#angy making out session you say?

[ienjoywritingfilth]

Night of the concert deserves a part 2! 🫶

hope u like it and i hope i get some reviews pls. i really love reading them all an i have almost 500 followers!!!!!!!!!!!!

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader

trope Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller

summary: after a really close call Joel does his best to stay away from his daughter's seductive friend. but all goes awry when she comes to sleep over one weekend.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), dubcon, oral, infidelity, unprotected p in v, absolutely filthy talk, chair sex, creampie, daddy mentioned, somnophilia, other shit i might have forgotten

word count: 6.1k

part ii of 'the night of the concert'

Joel hasn't been able to stop thinking of that night. The night of the concert. The night you threw yourself at him. 

When he frantically fucks his wife it's your cunt he sees behind his eyes. When he drives to work he gets hard as he remembers the way your tits bounced as you rode him. And above all he recalls that sultry voice you put on for him. 

When was the time you fucked college pussy, Joel? 

Not since college. 

You'd been so slick and warm, so perfect around him. Your cunt had the kind of grip that makes his balls tighten just at the memory. 

So when Sarah asks one morning a month or so later if you can spend the night this weekend Joel chokes on his coffee. 

"Her parents are arguing all the time now. Her mom threatened to file for divorce," Sarah says with a frown as Joel wipes at his now stained work shirt.

"I'm not home this weekend," Angie says tapping on her phone before glancing at her husband. "You'll have to check with your dad. But I don't see why not. Right Joel?"

Sarah looks at her dad with pleading eyes. You haven't been over since everything happened and Joel knows it's been hard for Sarah. She has no idea what you did. 

"Right," Joel finally nods, digging into his eggs. "Yea no problem kiddo." 

What else could he say? He's never told his wife or daughter what happened. How could he do that without blowing his life up? 

The entire week leading up to the weekend Joel thinks he'll fuck it out of his system. He goes down on Angie every night that week leading up to her flight. He fucks her in every position and he fucking loves it. So does she, claiming that college Joel is back after one particularly satisfying session. 

But it's not enough. He's taken to sitting in his truck parked in the garage late at night when everyone else is asleep. Only then does he pull up your Instagram and begin stroking his cock vigorously. He watches your reels and pinches to zoom in on photos you took of yourself at the beach. He comes harder to static images of you than inside his own wife and that's how he knows he cannot be anywhere near the house this weekend. 

That Saturday Joel drops Angie off at the airport so she can go on her yearly trip to her sisters back in Colorado. Of all the fucking weeks for her to be away. 

"You gonna have a movie marathon while I'm gone?" His wife grinned at him. "Or just be lazy by the pool?" 

"Thought I might go fishing with Tommy."

Angie's face went grim. "I don't know that I want the girls alone in the house, Joel." 

"Why not?"

"Her friend is going through a tough time," Angie said sympathetically. "Her parents are divorcing and then suddenly we're both gone? I just feel like you should be there for her."

Joel felt his entire body break out in a flush. Angie is so damn thoughtful. It's what he loves the most about her. 

"Okay sweetheart. I'll stay home." 

----------

When you come to the house that sunny Saturday afternoon and knock on the door, Sarah is in the bathroom. Joel hears her calling him from where he sits in the garage reading magazines. 

"Dad? Can you get it?"

Joel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was keeping his promise to Angie, but he didn't want to be thrown into the fucking lions den. 

He feels the sweat accumulating down his back as he tugs the door open. 

You're wearing cut offs and a tight tank top that holds you perfectly. The entire outfit is molded to your body, showing Joel every curve. He can see the red strap of a swimsuit underneath. 

"Hi Joel." 

You smile at him like everything is normal. Like last month you didn't ride him and beg for him to fuck you. 

"Come in," Joel offers. 

"Thanks." 

You're carrying a yellow tote bag covered in lemons. Joel tries to fix his attention on that until Sarah comes to greet you. Southern manners insist he wait with you when everything in him tells him to hightail it the other direction. 

He wills his cock to stay flaccid, but just in case he goes to sit at the kitchen table, muttering that you can join him if you want. You do, slipping into the seat across from him. To your credit you look just as uncomfortable as Joel feels. 

"You want a lemonade?"

"No thanks."

He notices how you twirl a strand of your hair around your finger before anxiously picking at the pale blue polish on your nails. 

"I just wanted to say thank you for not saying anything to Sarah about. You know."

"Of course," Joel says with his neck bobbing as he swallows. "I know how close you two are." 

He doesn't add the other things. I can't stop thinking about it. I want you gagging on my thick cock. I want you bouncing on it again. I wanna fuck you full of my cum. 

"I'm really sorry, Joel."

You say it so sweetly and filled with so much regret that Joel feels like a perfect asshole. Here you are anguished about the entire thing and he's been getting his rocks off to it since it happened. 

Sarah's footsteps are heard on the stairs and you both look to her as she enters the kitchen. 

"Let's go swimming," she announces, grabbing you by the wrist. You giggle, following your friend out into the backyard where the glittering pool awaits. 

Joel tells himself that he just wants to tidy up the house, but it's just denial on his part. From the kitchen he can see into the backyard where the two of you jump into the pool, splashing and giggling. 

He focuses on you, watching the skimpy style of your suit cut into your ass, leaving most of it on display as you pull yourself out of the pool. Was it done intentionally? Were you hoping he'd see? 

Dirty old pervert. She thought she was coming over to see a friend. Not to entertain you. 

Still he watches as you oil yourself up, tugging down the collar of your swimsuit to get as much of your flesh as possible. You look so good from where he's standing, all sun kissed. He can still recall the silky smooth of your thighs. 

He forces himself to putter around the house, not letting himself linger at the windows. He tries to ignore the sound of you splashing. 

When his stomach begins to growl he heads for the fridge, barely able to hold in the groan when he sees you already there, your head ducked in as you search for something. You're completely soaked, your hair damp over your shoulders. The cold of the fridge and your damp suit have your nipples poking through your suit, absolutely begging for his mouth. You must notice Joel because you straighten, looking concerned. 

"Sorry," you say, your body dripping onto the ceramic tile. "Sarah said you had popsicles? She wanted one."

Joel hides the grimace at your words, his cock twitching curiously at the image of you soaking wet and licking a Popsicle. 

"We're all out," he lies. 

"I'll tell Sarah." 

Joel doesn't answer, but he watches your ass jump deliciously as you jog back outside through the sliding doors. 

He runs to the bathroom, the door barely closed as he tugs his cock out of his jeans. He spits into his palm and begins to jerks himself off. Images of your wet body in that skintight suit have him throbbing and releasing ropy strings of cum within seconds.  

He looks up into the mirror and sees the flush to his cheeks. The way his mouth is wet and rouged from biting his moans back. He’s fucking disgusting. But at least now he can get back to normal. Now he can order pizza and eat it with you both before retiring early. 

The pizza arrives just as you and Sarah come in, citing that it's getting cold. You're both wearing the towels around your bodies, but Joel can't help but notice that yours is slipping down, affording him a generous glance if you pointed nipples once more. 

"Gotta send out some quotes," he tells you both as he hands over the BBQ chicken pizza. "You two have a good night."

 He recuses himself to his home office beside the garage, thankful that he made it the entire day without one misstep. There have been too many close calls and too much tension and all of it on his end. He tries to ignore everything and focus on his work. 

"Done in the shower if you want it!" 

Your muffled voice calls out to Sarah, startling Joel from just staring at his computer. 

"Thanks!"

He hears his daughter enter into the washroom, the shower running. The gentle sound of footsteps on carpet stop outside his office door and Joel realizes he's barely breathing. He knows you’re standing on the other side.

Don't come in. 

He watches passively as the door to his office is cracked open and your head peeks in. 

"Hey, can we talk?" 

He's safe behind the desk, he figures. If he does get hard you won't be able to see it. He gives you a patient smile. 

"Of course. Come in."

He regrets it the second he says it because when you come around the door and close it behind you, he sees that you're just wrapped in a towel. You stand on the other side of his desk, all concern and nervous lip biting. 

"I just wanted you to know that when all that stuff happened last month I was in a really bad place," you explain. 

Joel hears you speaking but all he can focus on is that your toenails are peach. That your legs are kissed from the sun and bare. That your breasts swell under the towel. Then he realizes you've stopped talking. You're staring at him quizzically. Shit, did you ask him a question? His chair creaks as he leans back in it. 

"We don't have to keep going over this. I understand." 

You step closer to the desk, nodding. 

"I know. But it's important to me that you know."

Joel feels himself relax and he shuts the laptop. Maybe this evening won't be as stressful as he thought. You’re being mature about everything and he doesn’t want you to be in more pain. Your parents are splitting up, you need support.

"It's important for you to know that I didn't plan it or anything," you emphasize.  

"Okay."

"Not like this time." 

Joel is nodding in understanding when he suddenly freezes. 

"Wait what did you just say?" 

He sees the small curl to the corner of your mouth. You’re amused.

"Sarah mentioned Angie was gone for the weekend. So I told her I was having trouble with my parents and asked if I could stay here. It was the only way I could think of to see you again that wasn't suspicious."  

Joel’s eyes go wide. You make an exaggerated pout when he doesn’t answer.

"Joel I can't stop thinking about how it felt to ride your cock that night." 

Joel almost gasps with how hard he gets at your confession. The head beading with pre-cum, soaking his boxers. 

"I can't stop thinking about that night," you say before slowly slinking towards him when he still doesn't answer. "And I don't think you can either." 

It takes a moment for the words to completely register, but when they do Joel makes sure to lean forward, covering his throbbing erection. 

"You need to leave," he says with what he is praying sounds like authority. "We ain't doing this again." 

Please leave. Please fucking leave. I'm not strong enough. 

"I need something to cum on," you say.

"I don't care," Joel says quickly, his eyes on the floor. "Get out."

"Uh uh," you tease with a smile. "Lean back." 

"Leave."

"Show me."

Joel's cheeks are bright red, sending a thrill through you. With a dejected sigh he moves backward in his office chair, removing his arm from where it was resting over his lap. The thickness of his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans and he spreads his legs wide, almost challenging. 

"I forgot how big you were Joel," you breathe, coming to stand in between his parted legs. Your hands land on his shoulders so you can lean forward, your mouth at his ear. 

"Remember how it looked fucking my pussy?" 

Joel says nothing but you see his neck bob when he swallows. He's angry and horny and frustration pours off of him in waves. 

"You've had your fun, now get out." 

 You grin to yourself before shaking your head. 

"You don't want me to leave."

Joel opens his mouth to tell you exactly that when your fingers come to the towel folded under your collarbone. Before he can say anything you've unravelled it, letting the towel drop to the floor at your feet. 

"Jesus," Joel croaks. He's never seen your fully naked body before, and now that he has he'll never forget it. All lush curves and perfect fucking tits that make his mouth go dry. Your sweet pussy glistens with arousal. 

"It's okay Joel," you whisper softly as you step towards him, drawing his big palms up with yours. He doesn't fight you on it, not even when you begin pressing them against your waist. "You can touch."

You're still damp from the shower and you smell like his wife's shampoo.

"Shouldn't," he says in a slur, even as his hands grip tightly around your naked waist, pulling you towards him.  

"You should," you coo as you lower yourself into his lap. "We both know how good it feels." 

Your knees are on either side of his thick thighs, holding yourself just above him until you take his cock out from his jeans. Joel says nothing, only watching passively. He can't control it, he can't deny you, and he was an idiot to think he could.  His cock is throbbing by the time you bring him out of his pants, the head sticky with pre-cum. 

"You want me to stop?" You ask playfully, your thumb tracing the slit as he shivers. "You want me to leave?" 

Your hand is going around the shaft and tugging when he tries to answer. Joel groans under his breath. 

"We shouldn't..." Joel says it but there's no power behind it, especially when your hand slides down the base, twisting when you reach the springy hair there dense and lush.

"We really shouldn't," you whisper, your mouth sensual as you bite your lower lip in a mockery of regret. "It would be so bad of us."  

You tease the tip of him between your pussy lips, gliding the head between the seam, tickling your clit. Joel feels his eyes roll back at the pleasurable sensation before he forces them open so he can watch. 

"You think about me when you're with her don't you?" You whisper with a Cheshshire grin. "You think about fucking this tight little cunt when you're with your wife, don't you Joel?"

Yes, he does. But he'll never admit that to you. Instead he's silent, just watching you line the head up with your dripping hole.  It looks so good, so perfect and wet. The warmth of you teases the head of his cock and he suddenly can’t take it anymore.

"Put it in," Joel instructs throatily. 

You nod excitedly, crouching and just about to lower yourself onto his length when the shower down the hall suddenly turns off. Your eyes go wide, the realization that Sarah is going to be exiting the shower any second. 

“I better go.”

But Joel is in a frenzy, the scent of you in the air and your wet cunt dripping onto his cock. 

“You wanted this cock," Joel murmurs before grabbing your thighs and spreading them widely over his lap. "Show me how much you want it."

You gasp at the intrusion of his thick cock, your hands flying to lace around his neck as he urges you to take him deeper. 

"She's she's gonna. . . Gonna be out," you groan, sinking into his lap.

He feels you hesitate before he starts rolling his hips and you welcome him deep. You don't want to fight it. 

"Just for a minute," Joel says, pulling you further down onto it. Your thighs spread and he watches your pussy swallow him. “Show me how bad you want this cock.”

"I do," you groan with your head lolling back. "But we're gonna get caught.”

Despite this your cunt twitches around him, your eyes beginning to shutter.

"Show me how you fuck a married man," Joel growls against your temple, starting to bounce you in his lap. "Remind me why I need this cunt."

Instinctively at his words you start to bounce on it. It's wrong, it's so fucking wrong but it gets you so wet. You're rolling your hips when you hear the door to the bathroom creak open. You nearly leap out of your skin. You shoot a wide eyed look of concern at Joel. He raises a forefinger to his plush lips, signalling for you to be quiet. 

You try to pull yourself off of Joel's lap but he shakes his head before burying himself deeper into you. He puts his hand over your mouth when you begin to whine. 

Your feet don't touch the ground. They just bounce in the air as he fucks up into your swollen cunt. You're drifting into a haze of pleasure when there's a knock at the door and Sarah's voice floats in. 

"Dad, have you seen---" 

You're bouncing on his lap, your tits jumping. Joel gropes them, his eyes on your body even as he speaks. 

"Your friend was in the backyard last time I checked," Joel says as he fucks up into you, watching the way your brows knit together. "Try there." 

"Okay."

Sarah leaves the hallway and Joel can only grin at your cock -drunk expression. You’re close, and it only takes a practised rub of his thumb on your clit to have you whining into his palm, your arousal dripping down his cock. He pulls you off of him, amused at the soft whine you utter. 

"Sarah's gonna figure out pretty quick that you're not out there," he tells you. "Head out." 

He says it with authority and for once you listen. You nod, pulling the towel back around your body and slipping out the door. Joel is still sitting here, his cock hard and soaked with you. 

----------

It's only a matter of time before he hears the two of you giggling as you watch a movie, chattering away. He knows Sarah pretty well, she'll be asleep soon. She's never been able to stay awake during any movie they start this late. 

Your laughter peals through the house and Joel feels his tummy tighten. When he sees his cock lengthening under his sweats he's disgusted. 

What the fuck is wrong with him? The shit he said and did. That wasn't him! He's never talked like that. And yet the memory already serves to get him throbbing. He should go to bed, should do anything but sit here turned on out of his mind. He hears padding of feet and knows that you and Sarah must be heading to bed.  

“Night Dad!”

“Night babygirl.”

He waits for the door to shut, counting fifteen minutes before exiting the office. He sees no lights on under his daughter's door. Good, you're both asleep. He creeps towards the kitchen, planning on grabbing a piece of pizza and a water before retiring for the night. He's wandering in the dark home on his way when a shape on the couch stops him. 

It's you, sleeping on the couch. You're wearing a skimpy pyjama shorts and white tank top. Your breasts are rising and falling with each inhale of breath. He comes closer, standing next to the sofa and watching you sleep. 

You’re beautiful like this. All vulnerable, your face smooth. He can't stop looking at your tits through your shirt, missing them already. He can't help it; they fit so perfectly in his hands. Without further thought he tugs the shirt down, letting your breasts spill out and the nipples are already tight buds when they touch the air  You stir briefly at the sensation but remain blissfully asleep.

Joel watches your face, waiting for you to do anything but you continue to sleep. Your lips are parted as you inhale softly. Joel feels hypnotized as he pulls his heavy cock from his sweatpants, already drooling with pre-cum. 

He presses the warm, spongy tip of his cock to your soft lips, feeling like every nerve in him is on fire the second they touch. Pre-cum clings to your pouty, parted lips when he pulls back and he feels his balls tighten at the sight.

Just a little inside, he reasons. You'll never know. Your mouth is so warm and tight and he'll stop before you wake up. 

With slow precision he slips the head between your parted lips, hissing at the wet scorch of your mouth. He feeds his cock slowly into the welcoming warmth, eyes fixed on your face. You’re still placid, huffing a bit in your sleep before settling again.

It’s so wrong to take you like this but Joel can’t stop himself. He saws in and out of your mouth and his movements are frustratingly slow. The tip of his cock is coated in your saliva, but he's desperate to go deeper. He can't stop himself. He thrusts in, feeding it over your wet tongue with a grunt. 

