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23victoria · 2 months

Text

motive

pairings: 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

word count: 𝟦𝗄

warnings: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂-𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇, 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒/𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇)

authors note: 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾!! 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖽, 𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍,

𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌?! CLICK HERE

1k celebration f1 masterlist

The nightclub in Monaco was buzzing with energy. The pulsing music, vibrant lights, and the aroma of expensive perfumes created an atmosphere of glamour and excitement. It was the perfect setting for a night out with friends.

Lando, Charles, Carlos, Yuki, and Oscar were in high spirits, celebrating a rare weekend off from their hectic racing schedules. The club was packed with people, all eager to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers. Lando, in particular, was drawing a lot of attention. His reputation as a playboy was well-known, and he had just finished making out with a stunning brunette on the dance floor.

As Lando returned to the VIP area, his friends greeted him with knowing smirks. "Playboy Lando strikes again," Charles teased, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Never change, mate," Carlos added with a laugh. "I think you've made more conquests off the track than on it."

Yuki grinned mischievously. "Maybe they should start giving out trophies for that."

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, come on, guys. I'm just having fun."

Oscar, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, Playboy Lando, your fun might be interrupted. Lily and her friends are on their way."

Lando's playful demeanor faltered for a moment. "Lily? As in Lily, your girlfriend?"

Oscar nodded. "Yep, and she's bringing her best friend Y/N."

At the mention of Y/N, Lando's curiosity was piqued. He had heard Oscar talk about her before, but he had never met her. As the group settled back into their seats, Lando's mind wandered, wondering what she was like.

It wasn't long before Lily and her friends arrived. As they approached the VIP section, Lando's eyes were immediately drawn to Y/N. She was stunning, with a natural beauty that stood out even in the dimly lit club. Her confidence and grace were evident in the way she carried herself, and Lando felt an unexpected flutter in his chest.

He watched as Oscar greeted Lily with a kiss and then turned to introduce Y/N to the group. "Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the boys."

Y/N smiled politely and exchanged greetings with everyone. When she finally turned to Lando, he felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He extended his hand, trying to hide his nervousness. "Hi, I'm Lando."

She shook his hand briefly, her expression neutral. "Nice to meet you, Lando."

Lando was taken aback by her lack of enthusiasm. He was used to girls fawning over him, but Y/N seemed completely uninterested. Determined to make a good impression, he flashed his most charming smile. "So, Y/N, what do you do?"

"I'm studying to be a nurse practitioner, and I also have my own makeup brand called Ethereal Beauty," she replied, her tone professional.

Lando raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Wow, that's incredible. You must be really busy."

Y/N nodded. "I am. But I love what I do."

Their conversation was cut short as the music picked up, and Y/N excused herself to join Lily on the dance floor. Lando watched her go, feeling a strange sense of longing. He turned to Oscar, who was now by his side. "Hey, Oscar, tell me more about Y/N."

Oscar chuckled. "Y/N, seriously bro, you can’t stick to any of the other girls in the cluIb.

Lando rolled his eyes, “Just tell me about her.”

“She's been Lily's best friend since college. Shes a sweet and funny girl. She's very smart, driven, and not easily impressed. I also consider her one of my closest friends, so please don’t do anything stupid."

Lando frowned. "Not easily impressed? What do you mean?"

Oscar shrugged. "She's not the type to fall for charm and good looks. She's had guys chase after her before, but she's focused on her career and her goals. You’ll have a tough time getting her attention."

Lando's determination only grew. "We'll see about that."

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Over the next few days, Lando couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. He decided to make his move and invited her to a casual lunch, hoping to get to know her better. To his delight, she agreed, though her demeanor remained cool and composed.

As Lando arrived at the charming café overlooking the harbor, he felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He was determined to make a good impression. But as he walked in, he was taken aback to see not just Y/N, but also Oscar and Lily already seated at the table.

"Hey, Lando," Oscar greeted him with a wide grin, barely containing his amusement. "Surprise!"

Lando forced a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Hi, Oscar. Lily. Didn't expect to see you here."

Y/N looked at Lando with a calm expression. "I thought it would be nice to have some company."

Oscar gave Lando a look that clearly said, "I told you so," and couldn't resist chuckling. "Yeah, mate. We thought we'd join in the fun."

Determined not to let this setback ruin his chance, Lando took a seat and focused on Y/N. "So, Y/N, how's Ethereal Beauty going? I heard you launched a new product recently."

Y/N smiled politely. "Yes, we just released a new line of organic skincare products. It's been a lot of work, but the response has been great."

Lando nodded, genuinely interested. "That's amazing. I'd love to hear more about it."

Y/N sipped her coffee before answering. "I've always been passionate about makeup and skincare. I started making my own products in college, and it just grew from there. Now, I have a medium, loyal customer base, that's growing."

Lando listened intently, genuinely interested. "That's amazing. It must be a lot of work balancing that with your studies."

"It is," Y/N admitted. "But I enjoy it."

Throughout the lunch, Lando tried his best to engage Y/N in conversation, asking her about her studies, her business, and her passions. Despite Oscar and Lily's presence, he remained focused, trying to show her that he was serious about getting to know her.

Oscar, meanwhile, enjoyed the spectacle, occasionally nudging Lily and whispering jokes about Lando's persistence. But Lando ignored him, determined to make the most of this opportunity.

As the lunch drew to a close, Lando turned to Y/N with a hopeful smile. "Maybe we could do this again sometime? Just the two of us?"

Y/N smiled politely but shook her head. "I appreciate the invitation, Lando, but I'm not looking for anything right now."

Lando's heart sank. "I understand. Thanks for coming out today."

As they parted ways, Lando couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment. He had never met someone so immune to his charms, and it only made him want to try harder.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, Lando decided to take a different approach. He invited Y/N to one of his races, hoping to impress her with his skills on the track. To his surprise, she accepted the invitation.

On the day of the race, Lando was nervous but excited. He spotted Y/N in the paddock, looking effortlessly chic in a casual outfit. He approached her with a confident smile. "Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it."

"Thanks for inviting me," she replied, her tone still reserved.

As they walked through the paddock, Lando introduced her to his team and showed her around. He hoped that seeing him in his element would spark some interest. During the race, he drove with extra determination, pushing himself to the limit.

After the race, Lando found Y/N waiting for him. "So, what did you think?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Y/N gave a small, appreciative smile. "It was really impressive, Lando. Congrats on second place."

Lando’s face lit up with genuine joy. "Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we could celebrate with dinner later?"

As they spoke, Lando noticed Lily chatting animatedly with Oscar nearby, their conversation punctuated with laughter. Oscar caught Lando’s eye and gave him a knowing look, clearly amused by the situation and subtly indicating, “Let’s see what she says.”

Y/N hesitated before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Lando. I'm just not interested in dating right now."

Lando's shoulders slumped. "I understand. Thanks for coming, though."

As he watched her leave, Lando felt a mix of frustration and admiration. Y/N was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he couldn't get her out of his mind.

Determined not to give up, Lando decided to enlist the help of his friends. One evening, he gathered Charles, Carlos, Yuki, and Oscar at his apartment. "I need your help," he confessed. "I can't stop thinking about Y/N, and I don't know what to do."

Charles smirked. "Still hung up on her, huh?"

Carlos shook his head with a laugh. "Bro, she's not interested. Maybe it's time to move on."

Yuki nodded in agreement. "Yeah, there are plenty of other girls out there."

Oscar, however, looked thoughtful. "You know, Lando, Y/N is very independent. She values honesty and sincerity. Maybe you need to show her a different side of yourself."

Lando frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Be genuine," Oscar suggested. "Show her that you're more than just a playboy. Prove to her that you can be serious and committed."

Lando considered his friend's advice. "I'll give it a try."

The next time he saw Y/N, it was at a charity event organized by Lily. Lando took a deep breath and approached her, determined to be sincere. "Hi, Y/N. Can we talk?"

She looked at him curiously. "Sure, what's up?"

"I just wanted to apologize," Lando began. "I know I've been trying too hard, and I probably came off as annoying. But the truth is, I really like you. You're different from anyone I've ever met, and I respect your dedication to your career and goals. I just wanted you to know that."

Y/N seemed taken aback by his honesty. "Thank you, Lando. I appreciate that."

For the first time, Lando saw a hint of warmth in her eyes. "Maybe we can start over as friends?" he suggested.

Y/N smiled softly. "I'd like that."

Despite their new friendship, Lando's feelings for Y/N only grew stronger. He found himself thinking about her constantly, longing to be more than just friends. His friends noticed the change in him and couldn't help but tease him.

"Look at him," Charles said one day as they relaxed in the paddock. "Our playboy is turning into an obsessed puppy."

Carlos laughed. "He's delusional if he thinks she's going to change her mind."

Oscar, however, remained supportive. "Give him a break, guys. He's serious about her."

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

One evening, Lando received a call from Oscar. "Hey, man. I heard something you might want to know."

Lando's heart raced. "What is it?"

Oscar sighed. "Lily told me that Y/N went on a date last night. With some guy she met through mutual friends. Apparently, she had a great time and they're planning to see each other again."

Lando felt a surge of jealousy and frustration. "Who is this guy?"

"I don't know much about him, just that she met him at a coffee shop," Oscar replied. "Listen, it’s now or never. I’ve seen how much you've changed, you care about her. Go tell her."

Before Oscar could say anything else Lando hung up.

That evening, Lando found himself outside Y/N's apartment building, his mind racing. He knew he was acting impulsively, but he couldn't help it. He needed to see her, to understand what was happening.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Y/n pov

Lando has been pursuing you for what feels like forever. Everyone in your shared social circle knows it, including you. Despite his relentless efforts, you've kept your distance. The undeniable charm and boyish good looks that make Lando irresistible to so many girls are the very reasons you've been wary. His reputation as a playboy precedes him, and you don't want to be another notch on his bedpost. But Lando isn't one to give up easily.

It's a cool Saturday evening, and you're holed up in your cozy apartment, attempting to focus on a book. The soft hum of the city outside your window provides a soothing backdrop, but your mind keeps wandering to Lando and his recent attempts to win your heart. The flowers delivered to your workplace, the spontaneous lunch dates, the lingering looks—each one chips away at your resolve, leaving you more confused than ever.

As you're sitting on the couch you hear a knock at your door. Opening it you see him. "Lando? What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice tense.

You hesitate for a moment, then step aside, allowing him to enter. As he walks past you, the scent of his cologne fills the air, making your heart skip a beat. You close the door and follow him into the living room, where he collapses onto your couch like he owns the place.

"You can't keep doing this, Lando," you say, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive stance.

"Doing what?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"Showing up unannounced, sending me gifts, trying to win me over. It's not going to work."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I heard you went on a date. With some guy. Is that true?"

Your eyes narrowed. "Yes, it is. But why does that matter to you?"

"Because I care about you," Lando blurted out. "I can't stop thinking about you, and the thought of you with someone else drives me crazy."

Your heart skipped a beat as your expression softened slightly, but you remained guarded. "Lando, I've told you before, I'm not looking for a relationship right now. I have my career to focus on."

"But why can't you give us a chance?" Lando pleaded. "I know I've been a playboy in the past, but that's not who I am with you. I want to be serious, to prove that I can be the man you deserve."

He looks at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of frustration and determination. "Why not? What's so wrong with wanting to be with you?"

"Because I know your reputation," you snap, your voice rising. "You've been with so many girls, Lando. Why would I believe that I'm any different?"

He stands up, closing the distance between you in a few quick steps. "You are different, Y/N. Can't you see that?"

You shake your head, taking a step back. "I don't believe you. You can have any girl you want. Why me?"

His eyes soften, and he takes another step closer. "Because you're the one I can't stop thinking about. You're the one I want, Y/N."

"Why?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What's your motive, Lando?"

He stares at you for a long moment, the air between you crackling with tension. "You really want to know?" he finally says, his voice low and intense.

"Yes," you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Without another word, he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you against him, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that's all heat and desperation. You gasp, your hands flying up to grip his shirt, your mind spinning from the intensity of it all.

The kiss deepens, and you find yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"That's my motive," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I want you, Y/N. Not just for a night, not just as a fling. I want you."

You stare at him, your heart aching with a mixture of longing and fear. "But how do I know this is real?" you ask, your voice trembling.

He cups your face in his hands, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because I've never felt this way about anyone before. I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Tears fill your eyes, and you lean into his touch, your heart breaking and mending all at once. "I'm scared, Lando," you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I know," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He kisses you again, softer this time, but no less intense. His hands roam your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You respond in kind, your own hands exploring the contours of his body, memorizing every dip and curve.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. By the time you reach the bed, you're both naked, your bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desire. Lando lowers you onto the bed, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you beneath him.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

You reach up, pulling him down for another kiss. "Show me," you murmur against his lips.

He doesn't need any further encouragement. He kisses his way down your body, taking his time to worship every inch of you. His touch is both gentle and demanding, driving you wild with need. By the time he finally settles between your legs, you're trembling with anticipation.

He teases you with soft, feather-light kisses, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. When his tongue finally flicks out to taste you, you cry out, your hips lifting off the bed in a desperate plea for more.

He works you with a skill and precision that leaves you breathless, his tongue and fingers driving you to the brink of ecstasy. You can feel the tension building in your core, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like you're going to explode.

And then you do, the orgasm crashing over you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body trembles beneath him, and he doesn't stop until you've ridden out every wave of pleasure.

When you finally come back to yourself, he's there, kissing his way back up your body, his lips soft and gentle against your flushed skin. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of the pleasure he's just given you.

