, Eddie watches from behind the cover of his long hair and realizes that Steve seems off today. He keeps squinting under the fluorescent lights, distracted, sometimes asking people to repeat themselves to both their and his coworker’s obvious annoyance. But it’s not until some kid shrieks that she asked for double fudge chunk and he’s scooping regular chocolate that Steve winces and brings his shoulders up like he’s trying to cover his ears, and oh. Oh, Eddie thinks he knows what this is.

Sometimes I get these headaches that really mess me up. It doesn’t just hurt, it’s like all the lights get way too bright and sometimes my eyes go blurry for a while. Great parting gift from the concussion. Ice cream helps sometimes though, which is convenient if I’m at work.

The tiniest amount of research at the library (or, in fact, two afternoons in a row) had told Eddie that this could be anything from migraines to a brain tumor, but given the concussion the former is more likely. If Steve is having one of those, this is probably the worst place for him to be: loud, bright, and enough people crowded into the ice cream parlor that even with mall air conditioning it feels lukewarm in here, when what he needs is quiet, dark, and a cold compress. And this is not the kind of place where he can just throw up and take a nap—not without the risk of getting in trouble, maybe fired.

Eddie knows that Steve is going to keep trying to power through it, because he knows all about how the guy is saving up to move out of his parents’ house. (Castle… Oh god, he’d called it a castle in his last letter, why had he done that? He knows that Steve wants out of there, wants somewhere cozy and lived-in as opposed to his mother’s taste in cool and impersonal decor.)

There’s nothing he can do but wait as the line inches forward. As a slight tremor starts to show in Steve’s hands, which Eddie is watching like a hawk. By the time Eddie, still last in line, is within touching distance of the display case it’s a full on shake, and Steve fumbles his ice cream scoop trying to spin it into the side loop on his apron.

The clatter is loud against the background elevator music version of a The Beach Boys song. Steve’s coworker—Robin, according to her name tag—looks up sharply at the sound, but an uncertain kind of concern seeps into her frown when she gets a good look at him. “Steve? You alive over there?”

Steve, who has gone very pale, gives a slight shake of his head that seems to make his whole body sway. “Need a clean scoop. I’ll just… run to the back,” he manages, then stumbles towards the swinging doors marked Employees Only. There’s a choked noise as soon as he’s out of sight, and Robin seems to come to the same conclusion as Eddie: he won’t be back for a while.

To her credit, she puts on a passably bright fake smile at the lady Steve had been helping, taking her mostly finished cup from the counter where Steve had left it and adding the requested chocolate syrup on top.

Finally, it’s Eddie’s turn. But now he’s the one who’s distracted, trying to squint through the frosted glass of the window to the back room for any sign of Steve moving around.

“What can I get you, Munson?” Robin asks loudly, a little annoyed as though it’s not the first time she’s asked. Oops.

He also feels a little bad that he didn’t recognize her when she obviously knows him, likely from his lunchtime cafeteria soapbox spectacles, but ever since the first time he’d failed senior year he’d tuned out on all the rising underclassmen besides Steve pretty hard.

Eddie orders while glancing towards the window again and fiddling with the chain attached to his belt loop. “Actually, make that two cones. One for me and one to cheer up your fellow at sea.”

Robin wrinkles her nose. “You, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, want to buy Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington an ice cream cone?”

He shrugs, something inside him shriveling because, yeah, that would seem weird from an outsider’s perspective, the way he usually rails against the jocks. Maybe he’s a little bit of a hypocrite in his affections, but whatever Steve was in high school he’s actually a massive sweetheart now. “Yeah, well. You know Hargrove gave him a concussion last year? King Steve may have been a douchebag to us commoners, but at least he’s not as bad as that piece of shit.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, but finishes scooping into the first cone and reaches for a second. “Are you sure there wasn’t some house party he was at last night? Everyone knows he got that title from being Keg King.”

It feels stupid to go to high school parties when I’m not in high school anymore. They’re too loud and just a couple of beers hit me like a brick because of my stupid messed up head. Partying used to be a good outlet but I can’t do it anymore.

“Nah,” Eddie dismisses immediately, mind scrambling for a reason he can give for being so certain. “Nothing last night, or I would’ve been there. You know, for business purposes.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “By the way, if you ever need a little relief from the grind of dealing with shitty customers…”

It feels sleezy, and isn’t something he usually does, but it helps sell it.