He's hardly surprised when you suddenly blink your eyes open. You're groggy from sleep when his find him standing next to the sofa. His thick, hard cock slowly flexing into your mouth.  You go to pull back in surprise but his hand cradles the back of your skull, keeping you in place. 

"You're okay," he murmurs down at you. "Shhhh."  

He tenses and waits for you to pull back from him. He is sure he'll hear your screaming echo through the house. And he'd deserve it: he's been fucking your mouth for the last two minutes. He's surprised when instead you move your face forward, sucking him deeper. Lightning bolts shoot down from the top of his head and he holds in a moan. 

Your hand comes to stroke the base of his fat cock as your mouth forms a tighter O shape. Joel tilts back, pelvis jutting forward into your mouth. You take him down to the base, your head bobbing along him. 

He watches you take him deeper into your mouth, drooling around him with your eyes gazing up at him. He can see your free hand snake down under the blankets, rubbing furiously and he grins.

"You wanted this didn't you?" 

You nod shallowly around his girth, letting him shove his cock deeper down your throat. He fucks your face slowly, taking his time to pull out, your bottom lip cradling the head before thrusting in over your waiting tongue. 

Joel slowly removes himself from your mouth. He isn't going to be satisfied with fucking just your throat. Wordlessly he tugs the blanket off of your lower half, not even stopping to look at you when he hooks his thick fingers around the waistband of your pyjama pants. You lift up, helping him to tug them off and toss them onto the floor. 

You don't speak; unlike last time you both know you have to be quick and quiet. Sarah could wake up at any minute. That’s part of what makes it hot for you, knowing that your best friend’s dad has his thick cock out, ready to fuck you on the family couch.

Joel tugs his sweatpants all the way off, throwing them to the end of the couch before crawling over you. His large body covers you and its mere seconds before he's pressing his cock against your slippery pussy lips. 

He pulls down your tank top more, wanting your tits to be fully exposed to him. The pink nipples harden under his ravenous gaze. You murmur in surprise when he tilts you back, lifting your breast to his mouth and sucking in one achy nipple. 

You gasp at the sensation, your cunt tightening around his cock. Joel groans against your chest, his big hand hand moving to do the same with the other. Soon enough your nipples are wet with his saliva. He watches your head fall back, already so turned on about the illicitness of what's going on. Joel grins wolfishly, grabbing his throbbing cock by the base and slapping it against your clit. 

"You want this married cock?" Joel grunts down at you quietly, watching as your eyes fight to stay open on his face. 

"Yes," you slur already drunk on him and the moment. "Fuck yes I want your married cock."

 You give a little whine, your body shifting under him desperate for friction. Joel watches the needy way you move for him, trying to urge the head of his cock between your spread thighs.

"Beg for it," Joel whispers gravelly. His voice is hard and hushed in the darkness. 

"Please," you whisper without any hesitation. "I need it in me." 

Joel feels heady with power when he hears your desperate supplication. Your hips are arching to meet his. 

"Again," he hisses, slapping his cock harsher against your mound. You whimper back, tits bouncing as you take in the jolt of pleasure. 

"I'll do anything you want," you promise, rolling your hips up against him. He releases his cock, letting your hips maneuver until he's nestled at your entrance. "I'll give you anything, anything. Just fuck me with your big cock, please." 

Joel should make you keep begging for all you've put him through, but you're soaking him and he hasn't even entered you yet. If he wasn't rushed he'd take you apart piece by piece until your were a slobbering mess. But he needs to rush. 

He holds himself on his forearms, caging you underneath him and grunting as he starts to feed his cock into you. Your arms go around his shoulders before you bury your face in his neck. 

Fuck you're tight. Your pussy a velvet clench that welcomes him, moulding around him. He grunts into your hair as he buries himself deeper, holding in groans when he hears your desperate whimpers for him to go deeper. 

When your ass hits his pelvis you swallow and whimper lustily in his ear. 

"M'so full, Mr. Miller." 

Joel has to clench just teeth from moaning. You know exactly what you're doing using that name and you both know it. You make an achy groaning sound, like he’s so fuck you can barely stand it.

He thrusts into you, watching with satisfaction as your tits jiggle deliciously for him. He doesn't see the smile spreading across your features. And now for the first time in the evening you speak in that low, seductive purr.

"Fucking a college girl with your married cock," you say nibbling his ear, feeling him falter. "And you're so hard aren't you? You like doing bad things, huh?" 

Joel grits his teeth, trying to ignore you and just cum. You're just a vessel for his seed right now. Your body bows underneath him, pliant and willing. 

"Is that it, Joel? You pretend to be a good man but at the end of the day look at you," you say, letting him bounce you harshly along his cock. "Fucking a girl half your age on your couch when your wife is out of town." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Joel gives a growl and you gasp as he maneuvers your legs up, pressing them between your bodies. He's folding you in half and before you can say anything he's entering you brutally once more.  

The slaps of his balls against your ass are no longer muffled, but neither of you notice. You're both so far gone, practically animalistic at this point. Joel is sweating, his hair falling into his eyes as he draws out and slams back into you. He enjoys the sight of your tits rippling when he does. 

"Just admit it," your murmur between slaps as you bounce under him. "Admit you wanted to do this a month ago."

"I did," Joel grunts into your neck even though it shames him to admit it. "I did okay?" 

"Yeah, you did," you say with a soft giggle that’s girlish and cruel. "You wanted this pussy." 

His hips slap against your ass more quickly, several harsh thrusts before he stops, panting. You're smiling up at him, looking more devious than normal. He grips your wrists, holding them above your head, stretching you out before he pulls out and slams back into you. 

"You gonna shoot your cum deep, Joel?" You ask with your tits bouncing in his face as he fucks you into the sofa. "Gonna watch me push it out?"

He groans gently as he slaps his hips against yours, his cock sawing in and out of you. He watches your body twitch, your hips rolling the best they can in your position. And then suddenly he feels his release imminent.

He pulls out of you, going to kneel on either side of your waist. You pout in disappointment. He grunts, jerking himself off aggressively, his teeth clenched and his wrist moving jerkily. You cup your breasts, silently presenting him his target. His cum soon splashes over your tits in milky ropes as he breathes raggedly. 

And he should be finished. He's fucked you, he's cum. You're both panting and flushed but Joel is mortified to find he's not close to being finished.

"I'm still fucking hard," Joel groans.

He's still so turned on, shocked at how good you feel even after he's cum. It's been decades since he could fuck like this. He still sits up on his knees, but now he taps your thigh.

"Ass up. Now." 

You do as he asks, presenting yourself to him without question. He grips handfuls of your ass, letting them fall together and clap for him before marvelling at your messy pussy as you arch your back for him. You're so fucking puffy and slick. Once again he slides in, pressing you into the couch underneath him. 

You both gasp at how good it feels, your hand going to clench his stationed on your hip. Joel's mouth is at your ear. 

"Just tonight and never again." 

He needs to make it clear that after tonight this is done. No more games, no more seductions. This one night is all you get. He gradually picks up speed, watching your ass jump as he pulls out and thrusts as deep as possible. You look so good from this angle, all submissive.  

"Need more," you groan over your shoulder. 

"You're gettin' more sweetheart," Joel pants against your ear before straightening, his hands coming to spread your cheeks so he can watch himself pulling out. You coat the length of his cock in cum, leaving it shiny when he pulls out to admire how it looks. You feel even better when he then feeds it back into your twitching pussy. 

"Yes, yes," you moan quietly, your hands gripping the arm of the couch in front of you. You bury your face in the pillow, not wanting your moans to be heard. You know you're drooling, your body his to use and to fuck.  

"Gonna fuck your ass next," Joel promises as he thrusts, not knowing where this beast inside him came from. He gives your ass a slap. "You want that? Want me to fuck this sweet little ass?" 

You want to nod but all your energy has left you; you just lay there and take him, feeling his fat cock filling you to the brim over and over. He forces your wrists behind your back, pinning them there at the base of your spine as he drives himself deeper. You're at his mercy and the realization makes everything in him tighten. He can do whatever he wants with you tonight.

"Joel you're so deep," you moan into the couch cushion, your body jolting with every jerk of his hips.

The blanket is forgotten on the ground, your naked bodies writhing on the couch in the very spot where you first rode him. Only now instead of being a reluctant participant Joel is in full control, his large body covering yours, flattening you against the cushions as he fucks into you from behind. 

"I fucking deserve this," Joel mutters out between thrusts, tilting back his head. "Deserve to fuck this pretty pussy all night don't I?"

"Yes," you slur. 

Your head tilts to the side, your cheek crushed against the cushion. Drool seeps out the corner of your mouth, your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure overtakes your body. 

Joel feels animalistic, he feels powerful looking down at your body at his mercy. For a moment he feels affection for how much you clearly want this and want him. The look on your face is pure bliss. 

"Gonna bounce for me after this," Joel tells you in an urgent whisper. "Gonna fuck you in my bed and you're gonna bounce on my cock."

"Yes." 

"Gonna fuck you until you can't move," Joel promises, feeling lightheaded at the possibility of fucking you in that most sacred space. 

Your eyes crack open and you glance up over your shoulder to see him red-faced, shiny with sweat, his teeth bared. His eyes are bright and almost feral, like a wild animal. He's beautiful in his ferocity. 

"Finish inside me, Joel."

Joel knows that he should stop right now. He should grab a condom. He should check that you're on the pill. He should do so many things but all Joel can think of is filling you full of his seed. Of watching it drip out of your used pussy. 

"I need to feel you cum inside," you groan gently, looking at him over your shoulder. "Please fuck your cum deep in me, daddy." 

Joel holds in an eye roll.

This daddy shit again. 

He thinks about ignoring it or denying you a chance to hear him say it. But you've been so good for him, so eager and so fucking tight. He's never going to forget the velvet clutch of you, how you're perfectly moulded for him, how responsive you are. He lowers his mouth to your ear, releasing your hands. 

"Daddy's gonna fuck his cum so deep," Joel relents. "Gonna fuck you with his married cock. Gonna fuck his cum so deep you’ll be dripping for days." 

"Fuck, yes," you moan into the pillows, your ass jiggling with every thrust. "Fuck it deep, Daddy!"

He watches the frenzy you work yourself into, gripping the side of the sofa and fucking yourself on Joel's cock by moving yourself back and forth. It's only seconds before you cum hard, drowning Joel's cock in arousal once more as your eyes pinch tightly. 

"Daddy . . .  Daddy . . .  Daddy . . . "

It's a murmured chorus, a desperate plea as you ride your high, collapsing forward, only to have Joel continue pounding into you.  Joel is so close, he feels his balls tightening as he fucks into you with brutality, the sharp slaps filling the room. 

"Gonna take my cum like a good little whore," He groans, his cock almost a blur as he slides in and out of you. He pulls himself completely out before burying himself once more.  

"Fuck yea I am," you moan softly, wishing you could see his face as he pounds into you. "I'm your good little cum-whore, Daddy."

Something about that phrase in your broken, whimpering voice has him there at the edge. His hands go to yours curled over the couch arm once more. He covers them with his own, using the momentum to pound into you as deep as physically possible. You head jerks with the power of his body driving into yours, your body completely at his mercy, your ass rippling with each thrust of him.

"Take Daddy's cum now," Joel groans, pushing in as deep as he can go. "Take it and---"

Anything else Joel was about to say vanishes as the room lights up and the familiar visage of his wife Angie appears her hand on the light switch.

She looks confusedly around before her eyes rest on the scene before her. She looks to see her husband curled over you, his cock wet and free of a condom. She sees the way your eyes are rolled body and how your body is positioned, succumbing to his violent thrusts before caught, Joel attempts to stop. 

But he's too far gone, the buildup already mounting and before Joel can move you off of him or do something to salvage this, he comes violently.  

And then so do you. 

[voxslays]

his second choice part 2? 👀👉👈

His Second Choice: Part 2

Lucifer’s Daughter?

Y/N started to laugh in disbelief. There was no way that Lucifer (and Lillith’s) daughter would come here—to heaven—for a meeting. Especially not with the Seraphims. They would eat her alive.

The idea was completely preposterous.

Although, a part of Y/N was somewhat curious about this hell-born child of Lucifer’s. What was hell like? Why would she need a meeting with the Seraphims? How old was the daughter of the Morning-star? What was the so-called ‘Princess of Hell’ like?

A million different questions zoomed through her brain. It wasn’t long before Y/N completely zoned the world out, focusing only on her many questions about Charlie.

“Y/N!” Evangeline shouted, stirring Y/N from her previous thoughts. 

“Sorry!” Y/N said quickly.

“Its alright, N/N, its just, you need to attend the heavenly court hearing in an hour-”

“An hour!?” Y/N shouted, clearly panicked. “Isn’t that Lucifer’s daughter’s hearing!?” she shook her sister, trying to get the answer out of her. Instead, making Angie dizzy.

Evangeline looked into her sister’s bright eyes. The golden sun reflecting through the window onto her hair, giving it that signature brilliant, gleaming, golden glow.

“I’m sorry.” was all she could say. Looking into the eyes of her now desolate looking sister. 

Y/N ran out of the house, much to the dismay of Evangeline, who was now calling her name. She picked up the ends of her long, flowing skirt, sprinting into the main streets of the city district of Heaven.

Before long, she was met with the large golden doors that lead her into the center of the Angelic court. The very place where Lucifer went on trial, and was cast down with Lillith.

Y/N took a deep gasp of air, stepping inside the gleaming resplendent building. Inside, angels from all seven districts of Heaven, (each run by a different heavenly virtue), and ontop of it all, in the very center of the stands—Emily and Sera, the Seraphims. Of whom, had forced her to come to this depressing place. The ones who were forcing her to come face to face with her previous lover’s daughter.

Once Y/N took her seat in the crowd and greeted her fellow angelic acquaintances, Sera yelled “Court is now in session!” Before the crowd turned to the doors, where two demons walked in. A gray moth, with white hair, and a large X across her eye. The other, a tall blonde female, with long blonde hair and rosy cheeks. She must be Lucifer’s daughter…

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

RL Fluff Relationship Hcs

(A/N- We need more fluff in this fandom, like DAMN THE ANGST BE SAD ;-;)

(Characters Included- Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and Donna)

(Warning: Mild swearing and of course fluff)

🫀Bela Dimitrescu🫀

- She is your shield. She tries her hardest to keep you safe from any danger the best she can.

- When you’re out somewhere together and she sees that you’re cold she will take off her jacket and have you put it on saying that she insists. Then will wrap one arm around your waist to provide extra warmth.

- This girl can cook. She secretly loves it when you go up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist while she’s cooking.

- Keeps every single gift you give her and cherishes each memory it holds.

- In the middle of the night, when both of you can’t sleep, she likes to talk to you and reminiscence on shared memories together. Sometimes she tells you stories about the funny things Cass and Dani did when they were kids.

☕️Cassandra Dimitrescu☕️

- This flirt makes it her goal to make sure that you get flustered at least three times a day.

- It’s RARE to get her flustered but if you succeed in getting her all flustered, it is truly a wonderful sight to see.

- She loves to tell you about the latest performance she did and how she feels about them (majority of the time she’s very happy with the outcome of the performance)

- Okay but imagine stargazing with Cassandra. Or walking through the forest with her while she tells you dramatic stories about her life.

- If you go watch her perform without telling her, she would be so surprised and give you a wink before getting her shit together and proceeds on with the play.

🛹Daniela Dimitrescu🛹

- Friends to lovers trope. (Well more like BEST friends to lovers)

- When the both of you go to a party she’ll always have her eyes on you in admiration and adoration. She just loves seeing you so happy.

- Tells all of her skater bros and family about you. They know almost everything about you because of her rambling sessions about you.

- She is always able to make you laugh, especially when you two are hanging out with Angie (the chaos between those two is hilarious)

- Loves to show off some of her skating tricks. If you praise her for them she would give you the biggest smile. Her smile is so damn contagious.

💐Donna Beneviento💐

- This woman loves you so very much.

- At the beginning of your relationship she feared that you’ll leave her one day (give this poor girl a hug) BUT after lots of reassurance from you, she starts to believe that you won’t leave.

- She loves giving you hugs. Whenever she hugs you she’s always a bit tense but she still gives the BEST hugs (prove me wrong)

- The first time y’all had an heart-to-heart conversation about how much you love each other, she got so happy that she cried tears of happiness.

- If you have any scars, stretch marks, freckles, or whatever she likes to trace and kiss them softly. It’s her way of showing you that she loves every single part of you.

Masterlist

[garfunklefield]

Hi heres my request idea, Using fleshlight on handcuffed gojo satoru. Fem dom reader ^^

Vanilla Cream Pie

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/satoru gojo Warnings: fem!dom, sub gojo, male whimpering is PRESENT, degradation, fleshlight, light bondage, handcuffs, crying, multiple orgasms, nipple play, light choking, overstimulation Word count: 2226 words DESC: Satoru's punishment for not doing the dishes was simple. You were going to make him cum until he cries :D

Hiiiiii I hope you guys like this! I took some creative liberties idk I just love writing sub gojo. Us sub gojo girlies don't get fed enough I feel likeee <3 Check my pinned masterlist for more!!