"You're amazing," you whisper, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm.

He smiles against your lips, his eyes shining with love and desire. "I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel his cock pressing against your thigh, and the need for him flares up again, hot and urgent. You reach down, wrapping your hand around him, and he groans, his hips thrusting into your touch.

"Please, Lando," you beg, your voice raw with need. "I need you inside me."

He doesn't make you wait. With a swift, practiced motion, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes inside you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely, and you both moan at the same time.

He moves slowly at first, his thrusts deep and measured, each one sending a wave of pleasure through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back.

"Harder," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

He complies, his pace quickening, each thrust more forceful than the last. The pleasure builds again, even more intense this time, and you cling to him, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you.

"Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You're incredible."

You can feel the tension building again, the pleasure coiling tight in your core. You know you're close, and you can tell he is too. You reach down between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge, your second orgasm crashing over you with even more force than the first. You cry out his name, your body trembling beneath him as he continues to thrust into you, driving you higher and higher.

With a final, shuddering thrust, he follows you over the edge, his release filling you with a warmth that leaves you breathless. He collapses onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around you as you both come down from the high.

For a few moments, you lie there together, your bodies tangled, your breaths slowly returning to normal. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and awe.

You smile, your heart swelling with love for him. "I love you too, Lando."

He holds you close, his arms a protective cocoon around you. You feel safe and cherished, the connection between you stronger than ever.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Lando props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about a bath?" he suggests, his voice still husky.

You nod, feeling both excited and exhausted. "That sounds perfect."

He helps you up and leads you to the bathroom, where he starts running a hot bath. You watch as he adds some bath salts and a few drops of essential oil, the room filling with a soothing lavender scent. Once the tub is ready, he helps you in, then climbs in after you, settling behind you so you can lean back against his chest.

The warm water envelops you both, and you sigh in contentment, feeling the tension melt away. Lando wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you relax together.

"Thank you," you murmur, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

"For what?"

"For being patient with me," you whisper, your voice soft and sincere. "For not giving up."

Lando tightens his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You're worth every second," he replies, his voice filled with conviction.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the sound of the water lapping gently against the tub the only noise. The intimacy of the moment is almost overwhelming, and you feel a swell of emotions rising within you.

"Lando," you begin hesitantly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I need to tell you something."

He tilts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours. "What is it?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I've been scared," you confess. "Scared of getting hurt, scared of being just another girl to you. But tonight... tonight was different. You were different."

His gaze softens, and he reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "Y/N, you have no idea how much you mean to me. I know I've made mistakes in the past, but you're not just another girl. You're the girl."

Tears well up in your eyes, and you lean into his touch. "I have feelings for you, Lando," you admit, your voice trembling. "Real, deep feelings. But I'm scared. I'm scared of falling too hard, of getting hurt."

Lando's eyes shine with emotion as he listens to your confession. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "I understand," he whispers. "But I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, Y/N. Not just for now, but for the long haul. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. It's everything you've wanted to hear, but the fear still lingers. "What if it doesn't work out?" you ask, your voice small and vulnerable.

Lando tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I'm not going to let fear dictate our future. We have something special, Y/N. Something worth fighting for."

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. His words give you hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness of your doubts. "Okay," you whisper. "Let's give this a try."

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luxaofhesperides · 11 months

Text

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day.

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly.

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building.

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest.

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows.

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly.

“Got you!”

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain.

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago.

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing.

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder.

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers.

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there.

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly.

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again.

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats.

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #stray!danny #first time writing stray danny but i love him :) i think selina can make him worse :)#duke really worked overtime just to have a chance to flirt w danny #he heard that stray and catwoman would be out that night and suited up immediately like. dont worry guys i got stray :) yall can go now :)#thank you for the prompt!!#prompt fill #my writing

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year

Text

luxiem and noisy sex

hey guys sorry i was mia for a while you see it was because i was [DEAFENING EXPLOSION AND AFTERSHOCK FOLLOWED BY COLLAPSING DEBRIS, THUNDER CRASH, BICYCLE HORN SOUND EFFECTS]

tags: established relationship, gender neutral reader, smut, bottom/top or sub/dom not specified

⚠️ blow job mention in shu's entry

⚠️ mature content under read more. content under read more is not intended for minors

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland

relatively quiet. ike doesn't make a racket often— it's more likely that he'll either tease you with dirty talk and come-ons

but once his brain gets too fucked out to stay coy, he's all shaky breaths and little whines

you can hear him quivering under his breath, as if getting caught would be a problem

which it very much isn't

invite him to get a little louder if you want an adorably flustered, adorably hard novelist. he'll feel so dirty if you do, but at the same time, he feels like making noise proves how much he trusts you

if you're noisy:

even though he doesn't make much noise, sex with you isn't complete without coaxing such sweet squeaks out of you

he takes it as a challenge, trying to figure out which part of your body is most sensitive by how loud you react

it makes him feel so sexy, and desirable, and powerful no matter what position he's in

prefers when you can't form words anymore, only helpless cries. oh, and if you actually do cry? god, he'll remember that forever

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

brings a whole new definition to "loud in bed". like seriously, even if you've had noisy partners before, luca puts them all to shame without even trying

he reacts to almost everything, and it doesn't take him a lot to get there. sometimes you wonder if he's faking it, but no, he's just that aware of everything he feels

he starts out with exclamations, and somehow forms words all the way until the end of the night. the sentences stop making sense halfway through, and by the time he climaxes it's a miracle if he can even get through his words without tripping up

if you're noisy:

is he the luckiest guy in the universe or what? it feels great to have someone that gets what it's like to be loud

doesn't even care what you say or do as long as he can hear it. just being able to hear those noises has his engine revving

then again, when you're lips are pressed up to him and he can still hear the muffled sounds and your vibrating throat, he just wants to fuck until you both white out in the afterglow

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

shu doesn't take sex too seriously and just wants to have fun above all else, and you have to wonder if it's because he always laughs at least once when you sleep together

he's actually quite ticklish, and his moans sometimes end in giggles. they sound so sweet even though what you do under the covers is anything but

this is one of the few things he's actually insecure about. he's so worried that it might kill the mood or make his partner feel self conscious

don't take it personally. he whimpers plenty when he's not giggling, and the last thing he wants is a misunderstanding just because of how his body expresses pleasure

if you're noisy:

sometimes he wishes he could commit every one of your noises to memory. they're easily his favorite part of going down on you

he fantasizes about your voice getting excited often. if you're ever apart, he'd love to listen to you masturbate and call his name over the phone

hell, even hearing his name from your trembling lips has his cock throbbing, ready to fill that pretty mouth and give you something to really choke on

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma

tends to make more guttural sounds. growls, hums, and purrs galore. vox doesn't even try to make them sound sultry, they're just so low and irresistible, as expected of the voice demon himself

but if you catch him off guard you might just make him squeak in surprise and satisfaction. he even stutters and trips over his words

which is something he gets embarrassed over, especially since all his other noises are still on the low end of the spectrum, but calling attention to it gets him even more aroused

great sex usually ends with high-pitched whimpers and gasps, and the best ones have him screaming as he orgasms

if you're noisy:

your noises make him so unbelievably horny, you have no idea. the second he realizes you're loud, he wants nothing more than to hear you all night

it's a huge ego boost and fuels him to keep pushing his limits. anything to keep you crying out for him

he'll goad you into responding to his dirty talk just so he can hear you whimper in-between your words

whether you want to be praised or degraded, he tries to mention your voice and noises as much as he can since it's all he can think about

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

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en-eunhee · 18 days

Text

` ୨ ₊ THE REASON WHY EVERYONE HAS A CRUSH ON EUNHEE

SUMMARY. eunhee has an irresistible charm that makes every idol fall for her instantly

DANIELLE'S NOTE. wowie first fan made content!! i used my style for making the thumbnail so i hope you guys enjoy it >3< (+ small lsfm reference in here so if you catch it you know it)

— EUNCHAE STAR DIARY

eunchae's eyes sparkled as she recalled the moment she first met eunhee. "eunhee unnie, when you first walked in, i was so shocked. you're so tall and charismatic," she giggled, glancing at eunhee with admiration. can you teach me your ways? like, how are you so cool all the time?"

eunhee blushed, her usual calm demeanor slipping as she laughed. "what are you talking about, eunchae? i'm not that cool as you say." she said, a little shy.

"no, seriously. you just... have this presence," eunchae continued, beaming. "it's like you're walking in slow motion while everyone else is normal speed."

eunhee shook her head, laughing harder. "you're making me embarrassed now!" she said, trying to hide her flushed face. "but... maybe i can teach you a few tricks."

— BEHIND THE SCENES OF ENHYPEN MUSIC BANK

sooyoung stood at a distance, watching eunhee pose gracefully on the stairs as the manager snapped photos. eunhee looked effortlessly elegant, and sooyoung couldn't take her eyes off her. after a few moments, sooyoung pulled out her own phone and snapped a couple of candid shots of eunhee.

she glanced down at the pictures, her breath catching. "why does she look this good?" sooyoung muttered to herself, a small smile forming on her lips. "i’m gonna delete this photo," she joked, showing the picture to the camera "she looks way too good in it."

the manager laughed while sooyoung grinned, admiring the shot again. "actually, never mind. I’ll keep it for… research purposes," she added with a wink, completely whipped for eunhee.

— WEVERSE LIVE WITH SUNGHOON

on weverse live, sunghoon was casually chatting with fans when he spotted a comment that caught his attention.

he squinted at the screen, reading it out loud with a slight smile, "what’s your ideal type?"

leaning back, he thought for a second before his eyes lit up, a playful grin forming. "hmm... my ideal type? i like a girl who's, let’s see... 167 cm, enfj, born on may 17, and... looks like a black cat."

he smirked, clearly amused with himself. the chat exploded as fans realized how oddly specific his description was. with a soft, almost shy look, he added, “yeah... someone like that.”

it was obvious to everyone—sunghoon was completely in love with her.

— MUSIC BANK INTERVIEW

as eunchae smiled at eunhee. “eunhee-ssi, what’s something the fans don’t know about your preparations for this comeback?”

eunhee blushed, laughing softly. “well, i practiced the choreography a lot in my dorm room... sometimes even with a teddy bear as a dance partner."

jungwon’s eyes were fixed on her, entranced by the way her smile lit up the room.

eunchae grinned. “ah, that’s very cute, eunhee-ssi.” she turned to jungwon, “jungwon-ssi, can you please show us a key point of the choreography?”

jungwon blinked, suddenly realizing everyone was staring at him. “ah, oh wait, uh, our choreography has so many fun movements, but one key point is…” he stammered before laughing nervously.

— EUNHEE'S ENDING FAIRY

as eunhee finished her ending fairy moment with a soft smile and playful wink, heeseung couldn’t take his eyes off her. she looked effortlessly cute, and the way she held herself had him completely mesmerized.

seconds passed, but heeseung didn’t even notice. he was still staring, lost in his thoughts about her. then, it suddenly hit him—it was his turn.

startled, his eyes widened as he quickly shifted focus to his camera, throwing on a rushed smile.

— AWARD SHOW

as eunhee stood on stage, she blew a playful kiss to the crowd. in the audience, hanni’s eyes widened in surprise, caught completely off guard by the gesture. she blinked a few times, processing what just happened, before a huge grin spread across her face.

“did she just…?” hanni muttered to herself.

she leaning toward the person next to her, which was minji, “she’s seriously too good at performing.” she whispered, shaking her head with a fond smile.

— SUNOO'S EN-LOG!

sunoo was casually vlogging his "day in the life," chatting away as he sat down for a snack break. he grabbed his phone to check something, but then, with a sudden burst of excitement, he lit up and flipped the screen toward the camera.

"wait, wait, look at this!" he said, tapping on his phone and pulling up a picture of eunhee. "isn’t she so pretty in this photo?"

he stared at the picture for a second, completely smitten, a soft giggle escaping him. "like, seriously… how is someone this pretty?" he added, still showing off the photo.

sunoo smiled to himself before tucking his phone away, casually returning to his snack as if he hadn’t just shown the world how whipped he was for her.

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

Text

Tis’ But a Scratch

Kinda brat tamer/dom! Joel x stubborn fem Reader

Summary: when you’re injured and refuse to accept Joel’s help, he decides to adjust your attitude.

W/C: 4.3k

Warnings: brat tamer joel kinda, dom!joel, smut, rough sex, blowjobs, orgasm denial. Slight dubcon. Degradation. A little bit of fluff, implied age gap, spanking, cream pie, a bit of come play. Descriptions of injuries, but not too bad! I’m super squeamish and was able to stomach it for the most part.

A/N: based on this request by @speckledemerald ! I had a lot of fun with it and did not expect it to take this turn, but you guys know me well enough to know I’m a sucker for some rough Joel smut!

Master list

As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. If you like this story, let me know! I am thankful for each and every one of you who support my work ❤️

The slam of the kitchen door behind you makes you jump, you feel your blood running cold. Joel’s an angry guy, but you’ve never been directly on the receiving end of his anger. At least, not this much anger. He is fucking pissed.

“Coulda’ gotten us fuckin’ killed. You realize that, right?” Joel spits out at you, chucking his backpack on the kitchen island sharply. You startle at the sound. His eyes are piercing and full of anger when you look at him. Hatred, even. You feel your heart drop to your stomach, fearful and full of guilt. “You never watch your fuckin’ back. Always dawdling or somethin’ else. You don’t take anything seriously, do you?”

He’s right. You know he is. “We’re fine, though. I was handling it,” You don’t know if your words are meant to be a comfort to him or yourself.