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” Robin says quickly, and moves to the register. “That’s three dollars and fifty cents.”

“Don’t forget the sprinkles,” he reminds her while digging the money out of his pocket. With that handed over and sprinkles dumped on, he takes his one cone and gestures grandly to the other. “And maybe don’t mention to his Highness that that was from me. It’d be a shame if he had the same reaction as you and simply tossed away good ice cream.”

That would crush him, actually. So even though he wants so, so badly to stay, he forces himself to leave before he tries to eavesdrop, just to be safe.

“Steve?”

Startled, Steve jolts upright from where he’d been slumped in one of the break room chairs, wet paper towel sliding off his face and landing in his lap. The motion makes his head throb harder, and it’s all he can do to swallow down a groan. “Huh?” he grunts, eyes only open enough to make out Robin’s general shape.

“Why’d you turn the lights off back here?” she asks, quieter this time. He can’t make out her tone at all through the sharp pain threatening to burst out of his skull, but he’s grateful for the lower volume. And that she doesn’t turn the lights back on.

“‘S not a hangover,” he mumbles. Which, maybe he missed a step in that explanation. It was there in his head somewhere, surely she’ll make the connection? Or maybe just think he’s got some sort of stomach flu, since he totally threw up in the break room trash can. Hopefully in it. He’s… pretty sure he didn’t miss.

“I’m getting that.” Very gently, Robin takes his hand and wraps it around an ice cream cone. “Here. Generous donation from a concerned citizen who shall remain nameless.”

Steve blinks down at the strawberry ice cream in a cone with rainbow sprinkles.

Either this is the biggest coincidence in the world, or Secret Admirer was here.

Suddenly his eyes are silently streaming, because he could use that comforting presence right about now. It shines through on every page—this overwhelming care that he’s never felt from anyone else, not even Nancy. Whoever it is must have remembered the one time he’d mentioned in one of his reply letters that ice cream helps his headaches sometimes.

Steve cries because he wishes they would’ve just brought it themselves and done away with the mystery because he so, so longs to feel like someone’s in his corner now. Someone to give him a hug and rub just above his temples, which sometimes helps too. He takes a lick of the ice cream and chews on sprinkles and the tears come a little faster because he wants.

“Oh shit,” Robin whispers, dropping into the seat across from him. “Are you crying? Steve—Steve, it’s okay, if you’re not feeling up to it I’m not gonna make you go back out there again. Especially not if you’re likely to ralph on the customers but, like, mostly because I’d feel like an asshole. I mean, I heard the rumors about you getting a concussion and that’s why you quit the basketball team and swim teams, but…” She hesitates, holding her hands up like he’s a bomb that she’s worried might explode in her face. “Just, it’s okay. You stay back here and I’ll finish the rest of the shift, you don’t even have to clock out. I’ll handle it.”

For a moment, with hurt in his head and an ache in his heart and strawberry flavor on his tongue, Steve thinks it could be her. Maybe Robin is his Secret Admirer and it was her own idea to scoop this cone for him. But then she leaves, and that doesn’t feel right either.

Steve is haunted by a faceless, nameless person that he’s probably crossed paths with without knowing god knows how many times. Or rather, by their absence.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

#steddieweek2024 #scoops words #secret admirer steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington

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shinsmarlboro · 1 month

Text

Strums of Seduction.

Dedicated to my mutual on TikTok, she knows who she is <3

Tags: Kazutora is a flirt, you go viral lol, gender neutral reader, reader is whipped for Kazutora and honestly that's so real, celebrity au, alternate timeline.

Kazutora first saw you at one of his concerts, mesmerised as you danced to the practised strumming of his electric guitar. What set you apart was that you didn't have your cell phone out, choosing simply to bask in the moment of it all. It was something he appreciated, since nowadays people have become attached to their phones.

Your reaction to him smiling at you was something that caused him to laugh a little though it couldn't be heard over the loud voices of the crowd. As the intro for the next song rolled in, he pulled Atsushi, the lead singer, aside just before he sang their third song.

“Sorry to delay you all, how ‘bout we have one of our fans come on stage?” He smirked at the cheerful response from his fans. “Let's have ‘em dance with us.”

The drummer blushed as some of his fans loudly declared wanting to dance around him, one even holding up a sign that asked for his hand in marriage.

“Is that a good idea?” Atsushi asked, a sheepish grin plastered across his face.