“Is this really necessary?” Your lovely and very much in trouble husband asked as you clamped your pink handcuffs around his wrist. You took the chain and fed it through the top of your headboard, before putting the other handcuff on his other wrist. This ensured that he was totally and utterly trapped, with his hands hanging above his head. 

Why, may you ask, were you handcuffing your husband to your shared bed at 9 p.m.? Very simple: you had asked him to do the dishes when you left for a girl's day out with your friends at 11 AM. You came back at 5 PM and they were not done, instead, he was napping haphazardly on the couch without a care in the world! So you decided to plot your revenge silently. What was the best way to make a man promise to always listen to you and not nap on your shared couch? Sexual torture!

That meant you were going to buy new pink handcuffs and the most expensive fleshlight you could find, courtesy of Satoru’s credit card. This will teach him to never mess with you again. 

“You didn’t do the dishes,” you looked back down at him and smiled hollowly. 

Satoru’s eyes widened and a nervous smile formed on his face, “I was going to do them right before you got back but I… got busy.” 

“You fell asleep,” you stated blankly, “And now I’m making you pay.”

He frowned and huffed, blowing some hair out of his face as you made your way to his belt, “Well if you’re going to make me pay can you make me pay for an hour so I can go back to bed?”

You looked back at him and shot him a nasty look which to Satoru “I don’t know social cues” Gojo meant to continue egging you on, “This won’t even be torture anyway. I like getting tied up. It’s my secret fetish. That and the face you make when you’re soooo angy,” he teased mockingly.

Any sane person would give up or better yet slap him in the face at this point, but you knew better. You knew you wouldn’t cave because the results would be magnificent. Breaking him would be better than any other pleasure you could receive. 

Without saying anything you pulled off his belt and tossed it to the side of his room, then got to work on undoing his jeans. He kept spitting nonsense just to get a rise out of you. The more you didn’t pay attention the more your husband kept going.

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice broke through your thoughts when he nudged your head with his own. You tilted your head to his own and smirked, leaning in and forcing him into a sloppy kiss. You never kissed your husband this way with no regard for him or his pleasure. You never kissed him like he was an object waiting to be used until he was no longer needed. 

The fact you never did this made him mad because it … turned him on so much. Satoru tried to pull away to catch his breath and retort with some snarky claim about how you couldn’t get your hands off of him but instead, he was suffocated by your intoxicating tongue, lapping circles into his mouth. 

You tilted your head to the side and felt as he kissed back weaker and weaker, not being able to handle the dominance radiating off of you. 

How. 

Pathetic. 

Satoru “I’m the most dominant guy you’ll ever be with” Gojo couldn’t handle when you took charge in a make-out session? God, you could just laugh. You pulled back and grinned at his expression. His bottom lip was swollen and jutted out into a pout, with his eyes half-lidded and hazily staring at you.

“Pathetic little slut can’t even kiss back…” You teased gently, wiping the back of your hand against your slobbered-covered mouth. 

“I didn’t re…realize you were gonna do it like that,” he looked away and leaned his head back against the headboard, blinking slowly.

“Today's gonna be just like that and if you can’t handle it…” You trailed off and lightly tapped your bottom lip, “I. Don’t. Care.” You’d like it even more if he couldn’t handle it because then it would make the torture all the more worth it. 

Your dominant hand finally managed to pull off his jeans, then you yanked off his boxers to reveal a… throbbing cock. Just from a few kisses, he was already rock-hard and aching to be touched. It was almost cute. Without another word, you stood up and retrieved the expensive Fleshlight. It was perfect and realistic, but not as good as your pussy. 

Satoru wouldn’t get the pleasure of feeling your tight walls today. No, because you couldn’t handle the amount of rounds you were going to put him through. This sex toy could though. It was pink, with a very realistic model of a vagina on the top. 

Your husband eyed it warily, swallowing, “Um… I’ve never used a Fleshlight before like this.”

There’s a first time for everything, right? You crawled back onto the bed and after a quick few seconds of lubing up the toy, you grabbed a hold of his cock. Just at the base, you could feel it twitch in your grasp. It was begging to release all over you and you knew he was dying for it. Satoru wanted so badly to touch you and relieve his boner in the only way he knew how. 

But today. Was. Different.

He was going to pay. 

You gently moved the toy so his tip was edging the beginning of the slit, just playing with him before you sunk it down his length. Gojo made a faint gasp and stiffened the muscles in his legs. His eyes widened before he let out a sigh, “If this is a punishment, I don’t mind babe.”

You didn’t respond to that, carefully placing both hands on either side of the Fleshlight to move it up and down. Sure, you’d just let him think that, all he wanted. Let him think you’d fuck him until he was done. Let him think you wouldn’t milk him until he was sobbing for mercy. Let him be naive in his stupidity. 

“H-hey,” Satoru murmured, staring down at his cock. You had begun to speed up your movements, hearing the faint noises coming from the toy and his cock. In and out, up and down. You knew exactly how it felt for him. Heaven. Heaven that he had no control over. Your husband leaned his head back and exhaled a shaky moan, his back giving in and arching when the Fleshlight was beginning to get to be too much. He hadn’t even cum yet and he was already this sensitive. 

You didn’t give him time to continue his protests, as your mouth found his and your tongue invaded. You sucked onto his lips and used one spare hand to touch up and down his chest. Soft fingers traced circles around his sensitive nipples, flicking and pinching them just to get a rise out of him. He liked it very much. You could tell from the way he tried to break from the kiss to catch his breath. But instead, he was forced to kiss back and moan deep into your mouth. 

“B..baby f-fuck … I’m mm I’m gonna,” Satoru whined as you pulled away, running the hand on his chest up to fondle his neck. You gave it a taut squeeze just to see what would happen. His reaction was a soft groan and his head leaning forward, to find your lips again to defeat his thirst for you. 

“Aw… someone’s desperate, huh?” You cooed, moving your hand to grab his chin, “I didn’t say you could kiss me, did I? No. You’re not kissing me,” with that, you pushed his head back into the bedframe. 

Gojo gasped and arched his back again, quickly forcing his eyes shut and letting out a loud whimper as you realized he was cumming. You didn’t stop the movement of the Fleshlight, instead, you decided to thrust it down on his cock harder. He bit his lip and lurched forward, his arms struggling against his restraints as another wave of pleasure hit him again. 

“Ba-babe… st..stop w..mm hah- f-fuck… I’m.. mm..” His lips pressed together before forming an O shape, with his eyes coming together and rolling back until you saw nothing but the eye whites. Clearly, he had never been this overstimulated a day in his life. When you’d usually go multiple rounds, he’d always pull out to focus on you instead of continuing to thrust. Now you knew. 

Satoru was struggling intently against the pink handcuffs, moving from arching his back to curling inwards. Anything to get the overpowering arousal to cease, just for a moment so he could catch his breath. But you weren’t backing away that easily. His hands clawed back at the headboard and his feet pressed against the mattress, but you simply used one arm to force one of his thighs down and the other to stroke his dick with the Fleshlight. 

“Pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. You can’t even handle getting fucked by a toy? You’re just gonna cry like a little bitch. It’s cute. But fucking pathetic,” you spat, staring at the “most dominant man you had ever dated” like he was a piece of meat. A piece of meat you wanted to touch… so badly. 

You released your arm’s hold of his thigh and grabbed his neck, forcing him down into yet another kiss. He tried to pull away with a loud aroused sob. Your husband's cheeks were shining wet with fresh tears coming down from his eyes, but you didn’t bother to wipe them. You tightened your grip on his neck and watched another orgasm take over his face. As his eyes rolled back and his mouth shot open, letting his tongue loosely hang out the side of his bottom lip.

His body shook as he came again, his hips thrusting into the toy aimlessly like it would do anything to stop the pleasure. You could tell he was getting close to being completely done, but you weren’t finished. You continued to fuck him with the toy, moving your face to kiss him back on his open mouth. Satoru cried eagerly into your kiss and returned it weakly, barely able to keep up with how overstimulated he was becoming. 

It was all too much for him to handle and it turned you on too, you couldn’t deny it, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen to me from now on? Do exactly what I ask, when I ask?” You asked condescendingly, angling yourself back from your husband to see his full body. He was convulsing under the force of the Fleshlight. Completely and utterly a shell of who he was a few moments earlier.

“Y-yes!” He sobbed out, throwing his head back and arching his back again, before he keeled forward into a hunched position, “Pl-please… I’m mm f..fuck I’m s-sorry… Pl..please I-I… I’m sorry!” Satoru cried and cried in a way you had never seen before. He was truly a pitiful little whore, just pleading for you to stop making him cum. 

But you at least wanted him to cum for you one more time. Instead of kissing him harshly, you placed a few delicate kisses on his jaw as he wailed, fighting the handcuffs to be free and touch you. He gasped and leaned into the soft touch, with the Fleshlight still ramming into his cock. 

“Pl..please,” he sniffed, burying his head into your neck when he found the chance, “Mm… I-I can’t…”

“Just one last time for me, okay?” You spoke, running your spare hand through his white hair, “Then I’ll let you be free from your punishment, baby.” Satoru nodded as you spoke, inhaling shakily and biting onto your shoulder for some kind of stability. 

You let out a noise and pulled him in closer, just waiting for your lover to cum again. Just to hear him whimper and whine was music to your ears. It didn’t take very long before he started to convulse and cry out in painful pleasure. Gojo threw his head back again, with his eyes fluttering closed. He bit onto his bottom lip and let a few more tears roll down his cheeks, dripping down onto his bare chest. 

“F-fuck… b-b..baby,” he whimpered, thrusting his hips forward once again as he rode out his orgasm. It must have been intense because he had stopped struggling at that point, giving in to your touch. 

Once he had finally stopped moving, you took the Fleshlight off of his cock. All his cum came out, dribbling onto his lap and on parts of the mattress slowly as if it was coming out from a real pussy. You hadn’t considered this outcome but this would be something for later you to deal with. So you undid the handcuffs from your husband's wrists and watched him slowly slump down onto the mattress. 

“Babe…” He croaked, staring up at you with a helpless expression before continuing, “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

[lovelytsunoda]

stand by me // mick schumacher

summary: the past few seasons have been rough on mick, and sometimes all y/n could do was reassure him that she was there. because sometimes, standing by someone is the best that you can do.

pairing: mick schumacher x female reader

warnings: haas, guenther steiner. mentions of serious crashes. sad mickey, burning of old haas merch, angie makes an appearance

when the night has come, and the moon is the only light we see. i won't cry, no, no, no, i won't shed a tear. just as long as you tell me, say you're gonna stand by me.

it was one thing to watch your boyfriend hit a barrier at two hundred kilometres an hour.

it was a totally different thing for every mechanic in the garage to simply roll their eyes instead of expressing some iota of concern.

“what the fuck is wrong with these people.” y/n huffed, moving to push past the viewing desk, fully intent on fighting guenther in his own garage before louise pulled her back

“it’s not worth it.” the older woman reminded her as she tried to keep a clear head.

micks headset wasn’t working; it was like gary was talking to a wall. nobody knew if mick was okay, and the only reaction she could see from guenther was annoyance. even kevin had come over the comms to ask if mick was okay.

y/n took her headset off, stumbling over to gary as she tried to keep her emotions in check. getting upset wouldn’t be good for anybody, but that crash was bad. the car had essentially split in half, taking mick with it as the session was red flagged.

“gary, is he okay?” she asked shakily, reaching for something to hold on to. “gary, i need to know.”

“i can’t hear him talking, but I can hear movement. i think he’s trying to climb out, which is a good sign.”

she didn’t start breathing again until she knew he was out of the car, knew that her mickey was safe. when they brought him to the medical bay, louise helped her there on shaky legs, and she sat with mick while he called his mom, and then they both cried together.

but from that moment on, they knew his days with haas were numbered.

“gene called me a dead man walking.” his voice sounded so small. he had been transferred to a hospital and taken in for extra observation. his mother was flying in from switzerland, and the fluorescent lights were giving him a headache.

“gene haas better watch his fucking back.” y/n scowled. “what does he know about this goddamn sport? he’s a tax criminal!”

but that day changed things. even though he knew he had y/n in his corner, you could see the clouds in mick schumachers eyes, the little glimpses of his father coming through. he would t talk to her about it, insistent that he could somehow change gene’s mind.

next race weekend, she walked with sad eyes and a heavy heart towards the mercedes motorhome and the one man that she knew would never steer her wrong.

toto wolff had become something almost like a surrogate father for y/n once she had started hanging around the track more. the older man looked out for her when mick couldn’t. toto knew she had never felt at ease in the haas garage, that there was something about the atmosphere in guenther steiners garage that made her uncomfortable.

“hey, toto.” she sighed, sinking into the austrians arms as he opened the office door.

“hey, kiddo. how’s mick doing?”

she frowned, following toto into his office. “he won’t talk about it. he still thinks there’s something he can do, and he shuts me down every time I suggest he start talking another team. I think guenther is stringing him along.”

it hurt that mick was emotionally firewalling her. yes, they still talked, but never about his career. he always shut her down with that sad look of his, or a suggestively placed kiss, attempting to distract her from the topic with the thought of something else.

she was dead worried about him.

“the air is thinner where gunther is from. it’s impairing his ability to think properly.”

she snorted. “toto, I’m worried sick about mick, he needs to talk to someone. you knew his dad. so did bonno. maybe talking to someone who knew micheal will help. I don’t know, but I can’t let this keep going on.”

“I’ll give him a call. you’re doing the best you can, y/n. please don’t beat yourself up over doing or not doing enough. it’s going to take time for mick to feel like himself again.”

“I know. I just wish that there was more I could do.”

later that week, she and mick flew to texas to visit his sister and her boyfriend ian at the family ranch. the moon was high, refracting off the water and illuminating the evergreens. mick and ian sat outside by the fire pit, angie scampering around their feet. gina and y/n were inside the house, stuffing a cardboard bankers box full of old haas merch. it had become glaringly clear to both women that mick wasn't likely to have a seat the following season.

and mick wasn't taking it well. he was still processing it, but there had been times where she felt like the man she loved would cry himself to sleep. she had the suspicion that once she went to sleep, her lover began to cry, so that she would never see him in such pain.

gina and y/n came outside, two cardboard boxes in hand as they met the men by the fire pit. they had beer bottles in hand and sad smiles on their faces as y/n rejoined her boyfriend, sitting on his lap before gently kissing his cheek.

"don't think about it, mickey. you've talked to toto, right? and jost? you aren't completely out of options for next year." y/n frowned, running her thumb over mick's bare arm. "don't give up hope just yet."

mick kissed her softly, resting his cheek against her skin. "why did you put all of my old haas merch in a cardboard box?"

"because we're burning it." she said matter-of-factly, getting to her feet and grabbing a baseball cap from the top of the box. "it'll be cathartic."

she stood in front of the fire pit, listening to the wooden logs crackle and pop as she frisbee-threw the cap into the fire, watching the fabric catch fire. she flipped the bird at the burning object with both fingers, shouting insults at guenther steiner as she watched it burn.

“take that you old austrian bastard. I bet gunethers cock is like, minuscule and that’s why he has to call his boyfriend gene before he makes any decisions.”

mick laughed a little, pulling a polo shirt out of the box.

“I mean come in now, he calls gene more than he calls his wife.” gina added. “who fucking does that? if I was his wife I’d be asking for a divorce right about now.”

mick balled up the shirt in his hands, punting it into the fire as if it was a baseball. the fabric caught fire instantly, swallowed by the orange flames as they spread across the royal blue fabric, leaving blackened ash in its wake.

“you’re right.” mick exhales, putting an arm around his girlfriend . “that felt really good.”

lifting their beer bottles to the sky and turning up the stereo, all summer long by kid rock blasting loud enough that the speakers shook, the family sang along, throwing various haas-related memorabilia into the fire and watching it go up in a cloud of dark grey smoke.

“they made ugly-ass merch anyways.”

“uh, guys, is it supposed to smell this rancid?” ian asked, scrunching up his face at the smell of burning plastic and fabric.

“oh fuck.”

“we didn’t think this through! ian, come help me get some water to put this out with.”

ian and gina ran off to get water, angie barking after them as mick and y/n fanned at the fire, laughing crazily as they used their sweaters as fans, hoping to tamp down some of the blaze.

“hey, babe, I want to tell you something.” mick smiled. “I want you to be the first to know.”

giving up on fanning the fire, as the oxygen was making the situation worse, y/n paused, her wool sweater falling limp in her hands as she looked at her lover.

“toto wants me to sign as a reserve driver next year. he’s already lost nyck to alphatauri and I think stoffel is going to aston martin. if haas drop me, I still have options. I can still come back to the field somehow.”

“oh, mickey, that’s wonderful.” y/n gushed, throwing her sweater down on a deck chair before moving over to mick and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” mick reminded her, kissing her softly, cradling her body in his arms as they swayed back and forth to ‘hero’ by enrique iglesias, the song playing softly in the background as they kissed in the stinky firelight.

angie padded towards the couple, nuzzling into y/n’s leg as they stared lovingly into each others eyes.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, mickey.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @lorarri @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz

[norrisreads]

Photograph #MS47

PAIRING: mick schumacher x reader

SUMMARY: scrolling through photos, you’ve found some photos that holds great memory and can’t help but to reminisce the moment

WARNING: FLUFF! the cutest and shortest fic i’ve written 😭💗

FC: sooyaaa__ on ig

Masterlist

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you are the type of person who’d rather have tons of pictures of your love ones rather than yourself and being that type of person means you’d have to transfer pictures regularly to clear up space.

films and dslr wasn’t really ideally for you as you’ve never really taken photography as something you’d think of doing it for life but rather just taking pictures as a memory.

here you are laying on your bed, head laid on the headboard and your phone being supported by your pillow looking through your gallery, you were given a week break off school and since icloud have been notifying that your storage has been used up, you guessed it’s time for your monthly delete session.

the first picture, you got to was a picture of you celebrating with mick’s family on Christmas. Your family weren’t that big on celebrating Christmas, as someone who’s been born to a family with no siblings, it can be quite lonely sometimes and mick thought it’ll be a great idea for you to celebrate christmas with his family.