You and Joel were in an old store on patrol together, going through it to see what supplies you could scrounge up. Joel was constantly scolding you for not keeping up with him, not watching your back at all. He was sick of babysitting you, he told you. Too old for it, he said. You rolled your eyes every time he complained.

So yeah, handling it. That’s what you’re sticking with. When a raider snuck up behind you and your back was pinned to him in a bone crushing embrace, his knife pressed into your side. And all you could do was kick and scream for Joel and thrash your body. Handling it.

“Yeah?” he asks you, his tone sarcastic and full of venom. “Had it all under control, is that right?” Joel is pacing around the house, making sure there’s no other raiders or clickers. This is a known safe house, far away from any civilization.

You and Joel spent plenty of time here together, often playing cards or just talking. The last time you were holed up here together, he watched you closely. The way your eyes traced his face, how they traced every line and curve of his muscled body. You thought you hid your desire, but Joel knew better. He knew just how you craved him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you spit back, enunciating your words harshly. You’re lying, you know it and so does Joel. The truth is, if Joel hadn’t shot the raider in the head and dragged you out of there, you don’t know if you’d be alive to be having this argument right now. But you’ll never tell Joel that.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ a goddamn river into the fuckin’ floor right now,”

Your brows furrow. “What are you–” you trail off, eyes darting to your side. You didn’t think the raider actually stabbed you. You lift your shirt, and nothing. But then it catches your eye.

The adrenaline must have kept you from realizing what happened to you. The raider managed to knife the top of your left thigh pretty good, a long cut all the way across. You couldn’t tell how deep it went or what. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Blood everywhere. You know, that’s pretty fuckin’ close to your artery, genius,”

Don’t remind me, you think. Blood was never your strong suit. You press your hand into your thigh, your eyes flutter shut and your breaths become shallow when you see the liquid crimson painting your palm. Quickly, you walk to the couch in the living room and sit down with your head between your knees. You’re getting dizzy. “Just a scratch,” you mumble, to him or yourself, you don’t know.

“Get back here,” Joel barks at you. “You’re hurt. And I ain’t finished with you.”

You really don’t need Joel punishing you more than you’re already doing to yourself. You can’t take any more of his disappointed and angry looks. Any more of his words that cut so deep inside of your body.

“Fuck off,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself. Your vision is going spotty as you unbutton your jeans and push them down your legs, wincing as the rough fabric brushes over your wound. Your head is getting fuzzier, and Joel’s shouting something about other raiders being there at the store but you can barely understand him. He sounds miles away and underwater.

Joel follows you into the living room, reaching for your leg once he meets you at the dingy old sofa. It’s a dusty rose color with yellow and blue flowers. You kick his hand away and grit your teeth at the action. It fucking hurts. “Leave me alone, Joel. I’m fine,” your voice is weak and your eyes are getting glassy. Your lips lose their color. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” you pant.

“Oh, shit,” Joel whispers in realization, watching you lose yourself. He’s seen it all before. “You’re faintin’ again.”

Again.

You really didn’t handle blood well.

Once, Joel accidentally sliced his hand open trying to open an old can of fruit. You watched the entire thing and fainted right in front of him, ended up falling flat on your face. You have a scar on your chin from that night, now.

He spent the evening trying to bring you back to earth, feeding you the old fruit to get your blood sugar back up. Grumbling something about how you need to get it together if you’re gonna continue to be his patrol partner.

“No, I’m not,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You can’t admit defeat, admit that you should have been more conscious of your surroundings back at that old store, or else you wouldn’t be moments away from unconsciousness right now. You absolutely cannot let Joel win.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and crouches in front of you, trying to remove your hand from your thigh. You fight him, still. He can’t wrap his head around why you’re being so. Fucking. Stubborn.

“Stop it, Joel. I can take care of myself,”

Joel just grabs your wrist again, moving it away. You don’t have the energy to fight him off this time. “Let me see,” he mumbles. He takes in your injury, then leaves to grab his backpack. Once he’s situated, he begins his work. “Don’t need to be so proud. You’re hurt.”

He begins by pulling out a bottle of alcohol. You reach forward to take it from him, do it yourself. Deny him the satisfaction of picking up the pieces of the mess you’ve made of yourself, yet again.

He glares at you. “Knock it off,” he says gruffly. But you don’t, you just wiggle and avoid his touch. Pull away from him and push into his stomach with your foot. “Quit your squirmin’, for fuck’s sake. Too goddamn stubborn, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your cheeks go red at the pet name, your squirming comes to a halt. Joel takes notice of the effect his words have on you. “So that’s what it takes to get you to behave, hm? Call you sweetheart?”

He’s testing the waters…curious.

“No,” you lie. Yes.

There is an immediate change in the room, a tension between you and Joel in the atmosphere. It’s palpable, like you could reach out and grab it. Feel it between your fingers, even. Hot and heavy and impossible to ignore.

Joel reaches forward, covering your eyes with his hand. “Keep those eyes closed f’me, sweetheart. Don’t look. That’s it, now,” He removes his hand and your eyes are still closed, you know better than to look at the gore of your injured thigh. He continues, “Need to pull these pants down some more, alright?” You nod lazily in response, he pulls your pants down your legs and nudges your thighs apart. The cut goes further inward than either of you realized.

Joel gets to work then, dumping a bit of the alcohol over your wound. You groan and cry at the pain. It brings you back from your state of near-unconsciousness. “Fuck, Joel,”

He tries to ignore the little moans and fuck, Joel’s you let out as he disinfects your cut. “I know, I know,” he croons at you. “It’ll be over soon. Promise.”

He reaches for a rag and dumps some of his canteen’s water on it, then gently scrubs away the blood. He starts on the outside of your thigh and washes the blood off of your skin.

And then it happens. White-hot sparks of electricity deep in your core.

He reaches the inside of your thigh and accidentally brushes your center, covered only by the thin cotton of your panties. You let out a gasp in response.

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles. “Your wound is real close to yourself there. Might happen again.”

“No, it’s okay. I trust you,” you reply. And you do, but a part of you is hoping he touches you again.

“Doin’ so good f’me,” he mumbles, and his words have an intoxicating effect on you. Does he know what he’s doing to you? How he’s making you fall to pieces?

It does happen again. And again. And each time, you let out little gasps and moans. You almost wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, but you don’t mind. You wonder if he knows how aroused you’re getting with every brush of his fingertips.

He works for a while longer, then wraps up your wound with gauze. “All better now, sweetheart. I was feelin’ nice for some reason and didn’t torture ya with stitches, but I’ll check on it later and we might need to do some. Depends on how it’s holdin’ up, but I’ll be gentle if it comes to that,” He says softly, apologetically. His words are his olive branch extended to you, his apology for being too harsh with you in your injured state.

“Oh, how kind,” you bite back. And just like that, your feistiness has returned, you’re right back to being your stubborn and sarcastic self just like before. And you don’t really know why you build your walls back up, but you do. You’re not gonna take any pity from him. His words echo in your mind. Too proud. “I would’ve been fine without all your help, you know. And I won’t need any when we get back, so drop it.”

Joel’s soft gaze leaves and is replaced by another fiery look of offense. “Oh, fuck you. Jesus, would it kill you to say thanks?”

“Fuck you!” you spit. Joel blinks when your saliva hits his face, he wipes it from his cheek, then examines it on his palm. Slowly, he meets your eyes, his gaze dark and lustful. The tension in the air strengthens, you feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. You didn’t mean to spit on him, but you’re gonna stand your ground and not take any of his shit.

Joel rises to his feet, so big and radiating power and masculinity above you. “You wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice is low and dark, lacking any semblance of amusement.

“I, fu-” you stutter out. Your confidence is beginning to dwindle as you choke out, “Don’t need your fucking help. Don’t need to be a part of your fucking savior complex.”

Joel laughs dryly. You’ve really pissed him off now, you can see the pure hatred in his eyes. They’re icy cold, piercing right through you. “You’d better swallow your pride before I shove it down your throat myself, sweetheart. Sick of this attitude, you fuckin’ brat,”

“Make me,” you retort, challenging him. “How’re you gonna do that?”

You wonder just how far he’ll push you. What boundaries he’s gonna test…

“I don’t think you wanna find out, sweetheart. Not gonna be nice about it, I promise you that,”

“Big surprise,” you snarl, “There’s not one nice bone in your body. You’re a fucking ass–”

“Gonna start by fuckin’ that pretty mouth of yours, teach you a lesson,” he interrupts you. His voice is cool and collected, you watch his hands make their way to his front, he palms his growing erection. He eyes you questioningly for a moment, using them to ask you sincerely if this is okay. If it’s too much. You nod, understanding his silent question. He nods back.

You open your mouth to speak, but Joel wastes no time shutting you up. “You suck my dick like a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider makin’ you come. But I’m not feelin’ very generous yet,”

“What are you talking–” you trail off, watching Joel unbuckle his belt with his swift and deftly moving hands.

“You’re drippin’ for me, darlin’. Didn’t think I noticed? Could practically taste it,”

Your body betrays you and you let out a whimper at the thought of Joel’s tongue in your pussy. How he’d explore your folds with the firm and wet muscle. Joel chuckles in amusement, freeing his cock from the constraint of his jeans. He takes one imposing step in front of you, his thick and hard cock is held loosely between his thumb and his pointer and middle fingers.

“Not so tough now, hm? Not when your pleasure’s on the table, I see. Selfish fuckin’ brat,”

“Joel,” you moan. He shuts you up by shoving his cock in your mouth in one swift motion, your lips part around the soft and smooth flesh of his tip. He’s slow at first, making sure you can take it. When he’s satisfied with your readiness, he shoves it as far down your throat as you can comfortably take.

“Fuck, that’s all you needed. God, sweetheart. You’re so much nicer with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” he groans, his hands finding your scalp. He tangles his fingers through your hair and pulls gently, when you moan he tugs your hair roughly.

You hum in response, wrapping your hands around his upper thighs and squeezing his ass. He pushes them away with force. “You just don’t get it do you, you poor dumb thing? You take what I give you now, girl. Don’t be greedy,”

His words send pangs of desire through your body, you’ve never been so aroused in your life. His cock is hard and heavy on your tongue, and with each powerful thrust of his hips your nose nudges that tuft of dark hair surrounding his member.

“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. Your eyes are blown wide, tears pricking the corners. There’s spit dribbling down your chin and you look completely fucking ruined.

The dull ache between your thighs grows stronger, and ever so subtly move your hand to your center. Or so you think. Just before you can press your fingers to your clit, Joel pulls his dick from your mouth and grabs your wrist in a vice grip.

“God, you just don’t fucking learn, do you? I told you to suck my dick like a good girl,”

“I did, Joel,” you whine in protest. You move your other hand to your center in hopes of relieving the pressure, but he grabs that one too.

“God, you’re dumb. No, you didn’t. You didn’t listen, didn’t take what I was givin’,” he yanks you up by your wrists, drags you to the arm of the couch and shoves you. Hard. “So I’m gonna take what I want from ya now. And you can cry and beg as much as you want, and I still won’t let you come. ‘Cause you can’t follow simple directions.”

Your stomach drops, you realize just how serious he is. He’s gonna use you and toss you aside, leave you crying for release. “Joel,” you cry. He’s breaking you down.

“No point in cryin’ now. Just shut your mouth like a good girl and take my cock,”

You move to face him, but he turns you back in place. “Bend over,” he demands.

When you don’t jump at his command, he shoves you again, forcing your chest down into the arm of the couch. He roughly tugs down the fabric of your panties, and then you feel the sting of his big hand striking your ass, red hot pain spreading over your cheeks. “Fuck,” you yelp in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Shut up,” he tells you sternly, massaging the stinging flesh of your ass. It’s a gentle reminder he’s still here. “God, you’re stupid. Poor thing. How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?”

You let out a moan in protest and he smacks your ass again. “Spread your legs. No back talking, now. Be a good girl and open wide for me. That’s it,” he croons as you shuffle your feet apart.

He drags his cock through your folds, purposely stopping just before your clit, denying you any sort of relief. He slips the tip of his cock in your pussy, then without warning, pulls you onto his cock. Hard.

You cry out and he shushes you, reminding you to keep quiet. He repeats the motion again and you bite your lip to keep your noises suppressed.

He fucks you with both hands on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin, surely decorating you with bruises. The room is filled with the noises of his heavy breathing and skin slapping skin, as well as the wet squelching of your pussy.

“Fu-” you start, moving a hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s it,” he breathes in approval. “Quiet.”

You bite back moans, feeling your stomach tighten. You’re getting close, just need a bit more.

His cock begins to pulse inside of you, his once calculated thrusts now sloppy and frenzied. “Feel that?” He asks. “Gettin’ close, now. Almost over, sweetheart. See what this pussy’s doin’ to me?”

You can’t help the wail that falls from your lips. You’re in agony, you need to come. And after this, you don’t know if you’ll be able to relieve yourself. Your fingers will never compare to his cock, you’ll never be able to match the pace or power with which he fucks you.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” He taunts you. “Breakin’ the rules again, you know. Do I need to remind you how good girls act?” He rubs a hand over your ass in warning, tapping his fingers on the swollen and still stinging flesh.

You shake your head no. It’s painful, the way he’s punching into that sweet spot deep inside you. So close yet so far from your orgasm.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I want you to nod your head yes or shake your head no, got it? Still don’t want you makin’ any noise,”

You nod in anticipation of what he’s going to ask of you. He’s still fucking you at a punishing pace.

“Been thinkin’ that you’d look real pretty comin’ all over my cock. Don’t you think?”