“C'mon man…” Kazutora nudged his arm. “You don't wanna say no to them, do you? I get it, I see so many pretty faces in the crowd I’m starting to get shy now.”

He let out a satisfied hum as his words elicited lovestruck squeals from his fans, both male and female.

Sauntering towards the edge of the podium, eager eyes watched as he extended his hand towards you to take.

You felt yourself shiver like a leaf, mouth agape and eyes never leaving Kazutora’s flawless face. As silly as it sounded, his beauty drew you in like a moth to a flame, the voices around you minimised as though you both solely existed in that moment. Slowly, you placed your hand in his and he hoisted you onto the podium.

Your legs nearly gave out as you drank in the sight of the band - Souya was behind the drums, his vibrant cerulean curls just as lush as in the photos. The lead singer, Atsushi, in his captivating yet unconventional mohawk style and a smile on his face as he interacted with fans.

Then, your attention fixed on the main singer, who had his hand clasped in yours.

“You okay?” He asked. letting go of your hand and bringing you back to reality.

You simply nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself by squeaking out a response that sounded similar to a dying cat.

He laughed, noticing your tense posture and lightly patted your shoulder. “Relax, will ya?” He leaned closer, still leaving some space between you so you are not uncomfortable. He made sure to lower his microphone so his words could be heard by you only, to the disappointment of his inquisitive fans.

“You were dancing your ass off moments ago, what happened to that fire, hm?”

You bit your inner cheek so hard it drew blood. You thought it had been your mind playing tricks on you, but he noticed you. Kazutora fucking Hanemiya had seen you dancing like an idiot.

Heat creeped up into your cheeks. He didn't seem to be weirded out by it, so that was a good thing.

“It's not the same..” You murmured.

He quirked a brow just as Atsushi hyped up the crowd. It was a furtive signal that indicated that the band would soon start playing.

Kazutora placed a hand on your shoulder. “Just let loose. Let the music guide you, as they say.” He followed it up by a wink.

You gave him a half nod, watching as he adjusted his electric guitar.

Right. Just don't make a fool out of yourself, again. You told yourself as you wiped your clammy palms on your denims.

When you got off stage, your legs felt like jello and eyes blown wide in fascination. You didn't even budge as one of your friends snaked her arm around you and the other screamed her lungs out because you had your once-in-a-billion moment with the sought-after celebrity.

After that concert, the band got even more popular and scoring concert tickets was like playing the lottery game. You'd observe with envy as fans interacted with the band members during fan signs and concerts, fortunately you were grateful you got to have a viral moment with Kazutora Hanemiya, even with the death threats sent to you from fans, anons and a couple of middle-aged women, you felt content.

As time passed, you soon came to realise that you might not attend another concert. With having to tackle work and school, it was damn near impossible to find the time to go out to have fun, talkless of concerts.

At 9 PM on a Friday night, you finished mopping the floors of the café eager to close up the shop and head on home basking in the momentary freedom the weekend gave you before heading on back to work on Sunday.

The bell rang, indicating that a customer was here. You let out an audible grumble and turned around with the fakest customer-service grin you could muster up for the umpteenth time, except you were at your breaking point.

The customer took off his hoodie and you were blessed with the opportunity to stare into his beautiful gold eyes and that tiger tattoo you spotted despite his neck being concealed for the most part.

“I'm sorry, are you about to close for the night?” The familiar timbre in his smooth voice sounded nice in your ears. Still, you were irritated, whether there happened to be a hottie or not.

“Yeah, it's a shame,” You replied, with feign disappointment.

A nervous chuckle fell from his lips as he rubbed his nape. “I figured.” He fished out his phone to check the time. “I mean, it's pretty late already. The moment he took out his phone, your eyes got fixated on the Swastika symbol against his clear phone case, not only that but his onyx fingernails under the lighting.

Could it be or were you going crazy from lack of adequate sleep?

He could feel you staring at him, so he met your gaze and a flash of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait… it's you.”

You frowned. What the hell? “You know me?”

He nodded, a broad grin spreading on his face. “Hell yeah I do!” He laughed softly. “Dancing-machine?”

Your eyes widened as he uttered the name of the hashtag under your viral video. Heat instantly flooded your cheeks as you cleared your throat.

“Do you remember me? Don't tell me you have forgotten my face already,” He teased, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“How could I forget?” You fiddled with your mop, laughing sheepishly. “I should be asking you that question, I mean what.”