Corinna, Michael, Gina and you were close, you would sometimes pay them a visit when school hadn’t really taken a huge stress of you. Days when mick would go for his race, you’d be there standing alongside with his family and seeing his face in search of you and his face automatically brighten up once he sees you was something you’d enjoy seeing.

You aren’t a huge dog lover, especially when you grew up with 2 tabby cats, named after your favourite characters last name, reid and green. When you first met angie, it took quite a convincing from mick for you to be close to angie, but the more you came over the more angie had taken a liking to you.

The photo was one of the core memory, and a photo you’d always love to talk about because that was the moment between mick and you was something you will always treasure.

Then a photo of mick walking through the streets of japan with you were found. It was rare for you to be there for him in races, and when you told him that you’ve decide to accompany him to the Asia races because it was closer to your home country and you’re able to make a quick stop to your home afterwards, he was happy and quickly booked tickets for you.

The stop to japan was the first ever time you had stepped foot in Japan, and with mick knowing this was your first ever visit, he wanted to make it extra special.

But with the flight being delayed, the both of you happened to reach around 10PM where most of the shops were closed or closing soon , so mick and you were casually taking walks nearby the hotel finding for food places that was open.

In the end the both of you settled on 7-eleven food.

Mick had taken multiple photos of you which of course was taken on his phone, one photo was captured with you posing along the streets.

“stand there babe, you look beautiful, let me take a photo”

mick took out his phone from his pockets, and signalled you a countdown and took the photo.

“perfect”

After scrolling through photos you’ve selected to transfer them to your thumb-drive, you’ve finally found the one photo that you’ve been trying to find.

A photo of mick during the afterparty of your wedding, it was held privately within close friends, family and of course drivers were invited. You had ask for Daniel to take photos for your wedding, and you could say he has a talent in it.

By the end of the day, Daniel dropped you a link that had 200+ photos of your wedding and you and mick had went through all the photos in one sitting in the living room of your new home.

You settled on a photograph of mick wearing a suit being nervous on walking down the altar and mick settled on a photograph of you in the wedding dress, because the moment mick saw you walking down the altar with the wedding dress on, he realised you’re the woman he would love to be with till the end.

“still transferring the photos?”

there he was, walking towards you with a hot chocolate and a bunch of marshmallows floating around, just the way you like it.

“yeah, my storage has given up on me, which means i’ll need to transfer more photos” you took a sip and placed it by your bedside.

“these are our wedding photos right? we have these photos hung, and it’s in the folder Daniel send us, you can just delete them away my love” mick said while looking at the photos that had successfully transferred to your laptop.

“that’s cruel, i love to have them on my phone. It’s a great memory mick, if i had the chance to marry you again, i will” you gave kisses to his cheeks which led to his ears getting redder

“it’s been a year since we got married and your ears still gets red when i kiss you, Mick Schumacher”

—✩࿐ end note: this fic is highly inspired by photographs by ed sheeran! Let me know what’s your take on it, i think this might be one of my favourites because i’m someone who takes a-lot of photos for memories 🤎

[sixeyescurseuser]

Bunjo

Thinking about canon but make it hybrid au - bunny hybrid Gojo and human Geto. 

The Gojo clan is very adamant about breeding within the same species of rabbit family. Something about maintaining a pure bloodline and having a mate that will instinctively know what’s best for you.

Then, THE Gojo Satoru goes off to Jujutsu High, and imprints on a HUMAN. 

The thing is, Gojo’s never had trouble controlling his bunny instincts - not since he was a kid. But whenever he’s around Suguru, his self-control goes out of the window. 

Meanwhile, Geto came from a small country town so he’s not used to this many hybrids there are in the big cities - and so many varieties!

It’d be so funny if the first time Geto “met” Gojo was when Gojo was in bun form.

Bun Gojo - “Bunjo” for short - gets restless when he doesn’t shift for more than a week. Upon wanting to explore the campus in his bun form, he lost track of time, aka the moment their new classmate arrived on campus.

So Geto comes across this snow-white bun snoozing in one of the chairs in the main dormitory room. He slowly approaches, unsure if the bun will startle or not.

When Geto cautiously reaches his hand out, his fingers brush against soft white fur, and the bun’s ears twitch a bit. 

Cute! Geto thinks. 

***

By the end of their first year, everyone now getting along very well, lizard-hybrid Shoko comes to find Gojo has SCENT-MARKED Geto, which is a big no-no between hybrids without consent. 

Shoko: “You idiot, you can’t do that!”

Gojo: “Huh? Do what?”

Shoko: “...have you smelled Geto recently?”

Gojo: “Duh. And Suguru smells the same.”

Shoko mentally facepalms. Gojo didn’t even realize he had scent-marked Geto? That’s somehow even worse. 

It seems that to Gojo, Geto smelling like him feels so right that he didn't even notice. 

***

Geto 24/7: “How are you a bunny hybrid but you hate veggies?” 💀

Gojo: “Say that again and I will bite you.”

***

Gojo turns into a bunny when he’s angy. Like when he stubbornly doesn’t want to talk to anyone and childishly runs away. 

Poof! He’s a bun and then HE FLEES. (Bun on the loose!)

Geto is usually the one to find him and bring him back. Even if Geto was the one who made Gojo angy by accidentally forgetting to meet Gojo at the new bakery he wanted to try. 

(Geto, chasing after the white blur: “Satoru STOP”

Hearing those words, the white bun speeds up impossibly faster.)

Whenever Geto finally convinces Gojo to stop running, he has to have a piece of clothing ready to carry the white bun back. Usually, that’s one of his sweatshirts, which he’ll swaddle bun Gojo in and scoop up into his arms.

Yet another sweatshirt Geto will have to wash because it has white hairs all over it now.

***

Geto gets cute aggression with Bunjo, starts squishing and pinching the cute bun. 

(Geto does that with human Gojo’s cheeks too.)

Gojo wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves pets, and Geto’s hand is sometimes the best reward. 

Bunjo will hop over to Geto and flip over onto his back - exposing his tummy. Geto doesn’t hesitate to stroke the soft fur, which smells so sweet somehow; he buries his face into Bunjo’s furry body and showers him with kisses. 

Whenever Bunjo has been running around for the day, he comes back all dusty. Cue Geto picking Bunjo up and patting the dust off like he’s a rug.

After one final shake, Geto finishes the patting session with a kiss to Bunjo’s head. 

***

Bunjo being a brat and dive-bombing Nanami during a training session. In bun form, he’s somehow hopping so high in the air and lands a kick right to Nanami’s ass. 😭

Nanami immediately yells, “GETO-SAN, COME PICK HIM UP. PLEASE. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!”

Geto, who is busy helping Haibara train, shouts back, “Just indulge him for a bit!”

Nanami: “HAH?”

Geto: “Spar with him!”

Bunjo’s back leg thumps the ground twice as he launches himself into the air to push a paw into Nanami’s face.

Nanami: “GETO-SAN, THIS IS RIDICULOUS, WHAT DO YOU MEAN SPAR WITH HI-“ *gets kicked HARD on his face by Bunjo*

When Geto finally comes over, Nanami is on the ground holding Bunjo up by the armpits and as far away from his face as possible.

As soon as Geto takes Bunjo into his arms, the white bun melts against Geto’s body, ears twitching happily.

That’s the first day Nanami begins to lose respect for his senpais. 

After that, Nanami has war flashbacks anytime he comes across a wild rabbit that’s the same shade of white as Gojo.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[alxndryngs]

Because I enjoy reading what you write: How do RE8 women and the reader spend a rainy day?

Immediately grabbed my laptop to write this once I read it. And thank you! I aim to please :)

---

Alcina:

Once you had managed to drag Alcina away from work, she'd stay in bed with you the whole day.

She was stubborn at first, saying how a rainy day was the perfect opportunity to catch up on some paperwork for the next wine shipment.

"Well," You huffed, wrapping the fluffy robe you had on tighter around yourself. "Fine then, very well, Alcina."

Her head shot up so fast some might think she broke her neck in the process. You hadn't called her just Alcina in a very long time. It was always 'Alcina, darling.' or 'Cina, love'. The last time was when she had accidentally ripped one of your favourite blouses during a very passionate make-out session. Which then definitely didn't happen for quite some time.

"You have eternity to do stupid and boring paperwork. Who knows how many other rainy days we can spend together, hm? But that's fine. I will lay in bed by myself and fucking freeze to death because you're not there to warm me and end up dying because I got the flu! Its fine!"

Smiling brightly at your girlfriend, whose jaw was slack on the table beneath her, you turned and slammed your door on the way out.

Once in bed, you tucked yourself into the blanket while laying on Alcinas side of the bed, your face buried into her pillow so you could smell her. She had been occupied with work so much recently, coming to bed late and almost missing dinner or lunch.

Rainy days were your favourite to spend with her, she knew that.

The feeling of the mattress dipping grabbed your attention. Turning your head, you found a guilty looking girlfriend sitting next to you. Wearing a frown pout on her face, she slipped under the blanket with you. Of course, after she had taken off her dress.

Without anything being said, she pulled you against her while she scooted down so you could comfortably rest your head on her chest. With a small smile on your face, you nuzzled into her and inhaled her scent. Your leg slides over her thigh, resting in between and your arm wrapping around her waist as best as you could manage.

Alcina held you close, her own arm wrapping around you as she grabbed the book you were reading the night before off your nightstand. The title read 'Carol', and even though it seemed familiar, she couldnt put her finger on where she had heard about it before.

Your eyes practically closed by themselves once Alcina began reading to you, her soft voice mixing with the rain sounds from outside and the noises of the fire crackling from the fireplace.

Her fingers gently scratched your scalp as they tangle in your hair, your head laying over her heart as you listened to it thump away, the slow and steady rhythm mixed with all the other calming noises you were hearing slowly pulled you into wonderland.

Alcina kept reading until she was sure you were asleep. She sat up afterwards, leaning back and pulling you into her lap properly. Her cheek rested against the side of your head, her knees pulling up to trap you comfortably between her thighs and chest.

"I love you so much." She whispers, running her fingers through your soft hair.

Donna:

Donna had been working in the garden when the rain began to pour down on her.

You were sitting by the window, sewing up one of the dolls dresses that Angie had torn apart, while also keeping an eye on her in case she needed anything. Donna was a strong woman, you knew that. But you also liked to let her know that there was someone willing to assist and protect her.

Just when you were trying to finish up fixing the part underneath the arm where it had separated, Donna's Italian curses caught your attention. Looking up and outside, you saw that in a matter of seconds it had began pouring cats and dogs. Poor Donna was trying to shield herself and protect herself from the rain with her hands while running back towards the back entrance of the house.

Once she had gotten inside, she was greeted by you, a few dolls and a bunch of towels. She had already begun shivering when you and her loyal little friends dried her off with the few towels you grabbed from the laundry room.

"Got you pretty bad, huh?" You said, sighing and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Leaning into your shoulder, she nodded tiredly and sighed with you. Whenever Donna would get tired, wherever you were, she would lean into your shoulder and abuse the fact that you were taller than her.

"Could one of you sweethearts be so nice and pour Donna a cup of tea from the pot I brew earlier? It'll warm her right up."

Even though you said one, three of them ran off to get what you asked of. With a small chuckle, you watched them push each other through the hallway to get to the kitchen.

Leading Donna to the living room, you threw a match into the fireplace before helping her undress and sitting her down before it. Laying the wet clothes over the heater, you grabbed one of your blankets from the couch and wrapped Donna up in it to make sure she wouldnt get even colder.

Sitting behind your lover, she leaned her head back to rest it on your shoulder before tucking her face away into her neck. Nuzzling into you had been a thing she started to love doing not too long ago. Pressing a soft kiss to her head, you pushed her wet hair over her shoulder and began to braid it. Since it was wet now, she would have some beautiful waves once it was dry.

After the dolls brought you the cup of tea you asked for, you and Donna remained by the fire and let the rainstorm pass by whilst she hummed a few of her favourite piano pieces.

Little did she know you had started to practice it for her birthday next month.

Bela:

It was late in the afternoon when you had begun dusting off shelves in the opera hall, almost missing the eldest daughter sitting at a table close to the stage because of how still she was sitting.

Humming a small song to yourself, you listened to the rain outside while working your way from the outer part to the inner part of the room.

There wasn't much to do for you on days like these. Most of your chores were outside, so whenever it rained, you did the very few chores you had inside of the castle before retiring to bed and reading a bit in one of the books from the library.

"Mother always complains about the maiden not cleaning the top shelf," You jumped, startled at the sudden voice from the other side of the room. Turning around, you face Bela and give her a small smile.

"Miss Bela. Yes, I know. I always clean the top once I have finished everything else. It is quite strength consuming to get to the top." You said, smiling while approaching her. There was a chess game set up before her.

"Are your sisters or mother joining you for a game?"

Glancing over every other second, you began dusting a few of the vases standing by her. Bela shook her head.

"No, Liliana was supposed to."

The smile on your face disappeared. Liliana was a maid who had been talking to Bela quite a lot, most of the staff suspected something going on between those two.

"She just.. didnt show?"

Whilst she shook her head you saw how tears began welling in her eyes. She had been stood up.

"Oh I'm sorry.." Setting down everything you were holding, you took a seat opposite her and offered a smile. "I will play with you."

Her eyebrows furrowed while she wiped her eyes. "Mother could punish you. You're not supposed to be doing this."

You shrugged. "So be it. You were stood up and I'd be a dick to leave you here, sitting all by yourself. Now, who's got to start?"

She smiled when you pushed up your sleeves and took a closer look at the board. You and Bela remained playing quite a few times over the next few hours and you told her all kinds of stories about yourself. Going from where you grew up to the adventures you went on before the castle.

Bela was fascinated, asking every possible question she could think of.

She seemed so interested in your life experiences that you decided you would write a journal full of your adventure stories and give it to her on Christmas, or her birthday. Whatever was closer. Plus, you had to ask for Lady Dimitrescu's approval.

Cassandra:

Cassandra had begged you for the longest time to let her show you her collection of weapons in the armoury. Today, you decided was the perfect day to.

She was over the moon happy when you let her know during breakfast that you would join her up in the armoury in the afternoon since you still had some chores to finish before you could take time for her.

She was patiently waiting for you, sitting on a chair and staring at the door as she waited for your arrival.

Once she did see you coming through the old wooden door, she smiled and buzzed over to you before dragging you further in and showing you all kinds of weapons she had.

Everything from sickles, swords, bows, spears and even grenades.

When she was showing you her favourite one, telling you the story behind it, you couldn't help but stare at it with fear, especially after she told you how high the chances of it exploding was.

Her mother heard when she said it and ended up kicking you both out of the armoury and began to clear out everything that could put a human in serious danger. Like the grenade.

Cassandra was upset for the rest of the day, but you ended up managing to cheer her up a little bit with showing her your collection of sketchbooks. Of both you and strangers you met throughout your life.

Daniela:

You were just bringing Daniela the cookies she had asked for when you found her laying in her bed, reading a book and holding a stuffed animal in her arms.

"Miss Daniela, your cookies?"

Looking up at you, she smiled brightly and put her book face down in her lap so she won't loose the page.

"Thank you!" She said, taking the plate from you and placing it onto her nightstand. "What are you doing? I cant imagine there being many chores today. Most of yours are outside."

You shrugged, she was right. Most of your chores were around the vineyard and the kitchen.

"Nothing in particular, really. Just helping wherever help is needed." You said with a smile and were already going to leave before she stopped you.

"Sit with me? My sisters and mother are busy and I could use some company.. you like cookies, right? And romance?"

The hopefulness in her voice convinced you. You turned to her with a smile. "I do, yes."

She squealed in excitement while getting up, swarming around the room and some of her flies escaping the bunch and happily buzzing about.

Daniela grabbed a second blanket and stuffed animal for you, shoved you onto the bed and began to tuck you in before getting back into bed herself. Stuffing the stuffed animal bat into your arms, she grabbed her own and snuggled up close against you.

"Okay, Tell me whenever you're done reading both pages and then we'll flip them over. Alright?" You couldn't help but smile back at the one she gave you. She looked truly happy to have your company and someone to do this with.

While reading together, Dani buzzed with excitement. It was louder at first, but once the reading was going on for a while her flies eventually settled down.

You also had to pick up the crumbs underneath her chest from whenever she bit in a cookie since you refused to clean the whole bed by yourself later, especially since you only changed the sheets yesterday.

Miranda:

Miranda had taken you out on a date for your anniversary.

The both of you went to the opera a few villages away and watched a very nice piece together. Of course, she bought balcony seats for just the two of you to make sure you both could sit and enjoy it in silence.