You nod again.

“Unfortunately, baby, you’re not allowed to. Which is a goddamn shame, of course,” he mumbles, his thrusts coming to a slowed pace.

He continues, “I was thinking if you said the magic words, I might make it all better for you,”

You whimper at the prospect of release, then quickly swallow your moans.

“You know those words, right baby? Please, thank you. Manners,”

You nod again, pushing your ass back into his groin. He swats at you with his hand, but not terribly hard. Just a gentle warning.

“Maybe all of this could have been avoided if you said ‘thank you Joel’. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this position, practically beggin’ me to let you come,”

You nod in response, not willing to argue any longer. “Say thank you for my cock down your throat. Did you a favor, anyway. God knows you needed to shut up,”

“Joel, fuck. I need to come,” you rasp out, breaking his rule.

“Say thank you, sweetheart. Come on now, mind your manners,” God, how sexy and low his voice is.

You don’t thank him. Not yet. You won’t thank him, not until he breaks down every ounce of fight left in you.

He slaps your ass once more, then moves his hand to your clit, gingerly rubbing light circles into the sensitive bud. Teasing you. “Thank you, Joel,” he instructs you to say. “Thank you for your cock.”

You ignore him still.

He pulls you off his cock, whips you around to face him and looks deep into your eyes, notching the tip of his cock in your pussy once more. He begins pushing all the way in. “Say it.” He says in a taunting tone, elongating his words. His thumb is on your clit again, and he’s thrusting in and out of you slowly. “I’m givin’ you an out here. Just say those words f’me.”

You groan in frustration. Are you really going to give in?

“Come on, sweetheart. Know you need it. Look at the fucking mess you’re makin’, needy thing. Soakin’ my cock,”

And there it is again, that sickeningly sweet pet name he so affectionately calls you. Fuck it, you decide.

“Thank you,” you whisper, finally. Repeating what he wanted to hear you say for him.

“For what?”

The words kind of just slip out of your mouth, “For taking care of me,” you admit.

Joel’s movements falter, and he looks at you with a puzzled expression. It’s not at all what he thought you were going to say, what he wanted you to say, but nonetheless he’s pleased that he’s managed to fuck away some of your pride. He just smirks knowingly, pulls you in close and kisses you.

It’s sweet and slow, he’s taking his time massaging your tongue with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he murmurs against your lips, fucking you again. He’s rubbing concentrated circles into your clit and continues. “Not so hard, hm? Just listen to me and let me take care of ya. However I want.”

You nod feverishly and pull yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His skin is hot and sweaty under your fingertips, the circles he’s tracing into your clit have your stomach tightening and your face contouring in pleasure. You’re right there, he can feel it. He’s not far behind.

“You earned it, baby. Let go now,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear.

And with that, you come harder than you ever have. His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, he keeps fucking you through it. “Joel,” you moan. “Oh, fuck. I’m there, I’m there.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. Ride it out with me. I’m right there with ya,” he assures you, his thrusts becoming frenzied as he chases his own orgasm. His neck and cheeks are flushed red, and in mere moments, he’s pulsing inside you, spurting hot and thick ropes of his seed that paint your insides. It’s a delicious feeling, one you’ve been craving for a while now.

He’s panting on top of you, his forehead pressed to your own, slick with sweat and sticky hair. You’re still holding onto him for dear life, catching your breath. He pulls out of you slowly, watching the mixture of your come drip on to the rosy couch. He pushes it back inside your worn pussy with his fingers, then brings them to his lips and licks them clean.

You giggle, your head dropping to his shoulder. He holds you like that for a moment, letting you steady yourself.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he speaks softly. “Didn’t mean to get out of hand. You okay? How’s your thigh?” His voice is full of concern, his hands on either side of your face. His eyes are sparkly and the darkest brown, the crease between his brows a little more prominent than usual. “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it,” you admit sheepishly, assuring him that everything is okay. You’re slightly embarrassed. Who knew you were such a freak? “My thigh is…I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a scratch.”

He says your name sternly, shooting you a warning look. “Let me see it. Can’t trust you,”

“Fine,” you concede, biting back a grin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered by his concern, the way he’s fawning over you.

He bends down in front of you, gently pulling back the gauze. Your wound is a little irritated in the rigorous fucking you and Joel participated in, but was mostly okay. He decides to clean it and wrap it again in new gauze, telling you he’s not wanting to risk infection. “So,” he starts undressing your wound. “Gonna listen to me from now on, right?

You nod your head. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off, “I know you didn’t. Just need you to be careful, okay? Need you to listen to me. I’m lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,”

You wince in pain when he dumps more alcohol on your wound. “I just…I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I know you can. I know,” he says. Part of him wants to argue more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he silently works, wondering why you buck him on this, why you refuse to ask for help or admit you may need it. Whether it be on patrol or when you’re hurt, or fainting in front of him because you can’t handle a bit of blood. Thank god you’re never on nursing duty at the infirmary. He won’t press you anymore, though.

You share a moment of silence together, both unsure of what to say. What does this mean for your relationship in the future? Joel finishes wrapping your wound, and helps you stand up on shaky legs. He dresses himself, then tosses you your clothing. When he reaches for your pants, his hand falls through the massive hole on the thigh from where the raider knifed you

“Just a scratch, my ass” he mumbles, you hear the smirk in his voice. “Just a flesh wound, right?”

You smile as he tosses you the tattered jeans. “Yup. Just a flesh wound,” you say as you dress yourself again.

Joel leads you to the door, silently letting you know it’s time to get back to Jackson.

“You don’t even understand that reference,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Jesus, kid.”

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #dom!joel miller #brat tamer!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal #tlou

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taasgirl · 7 months

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say something pt 1.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

"I told you I can't go out." Salma hadn't stopped bothering me about some party with the men's team. I had so much school to catch up on.

"Come on don't be a party pooper. You study every night and train every day." I spun my chair to face my laptop. "Seriously Y/N, it's only one night." Rolling my eyes, I continued writing my paper.

I had been at university for the past year or so, while simultaneously playing football. For Barcelona. I know, pinch me moment. But I was so determined to graduate high school, and get a degree. I wasn't going to let anything stop me.

Even if it was my dream profession.

The coaches and staff at Barcelona were very understanding, however they weren't too happy when I had to leave training early for lectures.

But I guess I make up for it, I'm the league's top goal scorer, currently on 21 in 9 games. A feat slightly unbelievable to my lecturers and classmates - they think it's insane that someone 'famous' would even bother with university, but I love journalism. Something about writing is so me. Especially topics that I love.

"Don't be a bum Y/N." Truth is, I really wanted to go, but I had already agreed to help one of my classmates with some work.

"I'm supposed to be studying with Alex." Salma instantly spun me around. "The hot one?" I didn't respond.

Alex and I had our fair share of flirty kisses and almost intimate moments, with Salma being our first and only 'fan'. Seriously her words not mine.

"Well bring him then. You two should loosen up. Literally everyone will be bringing a plus one." Now that would actually be a good idea, but he seemed like he really needed my help, and lucky for me, he didn't want to bother me so it would all be through facetime. I could study in the comfort of my bed, in my pyjamas.

"Sorry Sal, you have fun but I'm staying back." She scoffed, this happened a lot, she'd invite me, I'd reject, and then say, "You look really hot though."

"Wait so what did you write about?" I would be lying if I said this wasn't awkward. We had hooked up a few times, and yet each time we spoke to each other it was just as awkward as the last. The term 'friends with benefits' was definitely not applicable to us.

"Umm, mine's just about some of my teammates. You know, sports injuries and that sort of stuff." He smiled when I spoke.

"It's so cool knowing you." Awkward silence soon followed. "Hey uh, I'd really like to take you out. To dinner maybe? You know, when you're not busy being a professional and all that." Well I can't really reject the guy who's made me orgasm multiple times.

"Yeah sure. I'm sure we could go out after class one day." Yeah I was not going to go out with him.

After a few hours of studying with Alex I got a call from Salma. "Hey Alex, I'm getting a call, I'll message you later." Hanging up our facetime, answered Salma's call.

"How's hot boy? Have you fucked yet." She was slurring her words. Definitely off her face drunk. "Hey is this Y/N?" I replied to the voice, one of a man's. "Listen we need you to come pick Salma up, she's drunk." The boy on the other side of the phone said it almost annoyed.

"Who is this?" Immediately he replied, "Pedri. Now can you hurry? I'm sending over the address." The notification popped up on my phone, she was at a club downtown.

"I can't." Pedri didn't speak. I knew him from our minimal media interactions, but other than that, he had a reputation as a dickhead fuck boy. "What do you mean you can't?" Because I was so preoccupied with school and work, I never had the time to get my license.

"I can't drive, I don't have a license." I could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"Are you serious? How do you expect her to get home?" He was clearly pissed off. "Maybe be a gentleman and drive her home?" He groaned, obviously unwilling to do so.

"Don't put her in a cab. Drive her home, here I'm sending you the address." As soon as he received my message through Sal's phone he hung up. What a dickhead.

After about fifteen minutes, I heard loud banging at my door. Rushing over, Salma practically fell in my arms. "Y/N you won't believe the night I had." She needed to sleep, we needed to be at training by 6 tomorrow for fitness testing. I have no idea why she'd pick tonight as the time to get wasted.

"Thank you Pedri, I'll see you tomorrow." As I went to shut the door, he stuck his foot in, pushing the door wide.

"So I leave a party with beautiful women to drop your lightweight friend off, and you don't even offer me a glass of water?" His tone was condescending, as he followed me through our apartment.

"Yeah well, sorry for ruining your night." As I helped Salma into her bed, he leaned on her doorframe. "You know usually when I take a girl home it doesn't end like this." He smiled, that kind of dickhead-fuckboy smile. I didn't respond, walking under his arm as I made my way to the front door. I opened my wallet and handed him €10. "For the petrol, now please leave." I pushed the money against his chest as he scoffed. "I don't need your money." He looked me up and down. "See you later Y/N."

Salma and I successfully made our way to the Barcelona grounds, a round of water and plenty of bread slowly sobered her up.

"So how was your date with sexy classmate." I smacked her lightly. "Awkward as fuck. You'd think that someone who's seen me naked plenty of times would know how to talk to me, but I guess not." We walked past the front desk. "Morning. And it wasn't a date, just a study session."

Making our way to the changerooms, I made eye contact with a certain somebody. That certain somebody came over to us. "What do you want?" He looked at me puzzled, in a dismissive way. "Oh I'm not here to talk to you." He diverted his gaze to Salma. "You were quite the partier last night." She smiled at him, I have no idea how.

"We gotta go. Bye Pedri." I pulled Salma away from him. "You're literally gay stop making eyes at him." She looked at me as we sped walked through the hallway. "Doesn't mean a girl can't look." I rolled my eyes. I can't take this girl seriously sometimes.

By the time we had made it out to the field, everyone could tell that Sal was hungover. She wasn't hitting anywhere near her top speed and was very slow at our reaction training games.

Jonatan pulled her aside, and soon enough, she was escorted inside by our assistant coach. "Bring it in girls." I stood next to Lucy as Jonatan began a speech.

"It has come to my attention that there was a party last night." The girls began looking around at each other. "And I understand that you are young and want to have fun, but when alcohol or even drugs are involved, it becomes a problem for the club." Lucy looked down at me.

"I need you to all be aware of what you're doing. You are professional footballers, and now is not the time to be partying let alone drinking." The girls started to whisper to each other.

"And I especially need you to look after the kids here. They're young and vulnerable. If you see them in a less than ideal situation, you need to help them out." Jonatan didn't raise his voice, one of the reasons why he has been my favourite coach. "Now get back out there."

Training was tense, and by the time we had arrived inside Salma was lying on one of the physio beds fast asleep. "Sal are you alright?" She groaned, covering her face. "Lucy said she'd drive you home, but I really need to get to class." I gave her a quick hug before I headed for the showers and prepared myself before class.

It's hard being a student-athlete, or an athlete-student depending on how you look at it. As I left the building I saw Gavi standing outside.

"Hey Pablo." He turned around, immediately hugging me. Gavi was my first friend here in Barca when I joined the academy, and although we haven't kept in contact as much, I still consider him one of my best friends.

"Looking good Y/N. You off to school?" I nodded, signalling to my laptop bag clutched in my hand. "You're seriously the hardest worker I know." After a short conversation a car pulled up to the kerb. A short honk alerted us.

"Get in Gavi. Y/N." Hey, at least he didn't dismiss me. "Can Y/N come, we just need to drop her off at the uni. It's down the road." Before I could reject Gavi's idea, Pedri spoke up. "Yeah no. Come Pablo." Gavi didn't get in the car.

"Seriously Pepi, let her come with us. It'll be a short trip." Soon enough, Pedri agreed, unlocking the back door for me.

Pedri didn't speak the entire ride, and even though it was short, I felt completely unwelcomed. By the time we had arrived on campus, Pedri drove right to the communications building. I thanked him, and stepped out of the car.

As I began to walk away from the car a familiar voice called out to me. "Y/N wait up!" Alex ran up to me, and immediately pulled me in for a hug. I could feel Pedri and Gavi's eyes on me, the car hadn't moved.

"Thanks for the help last night." We walked into the building together and found our seats.

After a boring three hour lecture, I quickly made my way down to the exit. "Y/N wait up." I spun around, facing Alex. "Is now an alright time to ask you to lunch?" I could help but blush. Now normally I would've politely declined, but I am so unbelievably hungry, so I agreed.

"As long as you're driving I'm up." He smiled and brought me to his car.