“I have a pretty solid memory.” He rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “L/N wasn't it?”

Your heart fluttered. You knew that he was great at memory games as proven in one of the moments he had to memorise cards on a variety show, but it made you feel touched.

“Wow…” Another laugh fell from your lips. “It's been a while. How the hell did you not forget?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I never forget my fans. Especially the pretty ones.”

You stiffened, unsure of how to respond or react. “Oh um…that's thoughtful of you?”

You could sense the awkward tension threatening to consume the atmosphere and so you quickly changed the subject.

“Uh, how about you take a seat?” You offered, taking down the chairs on the freshly waxed floors.

“What?” He looked confused.

“You wanted to order something, right?”

“Oh no I couldn't…” He watched you, feeling abashed as he observed you pull out a chair for him.

“I insist, now sit down and let me take your order,” You commanded.

He gave you a rare nervous smile. “You really don't have to.”

“Yes I do. I mean, no one's here and you can eat without fangirls flocking to you for your autograph.”

“You're still here though.”

You clicked your tongue playfully. “I am a grown ass, I don't have time to be squealing over celebrities,” You spoke coolly and walked away, muttering about getting the menu for him, even though internally you were freaking the fuck out. What were the odds of seeing your favourite celebrity at your workplace?

You returned, placing it before him on the table. “Take your time.”

You couldn't help but sneak glances as he skimmed through the options. It was as though his face had this magnetic energy that pulled your eyes in, or maybe he was just too handsome for your weak heart.

He pressed his lips together, hesitating for a moment. “Uh… If it ain’t much of a hassle, how about soufflé pancakes?”

You relaxed a little when he chose the less tedious option. “Of course. Want anything to drink?”

“Just water.” He smiled at you.

His eyes subtly roamed your form as you took the menu from him and made your way to the kitchen.

As you stirred the batter, you couldn't help but feel his eyes on you. You did a taste test, finding an opportunity to look at him from the peripheral of your vision; He leaned back to get a better view of you from the kitchen.

You weren't exactly looking your best, after an eight-hour shift you were bound to look unkempt. You thought to yourself about what it was that could be interesting enough about your appearance to have him stare at you.

He's just hungry. Focus on the damn pancake, broke ass bitch. You berated yourself in your head as you poured the gooey mix in the pan and set to frying.

Minutes later, you had a tray of soufflé pancakes with a drizzle of whipped cream and maple syrup. Sliced strawberries surrounded the plate rather neatly to Kazutora's amusement.

“Strawberries weren't on the menu.” He raised a questioning.

“I can get rid of them if you'd like,” You suggested.

He shook his head. “No way. I love strawberries. It was just an observation.”

You let out a hum, feeling your muscles ache as you placed his order before him and made to go back to the kitchen.

“Hey uh on second thought, how about I just take this home instead?”

You turned to look at him. There wasn't any sign of dissatisfaction on his charming face but it unnerved you the more, knowing how two-faced celebrities could be.

You cleared your throat and muttered a ‘Sure’, approaching his table to take his plate to get it ready for takeaway. You silently wondered why he chose to take it home; you didn't mind staying behind just for him even as late as the night was getting.

Handing the takeaway bag to him, he mumbled a ‘Thank you’ as he looked at his phone. He raised his head to meet your gaze. “You accept transfers too, right?”

You recited the café's account details while he typed it down with his nimble thumbs. He showed you proof that he made the transaction and you nodded slightly, a friendly smile spread across your face.

“Thank you for coming,” You said, moving to put up the chairs back on the table.

“Thank you for your time.” He shot back, letting out a brief chuckle.

Tension threatened to invade the room as it fell into silence. You were too exhausted to respond, but not saying anything would be seen as rude so you hummed to let him know that you acknowledged his words.

“Say, you think I can have your number?” He asked, as if he was in a hurry. “I have practice in a few so I wanna make it quick, in case I don't see you again.”

In that moment your heart dropped into your ass. You stared at him wide-eyed and expectant for him to declare his words as a joke. Instead he stared back at you, patiently smiling.

“I…”

“You know what, I'll just write it down.” He turned his back on you, dipping his hand into his tote bag to get out a journal and a pen. With a couple of hurried flips, he tore out a quarter of a page. He slid the cap of his pen between his teeth and scribbled his digits on it, while he did so you just stared like a fool, hands clasped in front of your apron.

He left it on the table, packing up his stuff in his bag and draped it over his shoulder whilst he held his order in his right grasp.