Miranda made sure to keep an eye on you, looking for any signs of uncomfort or something that told her you weren't enjoying this.

You met Miranda a few years back and ever since, devoted yourself to her lifestyle and gave up your own. She felt terrible most days, whenever something slipped her and she asked you if you could help her carry something down in the lab. She never had asked you to help with what she was doing, she never wanted you to see the horrid things that happened in the depths of her little cave.

But whenever she did ask you to help carry something or bring her something she forgot, you did. You ignored the smell, the glasses filled with.. whatever it was and the blood covered cell.

You loved Miranda, but when you first stepped foot into the lab, you freaked out. Miranda tried to calm you down, assure you that everything she does down here is completely safe and that you would never have to see anything that went down here.

After she learned to trust you completely, she told you why she did it and you understood.

The carriage only got you so far towards Mirandas home since she wouldnt allow it through the gates. Whilst you and her began to walk the rest home, it began pouring down on you both. Before you could even do anything and tell her you both needed to go and stand under a tree and wait it out, a few of her wings rose above your head and shielded you from the rain.

Craning your head back, you looked at the black mass of feathers above you before back at your wife with a big smile.

She kept looking ahead, but when she saw how happy her little gesture made you, she couldn't help but smile with you.

Once inside, she made sure to dry you off herself and get you a fresh change of clothes before tucking you away into bed. She insisted that you would stay in bed for at least an hour or two to warm up properly and reduce the risks of getting a cold.

She was quick to join you, sitting behind you in bed and trying your hair off with a towel before wrapping you up in her arms and wings and holding you close.

"I love you so much, frumosa." She whispered a sigh following close after. She wasnt big on showing affection recently but today she decided to jump over her shadow. "I am so happy to have you.. I dont deserve you. I am so grateful for every day I get to spend with you. You are the best."

You and Miranda spent the rest of the day in bed, instead of just an hour. She ran her fingers through your hair while telling you stories of her days back in the lab in the research facility, with her friends and what kind of work she had been doing.

She also talked about your future with her. Her words almost brought tears to your eyes. She wanted to move away with you one day and start over. Maybe even have another child.

Whilst she spent time running her fingers through your hair, you caressed her feathers.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Semantic Error | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter 2

Based off of Semantic Error (bl) by J Soori Summary: While y/n starts to discuss her vision for the game she finds out that JK was someone she had hoped she would never have to deal with again. Giving up on her game for now she focuses on work and school but Jungkook has other plans for her this semester. Pairing: Techie inexperienced fem!reader x Artist fuck boy Jungkook Word count: 2.4k~ Warnings: Explicit language (a little bit). Idk that's pretty much it for this chapter. A/N: This is heavily based off of the original bl (boy love) and it covers chapters (episodes) 2-12. I've switched around the timeline and got rid of a few scenes here and there so they're not exactly alike but I would like to stick close to the original story so let me know what you think! P.s. If you don't mind spoilers I would highly suggest reading the original story. I read it on the app Manta with the english adaptation being done by Angy and you can also find the Kdrama on Viki :) Read from the beginning

Sitting down with JK and explaining my vision for the project is becoming increasingly annoying, he picks out the flaws in the designs that Hana drew up as well as called my whole concept boring, basically making me want to just start ground ground zero at this point.

"Are you sure you'll be able to actually be able to create what I want? In terms of functionality and the coding behind it all on your own?" he asks, questioning my abilities.

"If you give me a chance I'm sure I'll be able to create a fully functioning 2D application" I say simply, knowing what I'm capable of. 

"You know there are other aspects that you have to think about besides the design factor of it all. Have you figured out how you're going to go about that or would you be needing my help as well?" he asks getting cocky, trying to belittle me.

"I am aware and it's your choice what you plan to help with. I just need a character and gaming environment design from you. I'm able to handle the rest if need be" I say plainly stating my intentions.

"Well if you want me then I'll work on it with you". We work out a rough layout of how this will all go and when I feel it's time to end the meeting I hand him my phone and ask him to put his number in so I will have a ways to contact him to set up future meetings. 

"Looks like you already have my number" he says and I tilt my head curiously, not sure how I would've found myself in a situation where I would need his number.

He calls himself from my phone so he has my contact as well and I see the name Motherfucker pop up on his screen. "Wait you're a girl?" he says clearly as confused as I am. JK = Jungkook, how did I not put that together?!??!?!

I snatch my phone out of his grasp and see the contact name I've assigned to his number and my heart drops seeing the name Freeloader 3 on the screen. Grabbing my bag I run out of that study room and don't stop until I've made it home. 

Closing the door behind me I pray I've somehow lost him and that he didn't chase after me to see which way I took to go home.

I'm a girl so there's no way that he could cause physical harm to me. Right? He seemed somewhat of an intimidating guy so I guess he could go either way. Guys like him seem like they could get away with murder if they wanted to.

I shiver as I feel all of my hairs standing on end praying that that somehow won't be my fate. 

That was a shit way to start off my summer but hopefully I won't have to bump into him ever again since I won't really have any reason to go to campus these days.

I'll just focus on working at the PC cafe and save up so I won't have to worry about working when classes are back in session.

~~~~~~~

My summer is uneventful just as I had hoped for and just when I thought that I had forgotten that disaster none other than Jungkook walks into the the cafe.

I keep my head down hoping he won't see me but as soon as I hear a lull in the conversation he was in I knew I was screwed.

I look up at him and see that he's clearly staring me down and as soon as he confirms it's me he rolls his eyes and scoffs before he makes his way over to one of the open PCs.

Why couldn't he have just turned around and gone somewhere else? There's another perfectly good cafe on the other side of town so why did he have to pick this one? 

Who am I kidding why would he go out of his way to go across town when all we had was a little argument and he's mad at me because he thinks I'm to blame for keeping him from graduating.

As soon as I finish restocking the snack bar I get a notification of a customer placing an order and I check the notification and see that low and behold it's from Jungkook.

After retrieving his food from the cook I make my way over to him and place his items down in front of him. He looks me up and down before opening his mouth to say something which I could only assume is utterly irrelevant to me.

"Hey we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, do you think there's a chance that we could just start over? I could even introduce myself since I never really got a chance to do it in the first place. Hello my name is Jeon Jungkook and I'm a visual arts major" he says while holding out his hand as a peace offering. 

"And that matters to me why? I don't think we have any reason as to why we should be interacting anymore since I don't want to work with you anymore. It's best if we just forget it and remain as strangers" I say turning to go so I can get back to work.

He follows me over to the front desk where I unfortunately am forced to stay so I'm stuck having to listen to him until he goes away.

"I'm not looking for a fight I promise. I just want to start over. You seem like a pretty nice girl and I would love to get to know you better" he says flashing me a smile that I'm sure many girls have fallen for before but I don't find it the slightest bit charming. 

"Sounds like you should try to get a bit more creative with your pickup lines, I'm not interested" I say and look through the system begging for someone to give me something to do.

"I promise I just want to get to know you, no ulterior motive on my part, but if you wanted to go about things that way then I can't lie that I find you extremely attractive a-" 

"I suggest you go back to your seat unless you would like me to call management to get you permanently banned and file a restraining order for sexual harassment" I say taking care of some emails from our vendors for next week’s shipment, finally having found something productive to do.

"Okay I get it I'll back off, I didn't mean to offend you like that. For what it's worth, I really did want to be your friend" he says and goes back to his seat, finally providing me some peace and quiet.

~~~~~~

The first day back at school I fall back into my usual routine.

I always get up at a certain time so I have time to exercise and take a shower before class, I get my bike downstairs at 9:16 on the dot and I have my whole route calculated down to the second. I make sure to get to class half an hour early everyday so I don't have to worry about rushing and I have time to mentally prepare myself for the rest of the day.

Walking into the lecture hall for my Chinese class I find myself buffering at the sight of a bag on top of the usual seat I sit in. It's the perfect seat that provides me with the best view of the board and allows for next to no distractions. It's kept at a comfortable temperature and it gives me the best route out of the classroom when the lecture is over. 

Glaring down at the bag I'm temped to just move it but decide that I'll just wait until the owner comes back and ask them to switch seats.

I'm surprised that out of all the seats in this big lecture hall that they picked my exact seat.

I brush it off and go through the material we are going to cover today until I'm greeted with the mysterious owner of the bag that has caused me so much turmoil this morning.

Looking up to make eye contact with them I'm left with the sight of a smug looking smile from the bane of my existence, Jungkook. 

"What are you doing here?" I whisper since more students have started to make their way in. "I'm recruiting for my pyramid scheme. What does it look like I'm doing?" he says while taking a seat.

"Switch seats with me" I say standing up expecting him to do as I say. "No this is my seat" he says and starts to get out his class materials.

"Just switch seats with me" I demand starting to lose my temper, but before he's even able to mumble a response our professor comes in and asks us all to sit down, prohibiting me from trying to get him to give me my seat back. 

"Oh Mr. Jeon what a pleasant surprise, I thought I saw that you signed up to be my TA this semester. Class this is Jungkook, he lived in Beijing for a year so feel free to ask him a lot of questions. You'll also be turning in all of your assignments to him so if you have any questions please feel free to reach out to either of us. Right Mr. Jeon?" she asks to confirm.

"Yes I'm here to help" he announces to the class. "And I'll be right there to hold your hand the entire time y/n" he mumbles to me, using my name to address me for the first time. It some how sends a shiver through my spine and I can see from out of the corner of my eye that he's pleased with my response.