"I told you that class boy was your guy!" Sal yelled at me after being dropped home by Alex. "When you aren't preoccupied by the dick-"

"Yuck don't say that Sal!"

"It's true, see he's a good guy. Hot too."

I pushed a pillow to her face. She was really too much sometimes. We were sat on the couch, relaxing until it was time to sleep. She was telling me about this incredible girl from last night when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and answered it. To my surprise Pedri was standing there.

"Uh, um you left this in my car." He handed me over an unfamiliar plastic bag, but after a quick look inside, I could tell that it was my sports bra and socks from training.

"Oh yeah, um thanks." We stood there awkwardly in the frame of the door until Salma came up. "Left them in his car huh?"

Pedri immediately tried to speak but his mumbles were cut off by Salma. "Leaving your clothes in one guys car and then going out with a different guy the same day is truly boss energy." Pedri looked at me concerned.

"He and Gavi drove me to class ok, so let's get inside. Thank you Pedri, I really appre-" "Come in Pepi! Take a seat." Salma cut me off and ushered him in. Looking down at me, he made his way to my seat on the couch.

"You know what guys, I'm actually gonna head to bed." Salma pouted at me. "Come on, it's only for a few minutes." I shook my head and went into my room, grabbing my clothes so I could take a quick shower.

By the time I finished my shower, I could still hear Pedri and Salma talking. I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way to my room. That was of course, until I bumped into him.

"Maybe look where you're going next time." He said to me, a look of disgust plastered on his face. "Get the fuck out of my house." He laughed.

"Yeah cause this two room apartment is a house. You seriously need to get a life." I pushed past him, opening my door. "Oh and maybe you should try and be welcoming for once. God knows it'll do you a world of good." I slammed the door after hearing his comment. I have no idea why I even gave him the time of day.

He's such a piece of shit. I'm literally a university student who also happens to be a footballer - a women's one at that. I have no choice but to live in a shitty apartment with my teammate. I don't have the type of money he has.

pls let me know if you like this! i'll update as often as possible and pls give me some requests! i'll write about anyone (m+f)!! thank you!

part two!

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itadorey · 11 months

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𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — gojo satoru

pairing: vampire!gojo x vampire hunter!reader summary: you just want to enjoy your halloween night, but vampire hunting always gets in the way. this night might be different though. genre: strangers to ???, suggestive notes: vampire gojo is fun, slight blood, suggestive but no smut wc: ~1.4k

you blink rapidly as you step through the doorway, trying to adjust to the flashing lights around you.

spending your halloween at a frat party would usually be your top choice, but when you’re there on a mission from the higher ups, you can’t exactly enjoy it. you sigh to yourself as you push past a group of people, nodding faintly when you recognize one from your history class. you take a deep breath when you finally make it to the kitchen, making a beeline towards the drinks and grabbing a can of soda before leaning against the fridge.

you’re lost in thought, wondering how you’re even going to find your target (gojo satoru, which had been spoken out loud with disgust) when you didn’t even want the mission in the first place, when you’re interrupted by a low voice.

“nice costume.”

“huh?” you ask in response, looking over to see a tall figure next to you.

“nice costume.” he repeats, a grin on his face as he faces you. you raise an eyebrow when you notice his sunglasses, barely catch a glimpse of blue eyes as he looks you over. you feel yourself flush under his gaze, his handsome face focused only on you as he takes a sip of his drink. “it’s cute. vampire right?”

“yeah,” you respond quietly, your lips twitching in amusement as you look down at your outfit. you had chosen your costume on purpose, intentionally pissing off the higher ups when you had arrived to receive your assignment. the fake fangs in your mouth had earned you a lot of disapproving looks, and you had merely swished your tacky cape around you as you left, giving them a dramatic wave and toothy smile.

there’s a brief silence as you study the guy next to you, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing a wig or if he dyed his hair white. you nod at him when you notice his fangs, letting out a small laugh that earns you a confused expression.

“nice fangs,” you comment, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. “looks like we’re matching.”

you fidget in place as the guy stares at you for a moment, your cheeks growing warmer when you realize that he happens to be one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen. you resist the urge to slap your forehead, embarrassed at the fact that you had killed the conversation between the two of you so quickly.

you’re ready to hightail it out of the kitchen, reminding yourself that you’re technically there on an assignment and not to flirt with cute boys, when he lets out a giggle.

“i guess we are, huh?” he asks rhetorically, his eyes shining with mirth as he puts his drink down behind him. he takes a step closer to you, pausing slightly before reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “listen, if i were to hypothetically ask you for a dance, what would you say?”

“hypothetically?” you ask, earning a firm nod from him. you hum to yourself, putting your drink down as well before crossing your arms. “i would say yes. hypothetically, of course.”

the guy nods seriously before chuckling lightly and holding out his hand. “well then, can i take you out for a dance?”

there’s a brief moment of hesitation as you look at him, wondering if you should say yes or no. you remind yourself that there’s urgent matters you need to take care of, but you find yourself pushing those thoughts aside as you slip your hand into his and let him lead you onto the dance floor.

you catch him turning to glance at you every few seconds, his lips pulled into a pretty smile whenever he happens to meet your gaze. the two of you come to a stop once he decides you’re far enough into the crowd, and he wastes no time in turning you around, chest pressed to your back as he sways in time to the music.

his hands are cool as they grab onto your hips, and you don’t hesitate to arch your back a little, your ass grinding into him as he lets out a low groan. you can feel one of his hands leave your hip, reaching up to brush your hair out of the way and giving him access to to press a soft, fluttery kiss to your neck.

“you’re playing a dangerous game right now,” he murmurs against your skin, causing you to send him a sly grin as you turn around in his hold. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you closer and wrap his arms around you in return to keep you in place.

“am i?” you ask coyly, receiving a nod in return. you throw your head back and laugh, gasping lightly when he leans in to nip at your throat, his teeth lightly scraping your skin before he presses another kiss to the sensitive spot underneath your jaw.

“mhm,” he hums in return, eyes glinting in the dim lights as he catches your gaze. “hypothetically, if i were to ask you if you wanted to get out of here, what would you say?”

you rolls your eyes half-heartedly, not even giving him a response before you’re grabbing his hand and tugging him upstairs. you’ve barely managed to get past the door of an empty bedroom before his hands are all over you, grabbing at your hips and ass as he trails kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. you push him towards the bed, grinning slightly when he lets himself fall onto the mattress and lean up against the bedframe.

your cape flutters about as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you remove his sunglasses and capture his lips in a kiss. the two of you laugh when your fangs bumps against his teeth, and you lean back slightly when he grabs your chin.

“ow!” he whines dramatically as he lets go of your face. you freeze when his thumb brushes against your lips, and you automatically part them, allowing him to gently remove the fake fangs with a sharp grin at your actions. “lets get rid of those. wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

you’re not given the chance to respond before he pulls you into him, lips pressed against yours once more as his hands grip your waist. you can feel him growing hard underneath you, his hands gently guiding your hips back and forth as they knead soft circles into your skin. you follow his directions eagerly, grinding down on him a little harder as you open your mouth to deepen the kiss.

there’s a small whine that comes from him when your tongues meet, and it only spurs you on, encouraging you to tangle your hands in his hair and tug. his hands slip under your shirt, and you find yourself pulling back slightly, brought back to reality by the coolness of his hands.

“w-wait,” you pant, barely getting the word out between the kisses you exchange. you feel him nip at your bottom lip, earning a cry from you when you feel him break the thin skin. he wastes no time in licking up the blood from the small cut, bright eyes half lidded as he looks up at you.

“what is it?” he asks, continuing to press kisses to the corner of your lip before trailing kisses down the column of your throat. “changing your mind?”

“n-no!” you gasp, back arching when he bucks his hips up against you. “i just- ah! i just didn’t catch your name.”

“my name?” he asks, nose nudging against the crook of your neck as he buries his face into it. you can feel him sucking a dark bruise into your skin, and you moan softly at the feeling. “my name is gojo satoru.”

your eyes widen at his words, and you pull back even more to see him grinning at you, fangs that you’re no longer sure are fake glinting in the dim light. his pupil are blown with lust, but you can still see a hint of the bright blue of his irises as he speaks once more.

“and you’re the pretty, little vampire hunter that was sent to kill me.”

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo imagine #gojou x reader #gojou imagine #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff

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rimunagenius · 4 months

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Hi, I saw your writing for the famous Popstar x Caitlin Clark I was wondering if you could do her dating an actress version?

REMINDER THAT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!! UNTIL I GET A HANDLE ON THE MANY REQUESTS I HAVENT GOTTEN TO!! IM SO GRATEFUL YOU LOVE MY WRITING, THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING!! *this is also not proofread*

hi anon!! i love this idea! these are so much fun to write, so ofc!! sorry it took so long!! 💕

(HC) Caitlin Clark x actress!reader

Caitlin first noticed you when your hit debut movie came out in your sophomore year of college, 13 going on 30 (pretend reader is jennifer garner)

You made it big, still attending louisville to finish out school, you had noticed Caitlin Clark

You played basketball, a walk on your freshman year, where you played with emily engstler, one of your closest friends and that’s why you noticed caitlin

You kept up with basketball after you dropped it for acting and after emily graduated, so you were exposed to the coverage caitlin clark was getting

you had the biggest crush on her

it started off as a small attraction because of the love for the game you both shared and just because her ambition and confidence was just so attractive you couldn’t stop watching

you attended multiple games of hers after that

if you were close on a shoot whether it was modeling to promote a movie or press tours or just shooting location, you were there

you even took time off to fly out to iowa

she saw you more when you started to appear with jason sudeikis, your costar

you eventually ended up on the court with them, taking pictures with him and the team

you took that as your moment to tell Caitlin how big of a fan you were, and how you played at Louisville

you two hit it OFF

that night you posted a boomerang of you swinging your fuzzy sock clad feet, with a replay of the mystics game that night, with the caption “pov: my celebrity crush followed me back (i still love you @/em_engstler )”

for months you two hyped eachother up on your stories “omg @/youruser’s movie is so good!!” or “growing the game one clark at a time”

you both were getting bolder, your stories soon started to look like a caitlin clark fan page

that night at the game, you got Kate, Gabbie, Jada, and Caitlin’s phone numbers, so like friends do, you guys hung out all the time

Whenever you had free time from shooting, you were with them, your schedules somehow always aligning

people didn’t start to suspect a thing until you were getting photos taken by paparazzi more frequently, the pictures being you and Caitlin alone

the group hangouts happened whenever, but you and caitlin hangouts get your mind out of the gutter started to happen more frequently

it started off with paparazzi spotting you two laughing, making the best candid pics

and then you were spotted at more iowa games, home or away

and then she started to go to events with you

the other girls tagged alone to some, Caitlin being your main date

Caitlin had fallen hard

her teammates knew when you guys created a group chat and caitlin was a lot more flirtatious than the average behavior

heart emojis and very endearing compliments that friends don’t make about other friends

so that’s why when you invited her to your The Last of Us premiere, she had her lands lingering on the small of your back

standing so close to be just friends

you following along

it could be defendable if you two weren’t caught seriously get your mind out of the gutter

you two were a little drunk, stumbling infront of your hotel room, where you happened to be sharing, you couldn’t find the key in your purse

you fumbled around, the alcohol in your system making your center of gravity shift

unbalanced, you stumble a little, caitlin’s hands on your waist catching you

you looked up, your faces inches apart, and that when she leaned in and kissed you

it was so perfect until you heard a camera click, and a bright light past your closed eyelids

someone spotted you and took a picture of the whole ordeal

that’s when you two hurried up and grabbed the key, letting yourselves into the room

it only took two hours for your phones to be pinging with messages from the girls and friends and family asking about the articles and leaks

you two were relived but nervous at the amount of attention you two had been getting so quickly…

your and actress and she’s a college basketball player…how would people react or agree with this

you couldn’t care less, and apparently caitlin’s didn’t either bc she pushed you back on to the bed and just kissed you like her life depended on it

you two didn’t have to hide

maybe there’s perks in being the best collegiate player in the world…

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solaarbeeam · 3 months

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electric touch - kaminari denki x black reader

warnings: none, reader is portrayed as darkskin, usage of Y/N

a/n: guys he’s my favorite (besides shoto) soo here’s a special fic in his honor <33, i lowkey don’t like this but im trying to discipline myself when it comes to writing.

When Kaminari Denki made it to UA, he had a plan to become a heartthrob hero, not unlike Hawks.

His plan was completely thrown off the second he laid his eyes on you.

Rich and deep chocolate skin, brown eyes that nearly made it look black, and an all-white smile with the cutest tooth gems dotting your grin.

He was done for the second he walked in the room. He should’ve known then, but he didn’t.

He’d flirted with a lot of the girls in the class action once they had gotten to after the Sports Festival, but most just took it as jokes or rejected him, to which he calmly bowed out. No need to be an asshole about it, right?

As Jirou made fun of his quirk again, he laid his eyes on you once more. You were scribbling in your notebook, humming to the tune of what he assumed was a Bryson Tiller song, completely in your own little world.

He lost all sorts of common sense when it came to you. How couldn’t he, when you sat at your desk looking like you were the one that hung the moon in the sky?

“Hey, Y/N!”

Okay, he’d gotten your attention, what now? Oh lord, he’s an idiot. How is he supposed to do this? Your tooth gems catch the sunlight, making them gleam in the classroom, and he immediately hooks his eyes on them instead, so as to not come off as rude or creepy.

“Hey Kaminari, what’s up?” Oh my god he could stare at that smile for days. The coils of your hair makes him stare at them rather than look you in the eyes.