“Make sure you text me when you find the time!” He waved at you then turned around to pull up his hoodie as he walked off into the night.

Your hand trembled as you held the piece of paper, gawking at the series of numbers. A wave of excitement washed over you followed by an inhumane scream, the exhaustion suddenly leaving your entire body as you replayed what just happened in your head.

___________________________________________

You and Kazutora’s friendship had begun to grow despite both of your hectic schedules and occasionally having to adapt to the different time zones whenever he went on tour. The more you talked to him, the more you realised that he was just like any other person but more talented.

You had managed to keep it a secret to your friends about befriending the popular lead guitarist. After all it had nothing to do with them.

“They can be a handful at times.” You sighed, chopping up vegetables unevenly that struck mild concern from the man on the phone. You had gotten into a squabble with your two friends recently and you couldn't be bothered to deal with their shit when you had so much on your plate.

“Hey, you must have been acting a certain way for them to tease you like that.”

You halted your actions, looking at him with an accusatory gaze. “Are you taking their side?”

“No, no,” Kazutora said, sensing your growing irritation. You had been like this for a couple of days: quick to annoy, harder to reason with.

“It's just, you've been cranky lately,” He pointed out tentatively.

“I'm just tired,” You defended.

“You said that last time.” He adjusted his phone position, bringing the device closer to his face.

“I'm telling the truth.” You chopped the veggies with more aggression than intended.

“I didn't say you were lying.” He exasperated.

You were over it. As dashing as he was, keeping this back and forth going would end in you lashing out on him. And so, you reached out about to hang up.

“So…” He drawled awkwardly “...I hope this isn't shitty timing but I was wondering if you could meet up with me one of these days,” He suggested, rubbing his nape. “I really need your opinion on something.”

You gave him a look, your index finger grazing lightly against the re d telephone icon. “This isn't some sort of trap right?”

“What?” He choked out.

“Forget it.” You put the knife down and let out a long sigh, hands gripping the sides of the kitchen counter. You needed a break, a break from all the crap going on in your life.

“I’ll look into my schedule and see if I can fit you in.” You mustered up the strength to faintly smile at him on your screen. “I have to go now.”

“Okay but don't forget. It's really important.” He emphasized just as you hung up.

Days later, you texted him informing him that you would be free on a weekend, and he arranged for a taxi to come pick you up despite your complaints.

He stood outside in all his glory beside a motorcycle you assumed was his, dressed in a loose tee and black cargo pants. He noticed you almost immediately and jogged up to meet you.

He took off his mask to greet you with an attractive smile. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” He gave you a side hug which you leaned into.

As he led you into the building, you spotted the electric guitar reposed on the concrete floor and the balls of crumpled paper beside the culpable notebook sprawled open before his feet. Colourful graffiti spread across the unpainted walls, rays of sunlight acted as the only light source in the bleak surroundings except the slightly opened door on the verge of collapse.

“Sorry, it's a bit of a mess.” He laughed nervously, side stepping the empty boxes of ramen and coffee cups

“I was here all night.”

You assured him that it was fine as you sat down on the worn-out couch. Inviting you here meant he trusted you enough to see him like this, it made your heart flutter.

“My dormitory can be a real mess. Worse than this, trust me.” You took off your bag, placing it on a table as you sat on the low chair. “You said you were here all night? You mean you slept here?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I just worked on the finishing touches of the song before I send it to my producer.”

The news regarding the anonymous release date of their band’s 2nd album circulated rather quickly and now here you are, blessed with the opportunity to be a first listener. His first listener.

“Is this where you practise?” You asked, admiring the oddly cosiness of the hangout spot, undeterred by the fading graffiti and holes in the ceiling. “Your singing and songwriting?”

“Yeah, it used to be a spot where me and the guys would come to rehearse after school. That was years ago though, now it's more of a place I come to when I wanna clear my head,” He explained, his voice detached and slightly muffled because of the pick between his teeth.

You bit your bottom lip, watching closely as he pulled the strap of the electric guitar over his head so the instrument stayed poised against his stomach.

“I was working on the finishing touches of a song and I wanted you to be my first listener.” His hesitant gaze met yours. “Is that okay?”

“Well I, I can't say that I’m not flattered that your reached out to me,” You stated. “Though I can't help but think that you're taking advantage of the fact that I'm a fan of you guys, your biggest fan even but you see I’m not too fond of spoilers, Kazu.”