Why can't my body just cooperate with me just once? He's just a mildly attractive guy that's it, don't let his antics distract you.

~~~~~

After class ends I rush over to my next class and am greeted with yet another bag on my favorite seat.

He couldn't have gotten to this one before me as well right? Is he some kind of super villain that is hell bent on making my life miserable? Maybe it belongs to someone else and I'll actually be able to reason with them this time.

As I sit waiting for class to start I see a flash of red show up in my peripheral vision "Oh are you in this class too?" I hear him buzz right in my ear as he sits down next to me yet again. "Jungkook what are you doing here? This class isn't even close to what your major is. It's also one of the more advanced classes so I know that you're just here to annoy me" I grumble while taking my textbook out. 

"And how do you even know my class schedule?" I ask and widen my eyes as the sight of the notebook I thought I lost a few months ago.

"How did you get that" I ask while reaching for it, which he childishly moves out of my reach. "You left it at the library that one day that you ran away from me. I was going to try to stop you to tell you but by the time I stepped outside the door you were already gone. Was I really that scary?" he says mockingly.

"No, you were just unpredictable so I didn't feel comfortable being in a private room with you, that's all. Now give me my book back!" I demand, trying to reach for it again and as soon as I think I've got a chance at reaching it I hear the professor walk in. 

"Mr. Jeon is it?" he asks, unamused at the sight he's presented with.

"Yes sir" he says while both of us quickly take our seats. "If you plan on taking this class just for the purpose of flirting then I suggest you drop it, especially since it looks like this isn't required for your major" he says clearly already annoyed with the both of us already.

Thanks for getting me on his bad side already Jungkook, I think to myself, trying to control the blush that wants to grow from the embarrassment he has just caused me.

"I'm sorry professor it won't happen again" Jungkook says apologizing for both of our behavior. "See that it doesn't" he scolds and starts the lecture.  

He finally gives me my book back and doesn't speak to me again, but he sure as hell still makes his presence know with all the fidgeting he's been doing.

As the minutes tick by I feel myself losing more and more of my concentration and as soon as the lecture ends I'm up and out of my seat and head out of the building as fast as I can. I can sense that someone is following me though so I decide to stop and then feel someone bump into me.

"Hey you could've knocked us over!" he says acting like it's my fault. "Well if you hadn't been following me then we wouldn't have had this problem now would we?" I finish crossing my arms.

"What is it that you want from me? Or are you just trying to make my life miserable because you failed that class and you feel like it's my fault?" I say genuinely curious as to why he's acting like this. 

"Well I mean I'm willing to put the class thing behind if you just start being nice to me. I'm actually a really nice guy to be around and I really meant it when I said I wanted to be friends. Plus you've got me interested in that game of yours so I was wondering if you would take me back?" he finishes really making an effort to start over just like he said before.

"So your way of trying to make amends is by annoying the crap out of me? You're a lot dumber than I thought you were" I say walking away and much to my distaste he ends up following me.

"Come on just think about it, I saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw my portfolio, admit it you need me" he says regaining that cocky attitude.

"I don't need anyone, and I especially don't need you. There are plenty of designers out there, you're replaceable" I say and storm off hoping my honest feelings stopped him from wanting to talk to me for the rest of the day.

prev / next

Series Masterlist

Mini Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @goddesofimortality @kaitieskidmore97 @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00

Join my Taglist

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment to be added :)

[nottamoxxie]

Little Spider 🩷 Little!Angel Caregiver!Vaggie and Charlie

Summary:

Request by: weareoneliterally

Regressor: Angel

Caregiver: Vaggie, Charlie

Basically, Angel comes back from work and Vaggie gets upset with him. He's already had a hard evening, so he slips and tries to hide it. Eventually, he's too small and Vaggie notices, and gets Charlie to help :)

🩷💜❤️🩷💜💖🩷💜💖🩷💜💖

Angel walked back to the hotel, already feeling weak and like he was going to collapse after such a long day. This week really took it out of him, he was so glad it was finally over.

Weekends were the hardest, Angel never could’ve imagined in his life that he’d look forward to Monday.

He opened the door to the hotel- as it was snowing something fierce, he really had to force the door to shut once he got it opened. “It’s hell for gods sake! Why is it so cold?!” He asks, annoyed.

Vaggie stool in front of him, probably ready to lecture him about something.

Angel pants weakly. “Listen, I’m not really in the mood tonight.”

“Angel, you’ve missed every meeting, every therapy session, and you’ve been late, missing curfew every night this week!” Vaggie yells. “You’re not even trying to go clean- why the fuck are you even here?” She asks.

Angel backs away as Vaggie yelled at him, trying desperately not to cry or slip- he doesn’t want to deal with this right now!

“Leave me alone, I’m going to my room.” Angel pushes past her, refusing eye contact.

Vaggie moves in front of him. “No, you’re going to sit and listen to me for once!” She says, walking towards him until he falls back on the couch.

“Do you have any idea how hard Charlie works? How hard I work? We put so much effort in trying to help you- and you don’t even appreciate it!”

Angel looked at the ground, his breathing intently increases as tears build up in his eyes.

“Are you ever going to take this seriously?” Vaggie asks.

Her face drops as the second tear falls down his face. “Angel?” She asks.

Angel shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t… I c-can’t!” More tears fall as Angel doesn’t know what to say, he can’t think about anything right now, he just wants to go to bed and be done with today! Today was all bad.

Shit- Vaggie called for Charlie to help

Angel was full on sobbing, and neither girl really knew what to do. They’ve never seen him cry before.

Charlie wasn’t mad at her girlfriend, she knew Vaggie was only trying to help. But she needs to learn to be more patient with people.

“Hey, Angel…” Charlie approached him awkwardly. “You okay?” Charlie asks.

“Let me go-“ Angel cries. “Just leave me alone!”

Charlie was a little confused by that, no one was even touching him. “Angel, No one is going to hurt you. We want to help. Can you take some deep breath’s for me?” She asks.

Angel tries, but his breathing is coming out big and shaky.

“Good, just keep breathing, focus only on your breathing. You’re doing great, you’re safe here, Angel.”

Angel was slowly calming down, eventually he wasn’t crying anymore. He held his arms around his legs and hid his face as best as possible.

“Angel?” Charlie asks. “Can you hear me?”

Angel nods.

“Angel, what’s been going on with you? You’ve been working so late and we’ve hardly seen you.” Charlie asks.

“Hads’ lotta work.” Angel says.

“This isn’t healthy, Angel. You need to try and take better care of yourself.” Charlie says.

“I do try.” Angel says. “I try all the times…but it’s too hawd.”

“Let’s get you to your room, then we can talk some more.” Charlie says, holding out her hand.

Angel takes it and follows her.

Vaggie didn’t follow them, Charlie went upstairs and Vaggie left for the kitchen.

Charlie lead angel to his room and he sat down on the bed.

“Sleepy.” Angel says.

“I know, Angie. But Vaggie is getting you something to eat. We want to make sure you’re okay first.” Charlie explains.

“M’fine.” Angel grumbles.

“Angel, please. I know you’re tired, but will you please eat something for me?” She asks.

Angel nods. “Kay.”

“Thank you.” She says. “I’ll be right back.” Charlie walks back downstairs to help Vaggie.

Angel, after about two minutes, completely forgot he was waiting for someone. He was fully regressed now. Out of sight, out of mind.

Angel grabbed a small box he kept under his bed, and pulled out his pacifier and baby blanket, he wanted to sleep!

He snuggled the blanket close to him and got comfortable, very quickly he fell asleep.

Charlie and Vaggie walked back into the room, shocked to see Angel with a pacifier in his mouth. “Angel?” Charlie asks. She gets closer and shakes him awake. “Angel?”

Angel’s eyes snapped open as he jumped, he looked fine when he saw it was just Charlie, but then he saw the pacifier and threw the blanket over his head.

“Angel, it’s okay. You don’t need to feel embarrassed.” Charlie says.

“Go ‘way.” Angel demands.

“Angel, it’s okay if you’re regressed.”Charlie says.

Angel removes the blanket and looks up at the princess. “You know?”

“About regression?” She asks.

He nods.

“Of course I do. I’ve been studying a lot of different coping methods and therapy options. This is completely normal and you should feel proud of yourself.” Charlie says.

“Proud?” Angel asks.

Charlie nods. “Yup, you found this coping skill all on your own. I’m very proud of you.”

Angel smiles. “So, it’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Charlie says, she takes the bowl of macaroni and cheese for Angel. “Can you eat this yourself or do you want my help?” Charlie asks kindly.

Angel blushed and looked down.

“Help please?” Angel asks.

Charlie smiles kindly. “Of course.” She spoon feeds the macaroni and cheese to Angel, slowly and gently, making sure not to spill any as Vaggie just sat down and watched in confusion.

Charlie then helped Angel by wiping his face clean and she rinsed off the pacifier that had fallen on the floor. She handed it back to him and he put it in his mouth. Angel smiles at Charlie, it felt so good to be able to regress freely without worrying about being judged.

“Would you like a bedtime story, Angel?” Charlie asks.

Angel’s eyes widened with childish excitement as he reached out to grab a book and hand it to her.

Charlie smiles, she gestures for Vaggie to come closer. She does, reluctantly so.

Charlie picks up a childrens book and hands it to Vaggie.

Vaggie looks at Charlie confused.

“Read it, it will help him relax.” Charlie says.

“Uh, okay.” Vaggie says, figuring it’s best to just play along. “Most motor cars are conglomerations of steel and wire and rubber and plastic, and electricity and oil and petrol and water, and the toffee papers you pushed down the crack in the back seat last Sunday.“

Angel’s eyes fluttered as Fat nuggets ran into the room. He reached for him, Charlie picked him up and handed the small piglet to Angel, patting the regressor’s head.

Vaggie only read the first chapter in the book before Angel fell deep asleep. Charlie tucked him in and took the bowl to be cleaned. “Goodnight, Angel.” She whispered.

Vaggie was still a little confused, but she had to admit she liked this cuter and quieter version of angel. It was enduring.

Charlie grabs her girlfriends hand and leads her back to the main room.

“Hey, is he okay?” Vaggie asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” Charlie says.

“What was that? Why was he acting like a little kid?” Vaggie asks.

“Age regression. I’ll tell you all about it, but let’s talk somewhere that no one else can hear us.” She takes Vaggie’s hand and leads her to the bedroom to explain everything.

[theawkwardterrier]

Academic Antagonism, Scholastic Strife

Steggy Week 2k23, day 3 Prompt: AUs and crossovers

Summary: The history department at Shield University includes a pair of professors with a particular level of collegiate conflict.

Thanks to @steggyfanevents for hosting!

It is, essentially, a matter of course every September.

Angie has been the history department administrator for long enough that she can sense the approaching storm in the air. She breaks into the apology gift card she got last semester to buy herself the biggest, fanciest coffee from her favorite campus café and sets her jaw as she arrives at her desk.

The first student is at the doors to the building the moment they open for business hours.

"I need to speak to someone." There goes the bag, plunking down on her desk (actually clean for once! She'd made an effort to get rid of her host of reminder post-its before the start of the new school year, and now look) as a hand reaches in to yank out a paper schedule as some kind of evidentiary prop. "Look, I was placed in—"

Angie looks over the boy, playing the sort of instinctive guessing game that at least offers a tiny bit of entertainment to the whole process. Unfortunately, he has a copy of Steve's latest book sticking out of the bag, which takes most of the fun out of it (although he does have a copy of The Fountainhead there too which, if it's not class reading, either Steve or Peggy would have fun with). Sighing, Angie goes through her dutiful patter nevertheless: "Both Professor Carter and Professor Rogers currently have entirely full rosters for all of their lectures and seminars. Which session would you like to be placed on the waitlist for?"

“I’ve got to get into Professor Rogers’ Tuesday/Thursday afternoon section — his take on urban history is completely—”

“I wouldn’t sleep on Professor Carter,” says a passing man. “Stick with her and she'll teach you something.”

Angie purses her lips at the back of the man's blond head as he exits the building and then resigns herself to listening to a very earnest undergraduate trying to convince her that his entire future depends on getting a seat in Steve’s Metropolitics of Race and Place course.

Even non-majors will often make their chosen class a priority to arrange their schedule around, simply based on the reputations of Professors Rogers and Carter, and, all told, more than a few people will get shuffled around, trading into the course that they want. Whether it will be before Angie goes through both her café gift card and her bottle of Advil is anyone's guess.

“—and if you don't think that the prevalence of racialized propaganda was unique and endemic to the period, and of course led into its use in the Second World War, I simply don't know what to say to you."

"I'm not saying that it wasn't a part of it, but it only seems unique if you remove the context of—"

"Oh, bloody Nora, do not start listing nineteenth century European conflicts to me again, Steven."

"Well, Peg, it's hard not to when you're trying your hardest to ignore a key piece to the entire issue. And while we’re at it, to suggest that World War I propaganda was the key pathway to reliance on cultural stereotypes that had already been spreading around Europe for centuries before and that the Nazis only—"

There aren't all that many people standing around on the first floor of the College of Arts and Sciences building on a Thursday afternoon, but those who happen to have scheduled themselves a late class or are meeting friends to start their weekends early stop and watch the bickering pair striding down the hallway.

"I had Professor Rogers last semester,” says one student to the rest, watching the two turn the corner. “Life-changing.”

“There is no way he’s better than Professor Carter,” says one of the others. “If I hadn’t already been too far along with all this double major crap, her class would have made me switch to history.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, do you think they’re…you know…doing it?” one of the crasser members of the group as they all turn to leave the building. “The way they were arguing, there were definite sparks there.”

“No way,” someone snorts. “They argue like that all the time. Everyone knows that they hate each other. Half the history majors are Jets and Sharks over them — Team Carter versus Team Rogers.”

“I know who I’d join,” says Steve’s former student immediately, and Peggy’s agrees, glaring, but most of the rest seem to be of the opinion that they couldn’t be paid to care this much about school and since they’re the ones who are, in fact, paying, there are more interesting things to talk about.

The newly minted members of Teams Rogers and Carter glance at each other, for once in agreement — the others simply have to experience it themselves to understand.

The campus pub, a cozily dark, wood-paneled little establishment that leans perhaps a little too much into academic cliché, usually hosts events a few times a week: comedy, music, trivia. The new manager, however, wants to mix it up (and perhaps take advantage of that stereotypical appearance). Few of her colleagues think that anyone will turn up for a debate between two history department professors, but they’re bolstered anyway by the usual uptick in stressed-student patronage as the semester gets closer to its end, so at least it doesn’t seem like it will hurt.

Even a half hour before it’s supposed to start, the place is nearly at capacity. As the professors take their places behind the lecterns borrowed for the occasion, people are having to be turned away at the door for fear of violating the fire code. By the time the manager declares a tie, Professor Rogers is pink-cheeked, Professor Carter is starting each of her statements with a tight, “If my esteemed colleague would recall…” and as a couple passes outside they turn to each other and wonder what sporting event could be going on inside to be inspiring so much passion.

You’d think that things would quiet down a bit around finals time but that isn’t the case. With the new courses for next year announced and selection already under way, there is a second round of haggling and complaints about unfairness and bribery attempts to get into the desired sections. Leaving for the afternoon even as she sees the students still lining up and hears them trying to make their cases directly to the professors themselves — “I understand that you’d like to continue with my spring course, Nicole, but I think that you might in fact find the perspective enlightening” — Angie feels like she still hasn’t entirely caught her breath from the first round months ago.

She demands double the gift cards, or she’s transfering to the sociology department, where the faculty hasn’t done anything noteworthy in about a hundred years and no one has ever decided to become even the least bit fanatical about any of them.

Finals are over, and snow blankets the empty campus. Vacation has taken over the minds of the students, even as they wait for their grades to come in.

“I’ll trade you for the dumplings,” Peggy says from where she is leaning against the arm of the sofa while Steve faces her from the opposite end. Their feet tangle in the middle.

“Sure, do you have the pad thai there?” They lean forward to exchange cartons, kissing briefly before they relax back to their respective sides.

Peggy swallows and says, “Since we’ve both managed to finish with our grading, I thought we might go skating tomorrow.”

“You just want to see me fall again,” Steve complains, smiling.

She makes a little humming sound, that impish curl at the edge of her mouth — bare for once, since it’s only the two of them relaxing at home. “Perhaps, but you did know about that bit of sadism when you married me.”

“Well, as long as you help me back up.”

“You know that I’ll always kiss it better, my darling.”

A couple of students, still in town due to canceled flights, spot them walking hand in hand to the rink the next afternoon, skates over their shoulders. Theories range from some kind of hostage situation to a social experiment, enforced faculty bonding to mutual amnesia. After all, what else could be believed?

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update

12/03/2023

Nerdie, you’re making this a thing now?

Yes! I have to keep ya’ll updated on what’s going on.

Well, what did you read this week?

Many wonderful things:

I will again sing the praises of @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin three part series “When My Time Comes Around.” You’ll feel all the emotions and be thankful that you read something that touches you deep in your soul. 😭 She also attacked my heart again on Frankie Friday with bittersweet angst in Tender is the Night. I'm a fan of the melancholic greatness that is Angie.

So...you like reading about sad things?

There's more to it than that. Just go read her fics! Then you'll know.

Tommy Miller fans unite! @musings-of-a-rose is continuing to feed our younger Miller brother delusions with her series “Falling Slowly.” The slow burn romance is one of the trope I really dig. And Gabriel Luna always. 🫠 Dig into some Tommy…

Nerdie, you’re doing so well, don’t jinx it.

I mean, I'm not wrong. Whatever, moving on...

I also read Honey Stained Hands by the sweet and deceptively naughty @undercoverpena too. Seems to be a Joel fix this week. Post-outbreak. The reader manages to make honey and different sweets in Jackson. Telling ya’ll anymore is a spoiler. Go read it!

There’s also another grizzled man this week. Tim Rockford who in the capable hands of the same writer @secretelephanttattoo who brought us Marcus Pike (Doughnut Debauchery) and the reason I’ll never look at doughnuts the same, I’m sure she’ll find many a use for his gun holsters. She began her new series “Undercover.” I’m throughly looking forward diving into more of the chapters as she releases them.

@linzels-blog wrote another Din Djarin fic that is equal parts sensual and sweet. It’s called Safe to Touch. I’m rather fond of our intrepid Mendalorian and him exploring his body with someone he loves is a treat.

Speaking of which, who doesn’t like baked goods? We’re also being fed by @avastrasposts as she starts her A Baker’s Dozen series with Pedro Pascal characters. Her first one is about our favorite trash cuddle panda Dieter Bravo. It’s adorable. 🥰 Such fluff.

Nerdie, you actually read fluff? This is surprising.

What do ya’ll take me for? I told you, 80% smut. This is in the 20%. Geez. 🙄

I will say though, this next one, 100% smut, not watered down, will burn your throat and you’ll love it and want more. You’ll want it other places. 😘

Welp, we knew it was gonna end here eventually.

Yes! @morallyinept had me removing my socks and pants in an effort to cool down, it did not help. I will think of this version of Dieter Bravo when I’m out at night. Heck, maybe as I walk across the parking lot to get in my car after a shift. That honestly would be the perfect time… long story short, wild back alley sex with both Dieter and the reader being complete and utter lust filled humans. It is called, Back Alley Bang if you enjoy Pedro Pascal characters smut, it’s required reading or at least highly recommended.

Anything new for you this week Nerdie?

Session Two of my “Sard’ika Sessions” will be out on early Wednesday AM in EST. Session One and all sessions will be linked to the Sard’ika Sessions Masterlist. I’m currently writing sessions 3 and 4 from my notebook because I wrote them down. Wild what you think of between the hours of 12 mid and 4am.

I finally started writing for our Pickled Peña prompt! I might even have it in on time. If you’d like to join in, see all the details here. I’m on the fence about smut, odd I know. 🤨