He holds his hand out. He mentally slaps himself stupid, because what was he thinking, just holding his hand out like that? Jirou could make fun of him for this all she wants and he wont even blame her, because what the hell?

He really loses all sense of self when he sees a pretty person, especially someone has gorgeous as you.

In response, you put your hand in his and marveled at how warm they were.

Three seconds pass by. Kaminari dies mentally.

He had just electrocuted Y/N L/N, the most beautiful person in existence, all because he can’t control himself or his quirk.

At lunch, he profusely apologizes to you, one because he knows your hair is important to you and if his quirk actually did anything bad to your hair, he’d put himself six feet under before you could.

“You’re honestly lucky my quirk prevents damage, but in all seriousness, it’s cool Kaminari. It was honestly kind of cute seeing you trip out like that.”

You have no idea what you’ve done, Cute? Cute?!?? You officially have Kaminari Denki wrapped around your finger.

They have the Training Camp. He’s stuck with Mr Aizawa for remedials, because he’s a dumbass and you can do no wrong. The villains attack, and you’re apart of the main fight. Your quirk, called Bounce Back, allows you to take damage, store the impact, and push it back out to deliver it back to the opponent. It was a perfect offensive quirk.

Until you, Bakugou, and Jirou get kidnapped by the league. You, because you were fighting Toga with Uraraka and Tsu, Bakugou for conversion reasons, and Jirou because of her scouting abilities and super hearing.

He goes with the team to get you back. He’d never forgive himself if he had the opportunity to do something and he didn’t.

Once they got the three of them out, he ran up to hug you, not caring who looked or who saw.

You hugged him back, just as eagerly and emotion full as he did. He felt whole, he felt complete again, and the feeling of you hugging him back with just as much warmth and intensity gives him hope.

They get dorms. It makes his crush a lot harder on him. For once, Jirou doesn’t laugh and actually helps him.

It was a regular night, a relatively warm one since summer had started. He knocked on your door, sparks literally flying from the tips of his fingers.

‘Do not electrocute them, this’ll be all for nothing if you can’t get it together.’

You open the door, and once he steps in, he’s hit by the smell of cocoa butter and hair products that smell distinctly like you.

“Okay so, Kami, what can I do for you?” You’re taking your hair out, as he can see, with half of your head still in mini-twists.

“Call me Denki?”

“Pffft-“ He feels blood rush to the tips of his ears. He’s already fucked up and he hasn’t even started the segway.

“‘Kay then, Denki, whatcha need?” He’s going to die. He will die here happily here.

You notice his hands are sparking. You coat your hands in a pastel yellow, a tell tale sign of your quirk, and you take the risky move of grabbing his hands.

He practically dies right then and there. You laugh out loud, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“You’re cute, yknow that Denki?”

The mention of his name brings him back to the present. He decides to just go for it instead of doing the whole plan he made with Jirou.

“Y/N, will you be my partner?”

“‘Course I will, I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

It seems that at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, you’re the one with the electric touch, and not him.

#[ 🌙 ] solar’s muses #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x black reader #mha x black reader #mha x black!reader

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bratphilia · 10 months

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── ★ ˙ strawberry charm ̟ !!

note ✧.*‎ hello hello hello welcome to scream meets fnaf. randomly got this idea after rewatching scream, like, why don't i combine one both franchises in the only way i know how? william afton as ghostface coming into your house and fucking the shit out of you!! and here we are. i spent a lot more time on this than i usually do writing fics so i seriously hope ppl enjoy it. i'm also on break starting today so i'll be pumping out more content from now on going into the new year!

pairing ✧.*‎‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ college au and scream au, reader is college aged, william is her robotics professor, ghostface!william afton, reader is girly, vibrators, multiple orgasms, perversion, mentions of stalking, descriptions of gore, choking, consensual non consent, break-in, approximately one lick to the pussy, rough sex, dumbification, glove kink, slapping, slight daddy kink, cockwarming

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @dilfity @kissingrhi @iikyutee @ghoulsgraveyard @cemeteryry @gh0stsp1d3r

synopsis ✧.*‎ a man calls you up wondering what your favorite scary movie is.

you hold back a deep sigh at the low-quality horror movie being showed on the big screen in front of you. no, it's not the most important thing in the world, to see something "cinematically excellent" every time you go to the theater, but shit, wouldn't that be nice? anyways, that's not what you're here for. you're here for a date with this guy in your robotics class, specifically.

he's handsy, but so are you. one arm is slung around your shoulder, you're cuddled against his chest, knees drawn upwards, and his other hand coming around to rub circles on your thigh. yes, it's your first date together, after weeks of study "dates." yes, you were cuddling, very heavy emphasis on pda. what about it? it made up for this movie being fucking terrible, so why not.

you have to laugh. nico, your date, had promised chills and shivers up your spine and hoped for your head pushed into his shoulder at the scary parts of the movie. rotten luck for him. you want to laugh at that. and you accidentally snicker, causing him to look towards you. "what?"

"oh, nothing," you say, nodding back towards the movie.

he says nothing, thank god.

finally, there's a good part of the movie. the main character, a ditzy blonde with big tits is tied to a tree while the film's slasher rips her boyfriend's head from his body with a chainsaw. your muscles clench, not in fear, but in delight. you've always been a sucker for gore. and fuck, it gets something else clenching too. you seriously wonder if nico can feel you throbbing when he rests his hand under your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. he leans in for a kiss. no tongue, just lips to lips. it's nice. you notice he put on chapstick and you can taste the buttery popcorn on his mouth.

however, you're interrupted by the creaking of a chair behind you. the sound of someone getting up and leaving. you didn't pull away in time to catch their face, but the noise frankly startled you than any other part of the movie.

the film ended shortly after that. no, the person who left never did end up returning to their seat behind you, but that had long since left your mind anyways. nico drove you home in his silver convertible, the top down creating a nice breeze through your hair. the car ride was silent but content. date successful, in your opinion, shitty movie aside.

"well, goodnight," he says when your door is barely cracked open and you're halfway inside. you silently leaned up on your tippy toes and pecking his lips once more. you ignore the crackle of twigs in the foliage surrounding your house, blaming it on the wind.

the door shut behinds you. you live in a campus house, but your roommates just so happen to be out of the house for the weekend. this has meant nothing but trouble for you — meaning you snuck your friend lacey's vibrator out of its drawer and had yourself some fun. over and over and over. pastel pink with a pretty bow on the hot glued on the end for decoration (the two of you might have done that together). but don't worry about how you know where her vibrator is, that's none of your business!

while you're washing off the facial cleanser from your face in the shower as conditioner sits patiently in your hair, you think about nico. specifically whether or not you're actually interested in him. sure, he's a nice guy, romantic. bad taste in movies but clearly cares about what you like since he picked out a horror film to take you on a date to. and yet, that nagging thing in the back of your head, the one that told you not to commit to a relationship for fear of being stuck in one, had you snap back to the reality of relationships. you'll never be free to just date who you want, whenever you want. it made you frown.

you get out of the shower eventually, still undecided about the future of your dating life, and you decide to put the topic to rest and relax with a classic: nightmare on elm street. or maybe something else? suspiria, the thing, or evil dead? you browse your collection, and stop at freddy vs. jason. speaking of shitty horror movies and sticking to the freddy theme, you think with a smirk.

you slip the cd into the player. super retro, i know right?

you're popcorn'd out, to say the least, so you skip on making a bowl. your movie is interrupted shortly by the buzzing of your phone. the caller id just lists a phone number in your area. usually, you wouldn't pick these up, but you do it anyways. stupidly.

"hello?" you call out into your phone.

"hello." comes a man's deep voice.

you scratch your head, careful not to chip your manicure. "who is this?"

"who is this?" he mimics you, emphasis on this.

you scoff, already annoyed. probably a prank call. "i asked you first."

"look," he mediates, probably sensing your forming annoyance, "all i have is a question to ask."

"alright..." you say. nothing wrong with that. "shoot."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

you pretend to contemplate. "hereditary," you say finally. of course it's your favorite. it's had your heart since you first saw it in theaters. anyone who knows you knows not to bring it up if they don't want to hear you go on a tangent about it. "it's the right amount of atmosphere with the right amount of gore."

"isn't that the one where the little girl gets decapitated after slamming into a telephone from sticking her head out of a car window?" the man on the phone drawls, testing you.

"yes!" you practically exclaim. you hope you found another fan. not many other people shared your enthusiasm for the movie as you did.

he hums. "that's an interesting choice. i don't hear it enough. a little depressing, though."

"you mean you call other girls asking them what their favorite horror movie is? that's a new level of game i've never seen before," you tease, abandoning the movie to get up mindlessly and head to the bathroom to put your hair up.

"not just any girl," he says with a chuckle.

"oh?" you say, "so i'm special?"

"you could say that."

you smile, staring back at your reflection. you get it now. "you know, you could've just come inside earlier, nico. no need to put on the act."

"i'm not nico," he corrects you sternly.

you scoff and roll your eyes, putting your device down and switching it to speaker phone so you can multitask. "right," you say, unconvinced.

you sort through your collection of hair clips, picking out the right one — "the one with the strawberry charm, huh? that one's my favorite. 's sweet like you."

you nearly drop the accessory. how the fuck? a shiver shoots up through your spine. your head snaps towards the direction of the bathroom window. searching desperately for an answer, anyone that could've just been watching. but no one's there, of course!

"that's not funny, nico," you snap. you're pretty sure you've worn this hair clip to a study date over at his apartment, right? and he might've even complimented you on it. yeah, you try to convince yourself, he's seen it before.

but that doesn't explain how he knew —

"i told you already," the man on the phone's voice is agitated, "i'm not nico."

"then who the fuck are you?!" you ask in a shrill voice, ready to hang up on this motherfucker. you steadily twist your hair upwards and secure the claw around it, letting your remaining hair fall in a ponytail.

"i'll prove it to you," he tells you as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "check the backyard."

you shockingly decide not to hang up for your sake. you would rather keep a close eye on the situation rather than just let something happen to you. you creep towards the sliding glass doors, gulp, then switch on the light, only to be met with monstrosity.

nico's on his knees; you can hear him whimpering from inside, scrambling for his amputated arm that lies in between him and the sliding door. you open your mouth but you can't scream; the only thing you can feel is a shudder that shakes you to your very core. you feel almost weak in the knees, desperate to keep yourself standing on your two feet. there's blood, so much blood. all the backyard porch, your roommates will be so mad and concerned about what happened? how can you even begin to explain this?

you try to do the only sane thing you can think of: hang up and call the police. the thought of this being one big prank pulled on you crossed your mind, but you were too scared not to act. a beat passes after you pressed that little red button on your phone, and the door bursts open. this time you scream.

in a dark blur, you're pressed roughly against a mirror that frames the wall behind the dining table. a gloved hand wraps around your throat. "you stupid bitch, hanging up on me."

you meet the mask of your captor: the damn mask from that slasher movie stab. you were never particularly fond of the franchise. "lame movie reference," you manage to choke out, and you instantly eat your words. he slaps you across the face and loosens his grip at the same time, watching you fall to your side on the hard ground.

you can barely gather your thoughts — your head is fucking swimming — before he's dragging you by your ankle with a strong grip in the direction of your bedroom. you hate how you slide so easily across the smooth floor. you try your best to break free, to run, wriggling your leg violently to shake him away to no avail. when he's dragged you successfully inside the bedroom he closes it behind you, bends down and manhandles onto lacey's bed.

tears spill down your cheeks. this is it. you're going to die. but he doesn't take out a knife, or any weapon, actually, to fatally harm you with. instead, he's rummaging through the drawers in front of the bed. and then it dawns on you and you sit up. that's the drawer where lacey's —

"ah, found it," the man says triumphantly, turning back towards you, pastel pink vibrator in hand, toying with the ribbon. "what a cute little thing. do you know how many times i've watched you get off to this little device? what a fucking sight you make."

your eyes narrow. "who are you?"

he chuckles, then uses a hand to remove his mask, revealing the face of your robotics professor. him? how is it possible you've managed to capture his attention? when throughout the entire course he's done nothing but ignore you, treating you like you didn't exist. always ignoring your questions. shit, he's the reason why you started going to nico in the first place for help in his class: because nico was like his golden-star-student.

"i don't get it," you say, lip trembling as tears well in your eyes. "why me? what did i do—"

"to captivate me?" he finishes your sentence, turning on the vibrator. you gulp like it's your impending doom. professor raglan kneels onto the bed and you wish you could back up but you only hit the headboard behind you. "well, for starters: you were always so eager for my attention. and it hurt me not to give it to you. couldn't blow my cover, sweetheart."

you still didn't understand, but you didn't have anymore time to contemplate or question him. he was spreading your legs, splitting open a space under your short, pink skirt for him to gain access to the area between your legs. you fumble with the sheets, holding them in a death grip. you definitely ruined your manicure. once your skirt bunches up around your hips, it reveals your panty-less mound. of course. you didn't think to wear anything after your shower because it wasn't like you were going out.

your professor whistles lowly, pupils dilating in desire. it's perverted, the way he puts down the vibe, and grabs your hips upwards so he can get a closer look at your pussy. you throb subconsciously, making him look back up at you with a quirked brow. he leans forward to blow air on you, eyes still steady to gage your reaction. you whimper and wriggle in his grasp, face heating up in embarrassment. "you just have the cutest little cunt," he comments when he pulls away, then sticks his tongue out to lick a stripe up your pussy. "mmm, even sweeter, too. sweeter than the little strawberry in your hair."