“I mean… if you told me that I would have understand.” He scratched his nape, feeling flustered that you seemed unenthused to hear his new song. “I just need your opinion on it that's all.”

“I'm just kidding. I didn't know a man like you still had it in you to blush.” You laughed softly. “You're singing the entire song?”

He shook his head. “Just my part and the bridge. Maybe a bit of the chorus.”

“Oh, so half of the song?” You asked in a deadpan tone. The group's line distribution barely changed. As the main vocalist, Kazutora got most of the lines. After his part, which included the bridge (or sometimes Atsushi Sendo would sing it instead) most of the time, the song was basically over.

“Basically.” He chuckled, appreciating your subtle humour.

“Alright.” You readjusted your position on the chair. “The floor's yours.”

You leaned forward just a bit with a growing smile on your face as he began to sing the intro, heartfelt Japanese rhymes flowing smoothly out of his lips. His fingers danced effortlessly across the strings, coaxing out a catchiness which you know would be stuck in your head for days.

His eyes locked on you, softening slightly. You had seen him pour his heart out with some of the few ballads the group had written. He never failed to move the hearts of many fans with the raw emotions he conveyed in his tone, like he related to the songs. You knew he did, back then and now.

You were certain you looked like a mesmerised idiot but you didn't care. You brought your legs to your chest, hugging them, remaining transfixed on his angelic vocals. If this was the demo, she couldn't imagine how heavenly the master recording would be like

As he neared the end of the song he drew closer to you, his gaze piercing. It made you squirm a little and fight back the blush threatening to spread across your face. It appeared like the rest of the world acted as a backdrop, gradually fading away as both of you are enveloped in your private symphony.

“So what do you think?” His question came out as a heavy breath. His cologne enveloped your senses. You always felt like this, nauseated. Whenever he’d catch you staring at him from time to time. It got worse when he'd smile at you, his eyes crinkled upwards. The butterflies in the pit of a stomach would trill intensely as though your body was trying to warn you.

“I mean I think it's good but music is…music is subjective you know I can't speak for-”

Before you finished your sentence, his lips connected with yours. Your hands moved to his nape as you slowly melted in the kiss. Your reciprocation gave him the confidence to wander down to your waist, sending pleasurable jolts just from an action as simple as that.

You gasped into his mouth when he pinned you down on the floor scattered with newspapers, but had no intention of pulling away.

‘Honestly,” He began, his breathing heavy on your lips. “I just wanted to have an excuse to bring you here. The song's been ready for release since last week.”

“Sneaky bastard,” You teased.

“You were still the first to listen to it.” Kazutora's hand trailed up your waistline, squishing where necessary earning a surprised squeal from him.

“Jesus…” You mumbled, pretending to get upset with him but ultimately laughed softly.

“So, what'd you think?” He asked. “I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to hear your thoughts about it.”

“It was romantic. A bit explicit but…” Your words made him laugh awkwardly.

“Uh yeah… even though it's my song I had Makoto write some lyrics for me.”

Your eyes grew wide and you sat up. “Makoto from…”

“Makoto from M.M? “

That explained a lot. A smug grin formed on your face in a way that had the celebrity feeling uneasy.

“I wouldn't think that you of all people won't be able to write explicit lyrics.” You teased.

“It's not like I can't write them. I don't want to show that side of me to fans yet.”

“Why? You should go for it.” To your amusement he seemed abashed about the idea, you could have sworn his ears got redder in colour.

“You don't have to jump into it immediately,” You quickly assured him. “It's just a suggestion.”

He let out a noncommittal hum, rubbing his nape as he got off you, exposing a different side to him. You watched him for a moment with a fond expression on your face before lying down on your back. Taking a breather like this, it was rare. Your muscles ached with fatigue but the thought of falling asleep was damn near impossible.

Still. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax in his presence and the growing silence. The papers rustled beneath you and Kazutora's warm breath fanned on your exposed skin.

His eyes were on you. You didn't have to open them to notice. It didn't bother you, you recalled he mentioned something about your face being easy on the eyes. It made you uncomfortable.

You knew he would stop it if you told him about the feeling he elicited from you, strangely you brushed it off. In his eyes were nothing but compassion - the same compassion he harboured for his loved ones and fans. Perhaps it was the intimacy behind them that made you inept.

“Hey, Y/N?” His boyish voice relaxed your muscles further.

“Hm?” You hummed in response.