I also started a Benny Miller fic (likely fluff with food) and a Christmas fic with Joel and Layla (on OFC I wrote three fics on a few months ago - I love them very much ❤️). Joel and Layla are on my Masterlist.

Anything outside of fanfiction Nerdie? Please say that’s not the only thing you do. 🙄

I have a job you know. I actually worked this weekend. I visited my mom while she had a cold earlier this week. She’s very into Tom Hiddleston. Not a bad choice, I too appreciate his accent and baritone voice. She enjoys his dancing. 🕺🏽 I’d watching Loki with her and finally got her to watch Andor - she liked it but called it “low budget Star Wars” because she didn’t know any of the actors. I swear she’s so goofy. I love her. She also said that Andor grew on her like The Mandalorian and she wants to see more. I may be able to get her on board with both Lunas eventually. 😝

I’ve been working on my Statistics class. It’s difficult but I’m pushing through. 😵

Finally watched two Garrett Hedland movies this week! Country Strong and Four Brothers. The first was bittersweet but I liked it. He did sing a lot which was wonderful. The second one I’ve seen multiple times with little brother (he loved the movie when we were younger.) Garrett looked so young! It was from 2005 though.

Well Nerdie, your week sounds full. Good luck!

Have a great week everyone!

I jammed to while some music while looking at a picture of Gabriel Luna that @musings-of-a-rose sent me because she knows me well and is always willing to share: 😍

One of the songs was:

Stay safe and feel better to all those who are feeling under the weather,

Love Nerdie ❤️

[mooseyspooky]

I have a theory. Ok, so after Johnny came back from his holiday in Los Angeles, things went sour. From what I've read, Morrissey booked a session around the same time Johnny was going on a holiday. I honestly think Morrissey did this on purpose, so Marr had to choose between work or his life and he chose the latter, so obviously Moz was really upset by this. I honestly think that's why he picked that Celia Black song to cover and he renamed it work is a four letter word lmao

Oh for sure. I'm not sure that's even a theory, I think that's just fact. There's a lot of stuff that happened at the same time in May/June 1987. Johnny got stressed out because Strangeways was just recorded and Moz was acting like a huge bitch about the Sheila music video, he went to California with Angie, worked with Talking Heads, came back. The music press had randomly decided to make a smear piece saying he quit the Smiths. Moz threw a huge fit, Johnny then quit for real. Moz tried to then replace Johnny with some rando, things crumbled. It was a real mess. Though I find it incredible all of it happened so quickly when Moz and Johnny were fine for the most part during Strangeways except for a few spats. There was the whole drama over Moz bringing in a manager from America, then getting jealous about how much time the manager was spending with Johnny, and then demanding Johnny to fire him because of that jealousy, but that was a pretty standard part of Johnny's life in the band. Moz had done that numerous times before, so. But then all of a sudden Moz decided to burn it everything to the ground because Johnny wouldn't bend to his every whim (like the extra studio time you mentioned, booked right after Stangeways, not wanting to fire the manager, ect.). Can you imagine if Moz just calmed down for 5 seconds and let Johnny just be a guitarist instead of his personal caretaker?

[sisterspooky1013]

Time Warp

Rated X | 3842 Words | Read it here on AO3

Mulder hits the buzzer outside The Lone Gunmen’s place and heaves a sigh. It’s not that he isn’t excited about the party, which has become an annual tradition that he looks forward to, he just wishes he knew what Scully was up to. 

He’s in touch with the fact that he’s not entitled to know her whereabouts at all times, regardless of recent…developments in their relationship. She is and will likely always be fiercely independent, which is one of the many things he loves about her. 

But when he asked what her plans were for the Saturday before Halloween and she said she was busy without elaborating, it struck him as odd, and he hasn’t quite been able to shake the feeling that she was intentionally avoiding telling him something. 

Probably not a date. He doesn’t think she’s seeing anyone else, but they haven’t exactly talked about the status of their relationship. A handful of hot and heavy makeout sessions quickly escalated to one instance of frenzied, desperate sex on his couch, and that was a week and a half ago. Last weekend took them out of town for a case, so there really hasn’t been an opportunity for it to happen again, which leaves him wondering if that’s even what she wants. So when she dodged his question about her plans this weekend, he took it as a sign that she’s avoiding putting herself into a situation where he might expect it, and he’s been preparing himself for the possibility of her breaking things off. 

“Hello,” warbles a slow voice from the speaker mounted above the door. 

“It’s me, Langly, open up,” Mulder says, turning his face toward the camera he knows is concealed in the trim. 

“Costumes required man, you know the rules,” Langly says, breaking character. 

Mulder huffs and strips off his trench coat, leaving him in white briefs and an unbuttoned dress shirt with nothing underneath. 

“Glasses,” Langly pipes in, and Mulder glares in the direction of the camera before he digs a pair of black framed glasses out of his jacket and puts them on. 

“There, you happy?” he asks, his jaw already chattering. “Now let me in, it’s freezing out here.”

The door buzzes and goes through a familiar series of clicks and pops before it opens to reveal Langly in an impressively accurate Riff Raff costume, his glasses removed and deep purple bags painted under his eyes. His long blond hair is stringy and hangs over a hump at the top of his back. 

“Hello,” he warbles again, and Mulder rolls his eyes. 

“Now I ask if I can use your phone, and you say ‘you’re wet,’ and I point out that it’s raining,” Mulder says impatiently, hopping from one foot to the other. “Can we get to the part where you invite me in?”

Langly moves to the side and Mulder rushes into the heat of the house, tossing his coat on an already towering pile near the door and kicking off his shoes. 

“Janet’s already here,” Langly tells him, and Mulder quirks his head in confusion. “Angie from the DnD group?” Langly reminds him. “She’s dressed as Janet this year.”

“Hot patootie, bless my soul! I really love that rock n roll!”

Mulder turns to see Frohike bouncing his way down the hall, his jeans and cutoff leather jacket smeared with fake blood and a saxophone hanging from his neck. 

“Eddie, I see you’re going post mortem this year,” Mulder says, clapping the shorter man on the back. 

“Frank-N-Furter already got to me,” Frohike says sadly. “But on the bright side, Columbia is extra tasty this year. Worth dying for, if you ask me.”

“Oh yeah, who’s Columbia this year?” Mulder asks, and Frohike’s eyebrows lift. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, genuinely surprised, and Mulder shakes his head. 

“Guess you better go make the rounds,” Langly suggests, the corner of his mouth threatening a smile. 

Mulder narrows his eyes and heads down the hallway, issuing hellos and Happy Halloweens to throngs of Transylvanians as well as a scantily clad Janet Weiss and a wiry man in a blond wig and gold underwear doing his best to fulfill the role of Rocky Horror. While he wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, the faces are familiar and he’s always felt welcome and comfortable at the Gunmen’s parties. 

“My oh my, Mr. Majors,” calls a familiar voice, and he turns to see Scully hovering near the punch bowl, decked out in a sequined top and jacket along with tiny pinstripe shorts and fishnet stockings. She even has a gold sequined top hat and a giant red bow around her neck, leaving out no detail on her Columbia costume. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks with a smile, weaving through the crowd until he arrives by her side. 

Her cheeks are pink, not from blush, and her smile is bright. She looks carefree and adorable, and his heart tightens in his chest. 

“Same thing you are, unless that’s not a costume,” she says coyly, flicking her eyes up and down his bare chest and legs. 

He suddenly feels self-conscious regarding his outfit. She’s seen him naked, felt him naked, but it’s still so new, and there’s something about tighty whities that’s inherently unflattering and embarrassing. He clasps his hands and holds them in front of his groin, slouching a little. 

“Speaking of costumes, did you just throw that together for the party?” he asks, gesturing with his chin toward her outfit. 

She looks down like she’s surprised to see the way she’s dressed. 

“I’ve had this for years, actually,” she says wistfully. “Missy and I used to dress up as Columbia and Magenta and go see the movie around Halloween.”

“I haven’t seen a Magenta here,” Mulder comments, scanning the crowd. 

“Me neither,” Scully says. “I kind of like that, though. I don’t want a replacement Magenta.”

There’s a brief silence that’s heavy with the loss of Scully’s sister, and after an appropriate amount of time has passed, he changes the subject. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he asks, nudging her shoulder with his arm. 

Scully smiles devilishly and takes a sip from her drink. 

“Byers told me about the theme, and he said you usually dress up as Brad. I thought if I told you I was coming, you might chicken out.”

Mulder balks, but he knows it’s true. He would have dressed as Brad before Columbia and Magenta took his clothes, or later in the film when he’s wearing a bathrobe. But the idea that Scully wanted to see him in briefs enough that she withheld information from him is intriguing, and he drops his arms to his sides and straightens his posture. 

“Speaking of Byers, has he made his appearance yet?” Mulder asks, serving himself a cup of blood-red punch labeled “Eddie’s Innards.”

“Appearance?” Scully repeats with a curious quirk of her eyebrow. “I haven’t seen him. Who does he usually dress up as?”

Her question is answered when the music cuts out and a voice booms, “I’m here, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Everyone shrieks and elbows their way toward the hall, where Byers is strutting out of the master bedroom in full Frank-N-Furter regalia. Scully’s mouth drops open before she lifts her hand to cover it, looking back and forth between Mulder and Byers as he begins to lip sync along to “Sweet Transvestite.” When he throws off his cape, revealing tiny black underwear, a corset, garter and fishnet stockings, Mulder playfully covers Scully’s eyes. 

They drink cup after cup of punch until their lips and tongues are dyed cherry red and their eyes grow glassy. They do the Time Warp every hour on the hour, the steps growing more and more sloppy until finally Mulder wraps his arms around her waist and she stands on the tops of his feet, gasping when his pelvic thrusts push his burgeoning erection against her belly. 

“Hey, that’s my fiance you’re hanging all over!” shouts a very inebriated Janet Weiss as she tugs on Mulder’s arm, making her breasts jiggle in her exposed bra. 

Mulder tightens his grip on Scully, not giving Janet’s decolletage so much as a passing glance. 

“Sorry, Janet,” he says, his eyes on Scully’s face. “Columbia and I have something special.”

“Wanna get some air?” Scully asks, her breath sweet and hot against the side of his face. 

They slip onto the back deck through the sliding glass door, the sudden quiet of the outside making his ears ring and the degree of his intoxication become much more apparent. Scully long ago shed her top hat and jacket, and her bare chest and shoulders glow in the moonlight as she leans back against the railing of the deck, her elbows resting behind her. She smirks at him as he steps up in front of her, his stocking feet bracketing her Mary Janes. He touches the sides of her bowtie, tugging on them as though tightening the knot. 

“Will you take that off?” she asks, letting her head fall to the side. 

He leans forward, feeling for the small plastic clasp on the prop tie. Not finding it, he spins the whole thing around so the bow is at the back and he can see the clasp well enough to unhook it. Scully watches his face while he works, and when he finally gets the bowtie off and holds it up triumphantly, she reaches out and runs her cool fingertips over his waist under his open dress shirt, making him shiver. 

“Cold?” she asks, though her own jaw is starting to quiver. 

“I may be a bit underdressed,” he points out, and she looks down at his body and then back up, a smile stretching slowly across her mouth. 

“I’m a fan of this outfit, actually,” she says, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her fingers dig into his sides and she pulls him a little closer. 

“You have curious tastes in men’s underwear,” he tells her, pushing her hair behind her ears before the breeze sets it loose again. 

“I have curious taste in men,” she counters, titling her face up in invitation. 

He kisses her in sweet, chaste pecks, and then long, slow smooches, and then his fingers are in her hair and his tongue is in her mouth, and she tastes like strawberries and jello shots, and something uniquely her that he hasn’t quite been able to pin down yet. 

She hums, and he knows he’d be getting hard right now if not for the icicles of wind that keep shooting across the back of his neck and over his exposed thighs. He breaks the kiss, brushing his lips across her cheek up to her ear. 

“It kills me to say this, but I think if we don’t head inside soon I may never recover from the level of shrinkage that’s happening right now,” he murmurs, and she laughs brightly. 

“Lucky for me you’ve got plenty to spare,” she purrs, and suddenly getting hard in the whipping cold seems like a possibility. 

He pulls away from her a little, looking at her pink cheeks and the slight tremor of her bottom lip. Lucky for me makes it sound like she’s counting on continued access, both to him and what he’s sporting under his tighty whities. 

“What is…this?” he asks, moving his index finger back and forth between them. 

She doesn’t react to the question, perhaps because her brain processing speed is slowed by Eddie’s innards. Or perhaps because the question isn’t as terrifying to ask as he’d thought it would be. 

The sliding door slurps open and Byers steps through, an unlit cigarette perched between his cherry red lips. 

“Oh, hey guys,” he says, pulling a lighter from the waistband of his garter belt. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Scully observes with some measure of surprise, and Byers shrugs. 

“I don’t, actually, but Frank-N-Furter does and I feel like it helps me get into character,” Byers supplies, then flicks at the lighter until it sparks to life, stoking the tip of his cigarette into a glowing orange ember. “Thanks, by the way, for help with the shoes, Agent Scully,” he adds, gesturing to the six inch white platform heels on his feet. “This is the first year I was able to complete the look.”

Scully nods and Mulder gives her a perplexed expression, raising his eyebrows in question. 

“I gave him some pointers,” she says demurely with a shrug. 

“She’s being modest,” Byers insists. “She sent all three of us through high heel bootcamp. Me for the costume, and Frohike and Langly for fun.”

Mulder’s perplexed expression shifts into one of surprise. He wants to ask when, but he doesn’t want it to sound like he’s upset by it. In fact, the idea that Scully might have a friendship with the Gunmen that extends beyond their shared ties to him makes him feel warm despite the chill in the air. 

The door slides open again and Langly pops his head out, squinting at them without his glasses. 

“Agent Scully, Frohike is looking for you,” he informs them, and Mulder happily follows her back inside where he goes from warm to overheated within the space of three minutes. 

They weave their way back to the living room and find Frohike holding court in the middle of a small circle. When he sees Scully, he smiles widely and gives a thumbs up to a Transylvanian sitting near the stereo. “Whatever Happened to Saturday Night” begins to play, and Frohike extends a hand in invitation that Columbia share this iconic dance with Eddie. Scully plays along, jumping around to the beat of the music and smiling broadly as Frohike spins and dips her, and this time Frank-N-Furter doesn’t put an end to the fun with a pickaxe. 

Mulder watches, grinning, and she intermittently steals little looks at him that feel incredibly intimate. It’s these minutiae of having a person, a partner, that catch him off guard the most. The sports section of the newspaper set aside for him, his coffee arriving just how he likes it even when he didn’t specify, the unspoken understanding that he will always take the room closer to the ice machine. Catching her eye in a crowd and knowing immediately exactly what she’s thinking, exactly how she’s feeling, even when neither of them have said a single word. 

The song ends and he begins to make his way toward her, but stops short and yelps at a sudden sharp pain above his eyebrow. Scully’s face falls and she leaves Frohike, rushing through partygoers until she is by his side. He looks up, dazed, and sees that he walked right into a light fixture that would typically be out of reach above the dining room table. Scully reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, pulling him down closer to her. 

“You’re hurt,” she says, frowning, then wordlessly takes his hand and guides him into the bathroom. 

Scully pushes the door closed and the din of the party fades to a persistent hum, and she begins to root around in the cabinets for antibiotic ointment and a bandaid. Supplies in hand, she hops up onto the counter and motions for him to come closer. He steps into the space between her legs, resting his palms on the tops of her thighs as she cleans and dresses the small cut on his forehead. He fingers her fishnets, plucking at the threads and then slipping his fingers into the holes of the open weave. 

“You should wear these more often,” he says, and she smiles but offers no response. 

“All set,” she tells him, crumpling up the band aid wrapper and chucking it in the direction of the trash can, but missing by a longshot.

“Thanks, Doc,” he says, getting a good look at her costume makeup in the brighter lights of the bathroom. 

She blinks up at him, resting her hands on his bare hips. Her fingertips thread under the waist of his underwear and a shock of arousal rushes through his pelvis. 

“What do you want it to be, Mulder?” she asks, and it’s immediately clear that it’s a continuation of their earlier conversation. 

He screws his mouth to the side. His intention in asking her was that she would be the one to answer—he never gave much thought to what he might say if presented with the same question. Not that he doesn’t know what he wants this to be, that’s one of the few things he’s sure about at this point in his life. But how to tell her in a way that won’t scare her off is another matter entirely. 

“To be perfectly honest, Scully, I’ll take whatever I can get,” he says with a shy smile. 

“Well,” she says on a sigh, “I hope this doesn’t make you think less of me, but you can get a whole lot, Fox Mulder.”

He laughs, surprised, and her cheeks pink even further than the rosy hue of alcohol that’s been present all night. 

“Is that so?” he asks, moving closer. 

She nods, then grabs two fistfuls of his shirt and pulls him into a searing kiss, wrapping her legs around his hips. He tugs her to the edge of the counter so that his groin is tucked tightly between her thighs, and she groans.

Bang bang bang bang.

Scully startles and leans away from him, looking to the door with an alarmed expression.

“You about done in there? I gotta piss like a race horse!” someone calls from the other side, and she hops off the counter and unlocks the door, leaving him to try and conceal his erection with very little fabric to work with. 

As the last guests trickle out into the inky, frostbitten twilight, Scully yawns and Langly suggests that they crash in the guest room, given that it will be near impossible to get a cab tonight. It’s not so much a room as a den, situated on the opposite end of the house from the other bedrooms and down a small flight of three stairs. It’s the kind of split level common area that might have once hosted a 1960s style conversation pit, but now offers a futon and a foosball table, as well as several life-size posters of women in high-cut one piece bathing suits that barely cover their large breasts. 

Mulder sleeps in his costume, minus the shirt, given that he typically sleeps in his underwear anyway. Scully changes out of her Columbia outfit and into the dress shirt from Mulder’s costume, though she buttons it closed. Her face is scrubbed clean and she sits cross-legged beside him on the bed, tracing her fingers over the indents on her legs left behind by the fishnets. 

“C’mere,” he says with a cock of his head, and she slips under the covers as the last of the lights in the house go dark, leaving only the pink glow from a Miller High Life beer sign casting shadows across their faces. 

She cuddles up next to him, her head on his chest and one of her legs draped over his. He still feels drunk, but without all the noise and distraction of the party it’s mellow, not disorienting. Like his busy brain has been dunked in molasses, and he can finish one thought before the next butts in. Currently, he’s thinking about how fucking good this feels, how right. But he’s also thinking about how terrified he is that, like all good things in his life, she will be taken from him too.

Her hand slides across his belly and finds his arm, trailing down and down until she grabs hold of his hand and brings it up to her lips. She kisses his knuckles and then holds them against her cheek, the downy brush of her skin like velvet.

“I’m choosing not to be scared,” she says in a near whisper. 

“Easy as that?” he asks, wondering not for the first time if she can somehow read his mind. 

“No, not easy,” she says, then scoots up a little so her face is hovering beside his. “I just don’t think I can pretend anymore, Mulder.”

“Pretend what?” he asks, knowing damn well what the answer is but wanting to hear her say it. 

She is quiet for a beat, and though he can barely make out her face he knows that their eyes are finding each other in the dark. 

“Like I don’t want this,” she says, her voice tight. 

She kisses him then. Not urgently, not frantic or rushed. Not like it might all evaporate before their very eyes at a moment’s notice. He runs his hands through her hair, down the column of her neck, over the fishnet-dented skin of her thighs. He threads his fingers under the hem of her panties and squeezes her ass, and blood roars in his ears en route to his cock when she whimpers. He unbuttons his own shirt, exposing her breasts before he covers them with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. They keep quiet, only the occasional gasp or low moan interrupting the stalwart tick of Langly’s godfather clock. When she is beneath him, panties discarded and shirt spread open wide, his ridiculous underwear in a ball at his feet, she cradles his face in her hands and whispers, “Please,” as though he would ever deny her. As though she even has to ask. 