"ohh," you coo. you hate to admit how good it feels, but here you were, arching your back in his touch and moaning.

"yeah?" he asks, taking his mouth off of you for a moment. "my baby like it when i eat her dripping pussy?"

you sniffle, not answering. you can't find it within you to be able to. "no? maybe i'll stop and move on then." you want to cry, fuck. a feeling of relief settles back in when he takes the vibrator back in his hand. the low hum grabs your attention — not like you could zone out at a time like this anyways.

when the device meets your needly clit you groan, flex your fingers at the sheets. "oh, fuck," you whisper. his eyes never leave your face, and every time you regrettably look at him, he's breathing heavily, open mouthed, like he just can't get enough of you. so you avoid looking at him, going through stages of keeping your eyes closed or looking up at the ceiling, praying for sweet release to whatever cruel deity is looking upon you getting fucked by this old man.

the vibrations against your clit are a little too good to be true. you can't help but feel like there's a price, one you'll specifically have to pay with his dick inside you. you wonder if it'll be lame like the other guys you've had, but honestly? you could get off to the thought of this situation, and you'll definitely remember this for future masterbation-sake. you're a freak like that.

raglan presses down on your stomach, iliciting a hiss from you through your teeth. "want you to come all over my arms," he tells you, "coat my gloves, you'll make me so happy."

fuck, then you get an idea. the gloves inside of you. you throb once more at the thought. "i-inside," you murmur, hoping he'd get the message.

"huh? what's that, baby?" he asks mockingly, but you know damn well he heard you. please don't make me said it, you think.

you reach down to touch his free hand, guiding it towards your entrance. "want my fingers inside you, hmm? baby needs something inside her to feel satisfied?"

"mhm," you hum with a nod of your head. he slowly slips a gloved finger inside you, the fabric deliciously creating friction that makes you grind on his hand. he looks up at you with a dirty smile, then reaches forward to kiss you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you ever so slowly. it's perfect. the stimulation of the vibrator combined with the feeling of his clothed hand is enough to make you burst.

and you do gracefully. so much that he pecks your cheek, tells you how much of a good girl you are for him, as lewd 'ah's tumble from your lips uncontrollably. you buck against his hand until he pulls is out of you, whining at his removal.

"i know, sweetheart, i know," he sympathizes after you, "daddy's cock's gonna be inside you soon, though. then you'll have something else to play with."

you're already exhausted from your first orgasm, somewhat unsure of how you're going to take the next, but you can hardly think about that now. you're drunk off the atmosphere between you two, nico's amputation is far forgotten. you can't even remember what you were doing before this. your hair is tussled in a way that has your hair clip drooping down the side of your shoulder loosely, but you don't have any energy to fix it. all you can think about is daddy's — wait, when did he become daddy? — cock inside you, and that's all that matters.

raglan begins to grind his bare cock against your entrance, having discarded his black slacks moments ago. he rubs the tip against you, purposefully bumping against your click, drawing out a symphony of noises — babbles along the lines of "please, just put it in, i can't take it anymore" — as your face contorts in a sob and tears fall down your cheeks again.

"my girl is such a crybaby," he chuckles, then slowly guides your hips to slide down on his cock. he fills you up by the inch, making you feel every ridge and vein. the stinging sensation of not being adjusted to his length washes over you in a surprisingly pleasurable wave. "so fucking tight," he gasps. he lets out his respective groans once he's fully sheathed inside of you.

then he starts moving; then things start to get good. you're not fully adjusted to his length, but the way you're leaking around him makes for perfect lube. what's a little pleasure without pain? it could be worse, you could be on the floor writhing in pain with multiple stab wounds, but instead you were being stabbed by his dick inside of you, so you weren't in a position to complain.

raglan leans down so his body is on top of yours, keeps himself steady by planting one hand to the side of your head as he aggressively snaps his hips into yours. you realize, in this moment, just how desperate he's probably been for this. not like you could do much thinking, but the way he was pistoning inside you said enough about how he felt. and god you felt good, clenching and unclenching around him, making the prettiest noises he's ever heard.

one particularly hard thrust has your head swimming, like it did when he slapped you. you want him to slap you again, so you initiate it in the only way you know how; reaching forward to land a weak hit across his face. he stops moving for a second, shocked. then with a swift whack across the face, he's back to thrusting inside of you, even harder this time around. "wanted me to hit you so bad, you could've just asked you dumb little slut," he growls into your ear.

"''m sorry," you have the audacity to giggle, "couldn't tell you."

"yeah? am i fucking you that stupid?" he asks, "'course, i don't expect you to able to answer that."

he flips you over suddenly so you land on your stomach, putting himself back in, fucking you with reckless abandon. the way his cock is hitting your g-spot right now has you plummeting over the edge. you wriggle your hips backwards to help him get off too, which he does right inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

he doesn't pull out. he's waited too damn long for this to do so. he's gonna enjoy a nice, long time inside of you, whether you like it or not. he collapses on his side, pulling you close to him so that he's spooning you. the most important thing to him in that moment, is your half-awake form rising and falling with each breath against him with his cock buried deep inside of you, strawberry charmed hair clip discarded somewhere by the pillows.

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #🎀 — diary entry

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actiniumwrites · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒

synopsis: in which you friendzone them to protect your feelings, ignorant to the way they feel about you

characters: diluc, xiao, and kaveh x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, , slight swearing (i think), mentions of alcohol/ being drunk, spoilers for kaveh’s backstory, kaveh’s part is actually so long i’m so sorry

notes: got the idea for this out of the blue, but really liked it! i had a lot of fun writing these and would honestly be down to make a part two if you guys want it. also kaveh’s part was written before he was officially released this patch, so if anything is inaccurate, i apologize!

Diluc:

When Diluc had asked you to attend an event at his house in honor of the winery, you hadn’t expected it to be so extravagant. Though, perhaps it was because it was the first time you had ever been to his house. Either way, you were in awe at the sheer luxuriousness everything seemed to possess.

“Wow, I seriously cannot believe you’ve never invited me to your house before,” you tease as your eyes glanced around the room. The dining table was huge and lined with various dishes you didn’t even know existed. Not to mention what the entire house looked like in general. You were too scared to touch anything in fear of it breaking.

“I did invite you over — several times, if you can recall. But according to you, you’re just so busy you never have the time,” the red haired male corrected you as he moved slightly behind you to guide you across the room, shoulders bumping together every so often.

“Well if I had known you were living like this maybe I would’ve made the time,” you joked, intentionally bumping your shoulder into his as you threw a smile toward him. His eyes averted themselves from your face and smiled off into the distance, completely ignoring your jests about his wealth.

The two of you had continued to joke around with each other playfully as he walked you around his house to give you a tour of sorts. You had noticed all the people around as you walked, all laughing and enjoying the delicious food and wine Diluc had provided. Even Kaeya was here, you noted to your own surprise, seemingly catching up with some of the maids.

“Oh, I almost forgot, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Diluc interrupted your moment to observe. His hand moved to the lower half of your back to guide you in the direction of blonde haired woman in maid attire. Your hand shook hers as Diluc introduced her to you, “This is Adelinde, the head housemaid of the winery.”

You smiled and told her your name, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Diluc’s best friend.”

“Oh,” she said strangely, as if you had said something wrong. Almost seamlessly, Adelinde covered up her tone as she spoke again, “Ahem, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Please do enjoy yourselves tonight and let me know if you need anything.”

Diluc cleared his throat and put his hand around your shoulders as you said your goodbyes. Although, the second she was out of your sights, he dropped it, “So, how about some food?”

You hesitated, sensing something was wrong. His smile looked stiff, like it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. You could almost sense desperation within his tone, like he didn’t want you to start your usual interrogation when you thought something was wrong, “Oh um, sure.”

He walked you over to the table standing next to your side, but didn’t dare to put a hand on you like usual. It wasn’t something you often paid any attention toward, but now it just felt weird — cold even.

“I’ll go grab you some fresh wine from the cellar, take whatever you’d like,” Diluc said quickly before rushing away. Your brow furrowed as you watched him disappear from your sight.

“What’s with the frown?” a silk voice asked. Your eyes snapped up to meet the blue haired man you knew to be Diluc’s brother, Kaeya.

“Long time no see, Kaeya,” you said, turning your attention back to the food as you served yourself a plate. Kaeya grabbed one too and began filling it as well.

“Oh, you should try these, they’re delicious,” he said as he placed a small dessert on your plate, “but don’t tell Diluc I said that. Can’t have him thinking I like his baking or anything.”

He continued as he grabbed himself another glass of wine off the table next to the food, “Anyway, what’s up with the gloom expression? Don’t tell me Diluc hurt your feelings?”

“No,” you grumble. It had been awhile since you had last seen Kaeya. Not that it was on purpose, because honestly, you never had a problem with him like Diluc did. Time just didn’t seem to allow the two of you to meet aside from a few times a year. “If anything, it was the other way around. Problem is, I don’t know what I did.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, Diluc is very fond of y—“

“Kaeya. Leave them alone,” Diluc interrupts with an annoyed look, shooing Kaeya away. Kaeya leaves without a word. A sly expression was on his face, hoping you would catch on to what he was trying to tell you.

Diluc held the bottle of wine in front of him, silently offering you some. You nodded your head and he poured you a glass before making another excuse to walk off again. The same thing seems to happen a few more times before you reach the end of the night. What had started off as a fun event for the two of you to enjoy, seemed to trickle into nothing but misery for the both of you.

The walk home was quiet. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why he had offered to walk you home if he was just going to stay silent the entire time, “You didn’t have to walk me home if you’re just gonna have to walk all the way back, y’know?”

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, not even making eye contact with you, “I have to go to Angel’s Share anyway. There’s some paperwork I have to pick up.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent again for the next ten minutes of the walk. It isn’t until you’re approaching the bridge to the city that you speak up again, “Diluc?”

“Yeah?”

You sighed and stopped walking, “Listen…did I maybe, I don’t know, say or do something to upset you? Because if I did, I’m really sorry and I just want things to not be awkward between us.”

You could tell he was contemplating not answering you by the frustrated expression on his face. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally spoke, still staring somberly off into the distance, “Answer this honestly. What are we? What is this?” His hands gestured between you and him as he spoke. His tone is rushed and there’s bitterness behind it.

“Well, we’re friends…aren’t we?” you carefully asked, almost questioning yourself.

“That’s the problem,” Diluc finally cracked, “I don’t want to be just friends. This entire time I thought that maybe there was something more than that between us…but I suppose I was wrong.”

Your eyes widened and your hands moved to grip tightly around his own before he could walk away from you again, “Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve told you I felt the same if you had just, I don’t know? Said something about it? How was I supposed to know you had feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry, what? So you do feel the same way?”

You put two and two together and a teasing smiled made it’s way back to your face,“Archons, was this all because I introduced myself as your best friend to Adelinde?”

“What? No, of course not,” Diluc adamantly denied your accusation. He grabbed your hand and began to pull you away while you burst out laughing at the realization, “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“No! I barely drank anything, you liar,” you punched his shoulder, “Admit it, you were upset you got friendzoned and —“

Diluc turned around swiftly, pulled you toward him and placed his lips on yours within a matter of seconds, effectively shutting you up. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled away and began to walk you to your house. When you arrived at your doorstep, you turned around and placed one final kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” you smiled. Diluc looked away again, failing to resist the smile that tugged at his lips. It was the first time Diluc had been genuinely happy in a long time.

He smiled as he turned away from your house to leave, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Xiao:

Xiao felt his heart racing when he heard your voice calling his name from somewhere in Liyue. Somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint. There was pain in it, and Xiao hated when you said his name in any way that wasn’t positive.

“Xiao! Please,” he heard you call out again, this time more pained than the last. The sound of your cries echoed in his ears and a feeling of his own pain surrounded his heart.

A few seconds longer and you could’ve ended up dead. It’s all Xiao could think about when he finally made it to you, heavily breathing in and out from how scared he was to lose you.

You were covered in bruises and bathed in blood — whether or not it was your own, he wasn’t sure. Your eyes were half shut and your head was leaned back in relief at the sight of him. Several abyss mages of varying elements lie dead on the ground around you. Your polearm lay amongst them, cracked in half and dented all over.

Xiao spotted your vision a few feet away, anemo like his own. He gathered it quickly alongside your polearm before securing it on him so he could pick you up. Once his arms were wrapped carefully around you, he didn’t hesitate to teleport away and back to the inn.

“Here, lay down,” he spoke curtly. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he moved across the room to fetch his medical supplies. This wasn’t the first time he had to treat your injuries, but it wasn’t often that it was this bad.

Xiao worked quickly with your injuries, it was effortless and he was careful not to hurt you. Unbeknownst to you, his heart was racing out of control the entire time. Not only was there left over anxiety from when you had first called for him, but it had carried over and made itself at home as he worked away at your injuries. There was too much red oozing out of your body and the bruises were only growing.

What if he hadn’t gotten there on time? What if he was only a few seconds later? What if he hadn’t heard you call out for him?

“Archons, I am feeling so much better,” you interrupted his poisonous thoughts. Your leg was lifted into the air as you inspected the bandages wrapped around it and all the bloodied rags that sat beside you on the floor.

Xiao’s eyes hardened for a moment while looking over you, an unreadable expression within them, “Please do not get injured like this again.”

Contrary to his eyes, yours softened and you took his hand in yours, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just—“

“It’s fine,” he cut you off when he began to feel weird, not used to people caring about his feelings. Xiao helped you up and out of the bed, his arms wrapped around yours to keep you stable as he walked you to the bathroom counter to finally change out of your bloodied clothes.