“Wanna go on a date with me?”

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !

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yanderes-galore · 21 days

Note

Romantic concepts for a Yandere Light Yagami from Death Note where Darling is a Kira devotee pls OwO

I imagine you'd be like a tamer version of Misa.

Yandere! Light Yagami with Kira Devotee! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Murder, Brainwashing, Isolation, Dehumanization, Dubious relationship.

Light, being Kira, naturally has some fans.

Actually, even Light himself is popular due to his looks, his grades, and his charisma.

Not many know who Kira is, and for good reason.

Light having a Kira Devotee! Obsession would probably work in his favor.

You would definitely be a similar case to Misa.

You may not be as obsessive as Misa, but you see Kira's work as a blessing.

Criminals dying is a great idea to keep the public safe, right?

Imagine if you and Light know each other, like friends from school?

You have no clue he's Kira, but naturally talk about the murders with him due to his major.

Light didn't expect you to be a Kira fan.

Yet here you are, talking to him, voice filled with praise for Kira.

You see Kira as a force of justice, one cleaning this world.

You don't care how wrong it is, to you it's simply like the death penalty for criminals.

Light's baffled... but prideful.

Seeing you speak to him so excited about Kira makes his ego swell.

You have no clue he's your idol, just rambling away.

He finds your oblivious demeanor cute.

If Light has romantic feelings for you by this point, hearing you are so fond of Kira makes him feel he has a chance.

He has a chance to make you his if he plays his cards right.

Light may at first dissuade you to try and keep his cover.

Yet, he supports you.

He supports you because you're a fan of his.

He's been waiting for this chance, before he even got the Death Note he's been following you around.

He has so many notes... he's so obsessed... Now it can be mutual.

Light would wait to tell you who he is, as much as he really wants to confess everything.

He needs to be strategic, to know you're genuine.

Light can be paranoid at times, he needs to know you aren't with the police secretly to check for suspicion.

Yet over time... He can tell you genuinely have praise for Kira.

He can use that to make you his.

Imagine if Light invites you over to his house, claiming he has important news.

He makes sure you're both in private before he begins his thoughts.

His confession... both of his identity... and his possible feelings.

The information is no doubt a bit... overwhelming.

Although... exciting for you.

This whole time you'd been friends with the person you looked up to the most?

You're no doubt loyal and ask to help in any way you can.

Which allows Light to have a good hold of you.

The bond between you is dubious and not entirely healthy.

You no doubt have feelings for him, but most of the time Light's using that to control you.

Your devotion keeps you as his.

Light could say anything and you'd listen.

You're completely loyal to him and excuse his actions.

Light could get away with isolating you just by saying you need to keep things secret due to his identity.

Light could kill those close to you and frame it to look like a criminal did it before he kills them.

Light could easily make himself seem like a hero in your eyes since you look up to him.

What's even better?

He can use your view towards him to get you to date him.

He claims it's to make things seem less suspicious.

In reality, Light has been in love with you for a long time.

Now's his chance to make you his, especially since you're so devoted.

Light could have so much control over you and you'd have no clue.

You wouldn't question him.

If Light wants something, you'll do it.

Light likes it when you're obedient, loyal, submissive...

You're his dutiful little follower, his love...

His obsession.

You're all his, too.

You'd follow no one else.

Plus, once he asks you to be his, you're isolated.

You follow his every move, encouraging and adoring him.

Not only that, but Light encourages you to continue supporting him.

No need for kidnapping... but there's still plenty of murder.

You wouldn't even question the death of your friends, would you?

Even when he starts doing questionable acts... such as asking for items from you or watching you from afar (He's always done this but now he can be more open with it)... you brush it off.

He's Kira, He's Light, He's your idol and more importantly... He's your boyfriend.

You don't care how much control he has over you.

In your eyes, he could do nothing wrong.

Your loyalty is strong yet blind...

Light's been waiting for this moment all his life...

Now you're all his, willingly too... his devoted follower... his beloved loyal pet.

#yandere death note #yandere death note x reader #yandere light yagami

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steddieunderdogfics · 8 months

Text

This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:

24-Hour Diner

On Thin Ice

And the Sun will Rise

Bandaids for the Heart

Waking Up In Vegas

A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous

Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!

Which fic are you most proud of?

“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.

How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?

I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!

When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.

What inspired On Thin Ice?

I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.

What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?

There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!

Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #lexirosewrites

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