It was so haphazard the first time, pants still around ankles as they raced towards the finish line they’ve been carefully avoiding for years. And it was incredible, amazing, nothing he could ever summon an ounce of regret for—but it wasn’t this. He feels her surge around him as he slowly pushes into her, and quickly learns that a moan is good, but holding her breath means it’s even better. He teases her close again and again, bathing her throat in soft kisses as she surrenders to sensation and pleasure. Her fingernails rake painfully across his hips, and he already can’t wait to see it in the morning, this evidence that it’s all real, that it happened. That he held his lips against hers as he made her come, as she went rigid and then melted in his arms, throbbing around him so tightly he couldn’t hold back anymore. That she murmured his name, again and again, with intermittent yeses and you feel so goods. That she wanted him, wants him, maybe always has. But he has her now, and that’s what matters. 

She’s never slept over, hasn’t yet had a chance to, and so they spend their first night together on a futon at the Gunmen’s, his cum sticky between her thighs and their hearts full of hope and optimism that against all odds, it will all work out. 

They choose not to be afraid. And even if they are, they’ll do it anyway. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

Chapter 5 of shifting vertebrae is up! Things are moving now! Featuring Cherri visiting the hotel and a plot-relevant board game night :)

Cross-posted under the cut! Like always, I'd prefer if you read on Ao3, but if you don't have an acct it's also available on here :) hope you guys enjoy!

First | Prev | Next

Shifting Vertebrae

Chapter 5: A Particularly Explosive Game of Uno

Cherri Bomb was not particularly committed to the whole ‘redemption’ thing that the Hazbin Hotel was about.

Sure, she was there sometimes, because it was where Angel was crashing. Not to mention that now that her nemesis-turned-ally was gone, she was getting bored. She was just powerful enough that a fight with her would annoy powerful overlords, and her turf was worth a little less than what would be worth a fight. The occasional band of punks would pick a fight, but for the most part, there was nobody to defend against. Blowing shit up had become fun in the same way scrolling on SinTok was- mildly entertaining in the moment but ultimately its own form of boredom. Clubbing was still fun, at least, but she could hardly do that all day. Without a rival, she was left feeling somewhat purposeless.

The hotel was a nice change. Cherri wasn’t trying to make it out of this fucking pit. She’d done alright for herself in Hell, and while Angie could do what he wanted, Cherri had no intention of dropping her own vices. That being said, a change in environment was at least interesting, which was something her life had begun to lack. It reminded her a bit of what her other options were, made her feel a little less trapped and reminded her that she was choosing the life she lived.

Normally, Cherri showed up uninvited. Uninvited was how she usually showed up to places, after all. This time, Angie actually had asked her to come to board game night, which meant it was important- so of course she’d written herself a reminder, asked a contact to watch her turf, and made sure she'd be there.

“What’s up, bitches?” she'd announced as she slammed the door open. She didn’t get much a reaction anymore. After a while, they'd gotten used to it.

Like always, Angie was scrolling on his phone on a couch. Like always, Husk was at the bar, with his classic I-hate-myself expression. Like always, Niffty could be heard chasing bugs. Unlike always, Angie’s boss’s coworker, Velvette, was sitting at the bar with a gin and tonic, looking like Cherri was the one out of place here. She’d been on a phone call, and Cherri had overheard her saying, “-look, I’m doing what I fucking can, it’s not my fault that you-” before cutting off the sentence. “I’ll call you back. Mhm. Bye.”

What the fuck.

Cherri’s hand closed into a fist. Seriously? It wasn’t enough for Val to have his filthy fucking claws on Angel at work, he had to spy on Angie here too? She’d seen what the Moth’s effect was on Angie before he’d moved out, and she’d seen firsthand how much getting away from Valentino helped Angel. The knowledge dawned on her with a grave certainty that this would make everything go back to how bad it used to be. What kind of friend would she be if she let that happen?

If Charlie was allowing this, she somehow even more naïve than Cherri had ever thought. Overlords weren’t sinners the way she or the other residents of the Hotel were. They were souls who had done something in life to deserve to be here and then they chose to embrace that fact. They caused so much suffering after their deaths for personal gain. Overlords didn’t care if something was immoral or who gets hurt, that’s just how Hell worked. Charlie had yet to hear of an overlord who had voluntarily chosen to change their actions, and she doubted she ever would. Not to mention that this hotel was for redemption. It was for souls trying to escape extermination. Overlords had nothing to fear from staying and everything to lose by leaving Hell.

No overlord would want to go to Heaven. No overlord had reasons to want to escape Hell. No overlord would change their actions because of morals they’d forsaken long ago. So what the fuck was this?

She wasn’t about to forget what she'd just heard either. Based on what she knew about the Vees and her conversations with Angel, there was no way that Velvette wasn’t scheming with Valentino. He’d gotten himself into some mess yet again, and she was fixing it. What Cherri wanted to know was why she was doing this in the middle of the hotel.

Cherri had some experience living in Hell, and wasn’t about to confront Velvette head-on. As much as she wanted to, she filed Velvette into the same category as Val or Alastor (or any other overlords, if she ever met any): people to avoid. So, to the couch she went, moving Angel’s feet to give herself space. “What’s up, fuckhead?”

“Same old shit.” He groaned. “Val’s being Val, as usual. Won’t stop blowing up my phone.”

“Ugh,” Cherri added sympathetically. She glanced over- Velvette was drinking the beverage, doing something on her phone. No earbuds in. She pulled up Angie’s contact.

Cherri: u couldnt hav warned me abt that?????

Angie: ?

Cherri: v over there??

Angel: ohh

Angel: forgot

She gave him a look. His expression was just vaguely sheepish.

Cherri: this shit was NOT in ur contract

Cherri: val doesn’t get to spy on u

Angel: idk i dont think shes a spy

Angel: hasnt tried anything

Angel: not sure why shes here but its not that

Cherri: i wouldn’t put it past val

Cherri: hes such a piece of shit

Angel: fr

She would’ve kept her investigation going, but Charlie chose that moment to set down a game of Clue. And a deck of Uno cards. And a deck of playing cards. Vaggie followed behind her- the two were still attached at the hip even past their honeymoon phase, it was so sweet- and began shuffling.

“No Alastor?” Angie asked.

“He’s had a meeting with Rosie scheduled!” Charlie replied.

“You sure he didn’t just skip board game night?” Cherri pointed out. Charlie didn’t really respond to that.

“You all know the rules,” Vaggie began, trying to keep them focused. “No poker. No cheating. No betting. We’re starting with uno. No stacks.” Husk was the one shuffling. Cherri had always thought this was a questionable choice, as the former gambling overlord was the most likely to be able to deal in his own favor. That being said, it hadn’t helped the first few times she’d pointed this out, and so she’d keep that to herself this time.

“So, Velvette,” Cherri began. “What’s your deal?”

The overlord stopped scrolling, and looked over, clearly disinterested. “What?”

“Why’re you here?”

“Would you want to be around Val or Vox?” she’d replied, essentially blowing off Cherri’s question. Were all of them fucking serious? Did they all seriously expect her to just sit here, acting civil around one of the Vees, and not do anything? Vaggie was giving her a look, like she shouldn’t start an argument. Fine. But she wasn’t staying here, and she was only here for Angie. Frankly, in Cherri’s opinion, this was clearly a way for Val to keep hurting Angel, and she wasn’t about to just sit by and let him do this. Even if she wasn’t, she still was part of the business that had done this to him, and she’d still stood by and let everything happen. Cherri was going to get to the fucking bottom of this, even if the rest were dragging their fucking feet.

“I’m going to the toilet,” Cherri told Charlie as she went to the stairs. She knew roughly which room everyone else was staying in, which means the occupied one that she wasn’t familiar with would be Velvette’s. Whatever Voxtech bugs or shit she was using would be kept there, probably. Then, Cherri would have hard proof about whatever the fuck was going on.

After all, Angie didn’t know why Velvette was there, and neither did anyone else. The overlord wasn’t giving her any useful information. Cherri wasn’t concerned about ethics when her best friend was on the line. Time to blow shit up. She found the room she was looking for and tossed a bomb towards the door. It’d be loud and draw attention, but honestly the others were used to explosions in Pentagram city- it might be fine.

Sure, she’d promised not to blow anything else up, but she’d pay Charlie for repairs. It’s not like this was the first time she’d blown up a small part of the hotel.

The door disappeared in a satisfying flash of red smoke.

Cherri had expected something like from the influences that Velvette promoted. Perfection was the Vees’ brand, and she’d honestly thought that it extended to all aspects of their lives. Not to mention that every video Velvette made went viral, so of course she’d seen the room Velvette filmed in- and she’d just accepted that that’s how the overlord lived.

Velvette’s room was an impressive fucking mess.

Papers were fucking everywhere. There were two corkboards on the wall, one with crushed pictures of the other two Vees. They looked like they’d been through a tornado. Weird.

Moving on from that, the other corkboard had pictures of a Voxtech worker. It had copious amounts of red string and sticky notes. It looked like a conspiracy board of some kind. Cherri snapped a picture, because what the fuck? Was Velvette stalking some random sinner, was this an ex, was this someone from Velvette’s former life, what was going on?

On the floor was various papers, discarded energy drink cans, a magenta binder full of somehow even more unorganized papers, and various books. Cherri checked the titles. One on contract law, one about a history of overlords, another on contract law, one on ethics of all things, one on politics. Was she trying to strengthen her contracts? Cherri could understand why Velvette would want four of them if this was for power, but ethics? Was that to help manipulate Charlie?

She picked up the binder and flipped it open to the first page, which was an annotated copy of some poor soul’s contract. She didn’t get the chance to read those annotations, however, because Velvette’s voice came through the doorway.

“I’d like to hear one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.”

Cherri’s fear of Velvette had always been a lot like her cautious fear of all overlords- the fact that if she pissed her off, she could die. Right now, the fact that Velvette could kill her was more real, most likely because instead of a ‘could die,’ this was a ‘would die.’

At least she’d die relatively confident that whatever Velvette’s shit was, it was unrelated to Angie.

Velvette made some kind of hand signal, and all sounds stopped. The dust in the air was perfectly still. It was like the world around them was a video that Velvette had chosen to pause. It did make sense to Charlie that Velvette would have some kind of social media-related powers. It’d be cool if she wasn’t about to die with nobody being able to come and help her.

“I don’t think you realize what you’ve just messed with,” Velvette began. “Did you think I wouldn’t fucking notice? I have some form of basic security. Frankly, there is nothing in my life that’s any of your fucking business.”

If Cherri was about to die again, she may as well go out the way she’d lived- rashly and honestly. “‘None of my fucking business?’ Mate, whatever plan you and the others have come up with is endangering Angie. I-”

Velvette cut her off. “Do you seriously fucking think I care about Val’s weird-ass obsession with him?” She scoffed. “Oh, and I couldn’t care less about Vox’s shit with Alastor. They’re both fucking pathetic.”

“Then fucking explain it!” Cherri growled.

“I don’t owe you shit,” Velvette responded. “Did you forget that you’re the one without leverage?” Her voice was cool, in a way that sounded controlled. Instead of her words being a conduit for her rage, her rage was a tool in itself. Cherri fucking hated overlords.

“I suppose you’d be ok with this losing this, then?” she asked, holding up the binder in one hand while tossing a bomb up and down in the other. “If I’m dying either way, I’m taking this fucker with me.”

She could actually see panic flash on Velvette’s face, and she could see the overlord force it under a mask. Cherri supposed that Velvette usually ‘cut’ to hide moments like that, which was how the others hadn’t found any moments where they struck a nerve. Likewise, maybe she couldn’t cut when she’d already hit pause?

“Your choice,” Cherri said. She really didn’t have any other leverage, so she really needed this to work.

And there was that rage. But Velvette clearly didn’t want a head-on battle- which was weird, because most overlords had something to help with that, but it seemed like Velvette’s powers were somehow weaker maintaining this state, while Cherri was at full strength- and so she actually fucking conceded.

“Give me back the fucking binder, and we can both forget about this,” she’d hissed out.

“Actually, I’d like to know what’s so important in there.” Cherri opened it and pointed to the first page. “Why are you analyzing contracts? What’s with your fucking stalker board? I think I might have to ask around if I can’t figure things out from the source…” She let her voice trail off. Ok, this part was honestly just kind of fun. Velvette was so mad. She could almost see the steam coming out of her ears.

“Or I could just keep this for a little bit,” Cherri added. “You know, instead of destroying it.”

“Fucking fine!” Velvette exploded. Finally she was yelling. “I’ll explain this to you, but you need to sign an NDA.”

“I don’t know,” Cherri said with a smirk. “Why should I?”

“You don’t like my coworkers, do you?” Velvette replied. She seemed to realize she finally regained a foothold in the conversation. “Neither do I right now. Destroy that, and everything I’ve been planning against them dies. Do you want to give Val a win?”

What the fuck?

“All the information you want,” Velvette said, summoning a piece of paper. “Just sign and don’t destroy my notes.”

Cherri skimmed the document. Velvette had hid a few other conditions- not her soul, but Cherri would be obligated to help with whatever this was. On the other hand, Cherri added a clause that Velvette would be obligated to be honest.

She wasn’t a huge fan, but frankly, Cherri was getting bored. She also a clause that she'd only obligated to help if Velvette had been honest about hurting Valentino and Vox in some way. Then, she added a condition that she couldn’t be forced to put Angie in danger. Whatever the fuck this was, at least it’d give her something to do. Maybe she’d even get to blow something up.

There was a reddish-pink glow as Cherri signed. What Velvette explained was beyond the scope of what Cherri had imagined. A grin had grown on her face- the inevitable chaos in the fallout was the kind that Cherri lived for.

When the two headed back downstairs, Angie almost immediately commented, “Damn Cherri, didn’t know you wanted to tap that.” She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

“You know we weren’t doing that, fuckhead,” she responded as she gave him an affectionate shoulder punch.

Angel merely laughed, and the others looked mildly uncomfortable. It seemed that they'd dealt the cards and had been waiting for Cherri and Vel, which was admittedly understandable. She sat herself next to Angel to, fully intending to cheat off of his cards as much as possible, as was her right as his best friend.

When Vel won, Cherri couldn’t even be as mad as she normally was at losing. But she did destroy Vel in the rematch.

Cherri wasn’t committed to the redemption concept and she definitely had no intention to leave Hell. But being at the hotel was worth it sometimes. It was worth it because seeing Angel both happy and sober was a rarity she’d thought extinct before he’d showed up here. It was worth it because even though Sir Pentious was gone, she’d seen him in a new light in those final moments. It was worth it because she had these experiences with new people she wouldn't have met otherwise. And it was worth it because she knew what was coming, and if the dominoes fell correctly she’d end up closer to the top of the Pride Ring’s hierarchy than she’d thought possible.

[cjwritesforyou]

College Freshman Chapter 9

Chapter 9 of this daily rom-com series, uploaded at 1EST everyday.

Thomas and Angelina set up a second study session? What will happen this time? Will it be like last time?

What was she supposed to do? Angelina didn’t know. She didn’t know how to start a conversation with Thomas.

At the table sat Thomas munching on some chips. Angelina was studying him. Very intensely.

Thomas turned and saw her watching him. She turned away when he looked. He only got more confused.

“How are we going to study?” Thomas asked.

“You don’t need to study,” Angelina said.

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Not for you.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas pouted and ate another chip.

They had been in the same study room as last time. They hadn’t done any studying–and probably wouldn’t–but Angelina wanted to figure him out.

“What do you like to do?” Angelina asked.

“Eat chips,” Thomas smiled.

“For fun.”

“Eat more chips.”

“With friends.”

“I’m eating some right now, aren’t I?”

“You know what I mean,” Angelina said.

Thomas smiled and put the chips down. He looked like he was going to say something.

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” Thomas said.

“You don’t have trouble making friends. You just stay quiet,” Angelina said.

“I do stay quiet.”

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“It’s better if I do that! Plus, not everyone needs to know my business.”

“I don’t even know your business.”

“I don’t know yours either,” Thomas smirked. “I can’t open up so easily.”

“I get that,” Angelina said. “But you should. You’d have a lot more friends.”

“I don’t need a lot more friends.”

“Then what do you like to do for fun?”

“Eat chips!”

“Besides that,” Angelina said.

Thomas didn’t respond right away. He sat up in his chair and cleared his throat.

“I like to write papers,” Thomas said.

“Papers? On what?” Angelina asked.

“On psychology. I think it’s really interesting,” Thomas said. “There’s so much depth and complexion to write about, I could never get bored.”

Angelina started laughing from her chair and Thomas looked her in the eye.

“Is it that funny?” he asked.

“A little,” Angelina said. “In a good way, though.”

“In a good way?”

“Of course it’s good. It’s a layer I didn’t think you had.”

“Really,” Thomas said. “I always assumed I’d get made fun of for it.”

“Some people might laugh. Like me,” Angelina said. “But it’s a good thing. I think everyone would find it interesting.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Angelina put her head in her hand. “I have so many questions to ask you now.”

“You do?”

“Of course!” Angelina smiled. “Like how did you even get started doing that? What made you want to do that?” Angelina stopped. “Is that why you’re late for class sometimes?”

“I don’t always finish on time for class.” Thomas explained. “Some papers are longer than others, and I get a commission fee for it.”

“That makes so much sense! Wait, you’re basically a professional then.”

“If that’s what you want to call it. I wouldn’t do it for free.”

“That’s so cool!”

“It is?”

Angelina looked at Thomas with a sense of admiration. She wasn’t expecting this from him. She was expecting normal college boy stuff. Like, going out with friends, to parties, or clubs. But this, she would’ve never seen coming.

“Is that why you don’t study much? Or take notes?” Angelina asked.

“Well, it would be a waste of time,” Thomas said. “I learned this stuff a while ago.”

“Then why are you in college?”

Thomas sighed and sat back. He slumped in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

“I have to,” Thomas explained. “I have to get these credits.”

“You have to?”

“I do. The company I’m writing for is covering it up, but they want me to have a college degree.”

“Is this above my paygrade?”

“It might be. I haven’t told anyone this.”

“Then why tell me?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Just a hunch?” Angelina asked.

“A hunch. A good feeling,” Thomas explained. “I feel like we’re going to have a lot more study sessions.”

Angelina smiled and hid her face behind her hand. She didn’t know why, but she was blushing a lot. On the inside. Angie didn’t know what this feeling was, but she didn’t mind it. She didn’t mind it at all.

“What about you?” Thomas asked. “What do you do for fun? What’s your story?”

Angelina thought for a second and stood up. She shut her computer. Thomas sat up right away. He didn’t know what was going on.

“I’ll tell you next study session,” Angelina offered.

“We didn’t study,” Thomas said.

“We can’t anyways,” Angelina laughed. “Plus, you don’t need to. Will you come with me to the elevator?”

“I’d be happy to.”

They walked out of the room and were silent to the elevator, but they both had a smile on their face. Neither looked at each other, but knew. They reached the elevators and Angelina pushed the button. She turned to face him.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Angelina said.

“Of course,” Thomas said. “We should do this again sometime.”

“We should. This was a lot of fun.”

The elevator beeped and was there. Angelina didn’t know what to expect, but Thomas acted fast.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” he said and hugged her.

Angelina was flustered, but she hugged him back and waved. Thomas waved back and she stepped in the elevator. The doors closed and he stayed to watch her off, smiling as the doors closed.

When the elevator doors did close, Angie found a bar to hold onto and let her happiness out. She was smiling from ear to ear. How could she not?

When she got to the bottom, Molly was there and smiled seeing her. She walked out of the elevator with a smile on her face. She couldn’t help it.

“Someone’s happy,” Molly said.

“That someone is me,” Angie said.

“I didn’t even have to intervene.”

“You never have to!”

“I do, though. You know it.”

Both girls smiled and they walked through campus back to their dormitory. It was a good night, after all. She learned so much about him, something that no one else knows.