Your face was close to his as you spoke, “No, Xiao, really. I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve helped me out and even allowed me to help you. You just mean so much to me and I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.”

‘So lucky to have you as a friend’

It echoed in his mind over and over again, more than the voices of his late yaksha friends. For once, another source of pain had finally outmatched his past.

You didn’t see him how he saw you.

Xiao felt his body go cold at the realization. He remained oddly silent as he helped you to the bathroom, not even bothering to give you a response or so much as a simple nod. As soon as you were actually in the bathroom, he backed up immediately and nodded before mumbling something about needing to take care of some other stuff. He had even disappeared before you could utter a goodbye.

Not returning for hours was something you were used to when it came to Xiao. He wasn’t social at all, and that was something you readily accepted when you first offered to become friends with him — even if he declined over and over again.

But hours turned into days and days turned into a week. Xiao hadn’t returned since that night you were injured.

You weren’t sure what happened to him. Maybe he was hurt while out protecting, or maybe he was just in one of those weird social slumps again. But when Xiao finally ran into you one day, it was undeniably awkward between the two of you.

“Xiao?” you urgently called out to him, a mix of worry and shock in your voice, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied bluntly, eyes barely looking at yours. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

You squinted your eyes, analyzing him carefully, “That’s it? I haven’t seen you for a week! I get injured and then all of the sudden you just freak out and leave? It doesn’t make any sense. Listen, if something happened, you can tell—“

“Nothing happened. I said I’m fine,” he cut you off before turning his body and grabbing his polearm, ready to teleport off like he always did. You quickly grabbed his arm before he could though, a tight grip that wasn’t painful but made sure he couldn’t escape.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Ugh, could you stop holding my hand like that.”

“Huh?” Your phase morphed into shock, confused as to why he suddenly cared about you holding his hand. You’d done it in the past, so it wasn’t like it was anything new to him. Besides, you were always careful not to do anything to freak him out.

“If we are just friends, then I do not want you holding my hand like that,” Xiao said before pulling his hand from yours with a harsh sigh.

“Wait, what?” you asked quickly before he could leave, “What does this have to do with us being friends?”

Xiao stared blankly at you for a few seconds, like he was contemplating whether or not he should speak again, until finally, he confessed, “The other day…you thanked me for being such a good friend. That is not what I want.”

A pang hit your chest and a tiny prick rippled behind your eyes at his confession, “You don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“Huh? Why would you think such idiotic things? No— I mean yes, I do want to be your friend. But I do not want to be…just friends,” Xiao explained. His cheeks were beginning to turn red and his eyes averted even more. He was nervous, you finally realized.

“You…you have feelings for me? Xiao, you should’ve told me. Avoiding me for a week straight wasn’t cool, you know?”

Xiao nods and crosses his arms, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer until you added on, “I have feelings for you too. I really like you, Xiao. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were just a friend, but I also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off or something.”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. His hand twitched before it quietly reached for your own and took it in his. His grip was firm, like he was scared you would leave.

“Xiao?” You grabbed his attention when you noticed his eyes falter, like he still couldn’t quite grasp the reality of your feelings.

“Yes?”

“I really like you, okay? I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”

Kaveh:

“Kaveh! Look at this!” your smile lit up as you dragged Kaveh toward a merchant selling various little trinkets. Kaveh willingly followed, idiotically smiling behind you at your childlike excitement. His hand tightly gripped around yours to ensure you wouldn’t go too far or get separated from him.

The two of you had decided to take a greatly needed break after working for hours upon hours each day for the past two weeks on a shiny new blueprint for a brand new Akademiya research center in the desert. The complications of what the research required versus the heat in the desert and its effect on the lab materials was making it difficult to come up with a practical, yet complex enough lab for the researchers. The headache it had brought upon the two of you was no joke, and you had finally realized that a break was the only thing that would get you through the block you were collectively stuck in.

“Hello, dears,” the old woman spoke gently, a bright smile on her face that perfectly creased her eyes. She had an immensely warm aura to her and you couldn’t help but match her smile. Kaveh glanced to you, a small smile gracing his own face as his cheeks turned slightly pink. He couldn’t help it after he saw how good you looked today.

“So,” you started, eyes bouncing around to each and every item she had to sell, “How long has your shop been open? Everything here looks so beautiful!”

“Oh, why thank you, dear! It’s been open for nearly two decades now. It is indeed strange to see how much time has passed,” she answered happily, reminiscing on the early days of her shop. She had told you how she opened it with her husband, but how he had long since passed, to which Kaveh and you had offered your respects.

Your eyes danced over all the trinkets again, but you couldn’t help but notice the little figurines that looked like creatures from your childhood. You couldn’t quite place where you knew them from, but you picked it up regardless and fidgeted with it before turning to Kaveh, “I think I’m gonna get this one, what do you think?”

“It’s cute,” he said with a gentle smile, admiring the little blue plant like figure in your hand, “I think I’ll get one in red.”

You finished paying the kind woman for your purchases and thanked her dearly once the two of you were done. The conversation had continued a little while afterward, with both you and Kaveh intrigued in the stories she kindly shared with you.

The sun was beginning to near its setting time, you noticed. The blues were fading to oranges and reds and the air was beginning to get a little colder, signaling the night was on its way.

“Thank you again,” you told her, “These are really nice, I’ll be sure to place them in my workroom so I can see it everyday!”

“Oh, that’s awfully kind of you, dear. I must say, I admire the way you treat everyone as your friend. It’s truly a rare quality to find in someone these days,” she gushed.

“Thank you! I really just try to make everyone feel comfortable and welcome,” you explained before you said your goodbyes. The woman said her goodbyes too, telling the two of you to visit her again sometime soon and tell her all about the architectural work you guys do.

Kaveh nearly stopped in his tracks as he processed the conversation the two of you just had. You hadn’t even caught the hesitation in his voice or the sudden change in his mood.

You treat everyone like that?

“Ugh, she was so nice, wasn’t she?” you rambled, but Kaveh was only half listening. Not that you had noticed that either.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” he blurted out, not entirely sure that he had even heard you correctly. His eyes followed the pattern of his shoes pressing against the floor as he swung the bag next to him back and forth, lost in thought. You didn’t question him once.

It was quiet for the rest of the walk aside from you announcing that you were tired and were going to check in for the night. Kaveh had agreed and walked you home all while hoping that you wouldn’t notice his sudden quietness.

If Kaveh was being honest, his brain felt like it was spiraling out of control.

One moment he’s walking around with you all day, enjoying his time off. And the next, he can’t stop replaying a silly conversation with an old woman who he barely knew.

The worst part is, he couldn’t help but take it personally. Being treated like he was on a pedestal and then having it ripped away is something Kaveh is used to, but he never thought he would have to go through it with you.

You made him feel special, like one of a kind. The way your eyes always lit up so brightly when you greeted him at work everyday. The way you hugged him when you were feeling down and no one else. The way you always treated him to food and drinks without ever asking him to pay you back because you knew he was struggling — and not once did you ever make him feel bad about it. The way you would jump to hold his hand when you got excited about something or when you were scared when lightning would strike.

You never did any of those things with anyone else. But all this time, you made everyone feel like they were your friend, like they were special in their own way. For all he knew, you did little things like that with everyone and made them feel like one of a kind too. Maybe Kaveh was nothing, he thought, maybe he was really just like everyone else. Just your friend and nothing more.

Kaveh bowed his head to his chest when he arrived home, his hand leaned forward to support himself as he felt the tears coming on. Being emotional or overdramatic was something Alhaitham had always criticized him for, but you? You always taught him to embrace it and let what he was feeling out. You had helped him with so much of his life and moving on toward bigger and better things, but now he couldn’t help but feel bitterness in his heart.

The keys in the blonde’s hand returned back to his pocket almost immediately after retrieving them. His palm dragged down the gray wall of Alhaitham’s house and back to his side. Kaveh couldn’t bear to enter his own home, not at this hour with such painful thoughts in his mind. Alhaitham would probably nag him anyway, and he really didn’t feel like dealing with his cruel words tonight — and Kaveh never liked when they were about you. You didn’t deserve that, even if it was just a joke.

And so he returned to the tavern once more in his life. Drinking away his problems was unhealthy, you had told him, but right now he didn’t care. You weren’t here and there was no one around to stop him from throwing back drink after drink. It had been a long time since Kaveh had been truly drunk, but today was enough to turn him away from sobriety.

“Kaveh. Get up.” A voice echoed painfully in his ears.

“[Name]?” he mumbled out incoherently as he blindly reached toward the figure in front of him. Their hand swatted his away before swooping under to pick him up. Kaveh mumbled your name a few more times, desperately trying to figure out what was happening.

“Why are you at the Tavern, Kaveh? Have you not learned your lesson about drinking?”

Oh. That’s who it was. Kaveh should have known by the sharpness in the voice or the annoying familiarity it held.

“Alhaitham? Get off of me,” he tried pushing the Scribe away. Alhaitham didn’t budge as he slammed a few bills on the table and carried Kaveh out of the Tavern. Lambad waved him off, but thanked him for taking care of the architect.

Your name continued to slur from his mouth, blending together into what almost sounded like gibberish. Not to mention the near beating Alhaitham had endured as he carried Kaveh around Sumeru.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t expected a knock at your door at nearly two in the morning.

“Alhaitham? What’s going on? Why do you have Kaveh?” you quickly questioned. Alhaitham shoved Kaveh toward you, a pained groan falling from his lips as he fell into you. The Scribe explained the situation to you. How he had never seen Kaveh come home that night, but later found him at Lambad’s Tavern drinking himself to death as he cried to the sound of your name.

You could only muster a silent nod out, confused but entirely willing to take care of Kaveh. You cared a lot for him after all. Alhaitham had shown himself out afterward, telling you to drop him back off tomorrow so he won’t bother you too much with all his whining. You breathed out a strained laugh and then shut the door before you turned your attention back to Kaveh and helped him to your couch.

“Kaveh?” you asked gently as you tucked a blanket over his shivering body. Teary red eyes stared back at you blankly, refusing to answer. You sighed and then nodded, accepting he may not have been willing to tell you anything. And although you had never outright admitted it, drunk Kaveh was not someone you enjoyed dealing with, “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me anyway,” he scoffed and turned away like a child who just got told they couldn’t have their favorite toy. You wanted to say your patience was wearing thin, but honestly, you could never truly be mad at Kaveh.

“Kaveh.”

It was silent for a moment. You could only see about half of Kaveh’s face as he buried the other half in the side of the couch with his hair covering parts of his eyes. The quiver of his lip, however, was not amiss to you. Neither was the quiet sniffle or the tears that gently slid down his face.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered to you, voice cracking as a hand quickly moved to his mouth to muffle his cries. He hoped you didn’t hear, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

“It’s not nothing. You’re hurt, Kaveh,” you rubbed his back. Kaveh leaned into your touch and brought his head up to meet your eyes.

Teary eyes stared into yours and he sighed before speaking, giving into you like he wished he always could have, “I thought I was more than just a friend to you. But I was stupid and I realized today that I’m not any more special than anyone else. You treat me just like you treat everyone else because you’re so kind and caring and— Archons, I am so stupid to believe that we were ever more than that.”

Kaveh paused before he spoke again, voice shakier than before, “I really don’t want you to leave, but I get it if you want to or if you don’t want to be friends anymo—”

Your lips were on his before he could finish his sentence. When you pulled back, you noticed his eyes widened like he had sobered up all at once, “You are special to me, Kaveh. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t.”

Kaveh smiled as a few more tears spilled out of his eyes, “You really mean it?”

“With my whole heart.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc #xiao #kaveh #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh x y/n

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lupinmoonlight · 11 months

Note

oh if lupin had caught me reading smut about him during his class i think i would have just avada kedavra myself out of embarrassment 😭

Red-handed

Masterlist AO3

Summary - Professor Lupin catches you reading a smutty story about him. He keeps you after class and makes you touch yourself on his desk as he watches (1,642 words).

Warnings - Professor/student, reader masturbating, age gap, jerking off, cum on clothes, mentions of embarrassment, some "good girl", orgasm control, very slight edging, my grammar (english is my second language), not proof-read.

Notes - This fic was inspired by anon! It was a lot of fun to write! I would be so mortified haha. The fic I am referring to in this fic is Sinful if you guys are interested.

You sat in the back row, your quill idle, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Your eyes weren't on Professor Lupin but on the parchment concealed within the pages of your textbook. You had been careful, oh so careful, not to let anyone see what you had been reading, but the pull of the forbidden words was irresistible.

You continued reading, your eyes captured by the elegant, looping handwriting that described a scenario that would make even the dirtiest minds squirm.

A string of curses fell from his lips, "Ah, fuck..." he moaned as thick ropes of warmth spilled onto the lace of your skin, hot and sticky.

Your cheeks burned with a blush that you prayed no one would notice. You were so engrossed in the sinful text that you didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching your desk.

"Y/N?" Lupin's voice pulled you back to the reality of the classroom, and your heart skipped a beat. "Is everything alright? You seem...distracted."

You snapped the book shut, but it was too late. Lupin's hand was already extended, palm up. "May I?"

Your hands trembled as you handed over the parchment, your eyes fixed on your desk as you muttered, "I'm sorry, Professor. I was just..."

Lupin unfolded the parchment and his eyes quickly scanned the page. You didn't need to look up to know when he reached the passage you were just reading; the slight hitch in his breath was giveaway enough. For a moment, the room was utterly silent except for the frantic pounding of your heart resonating in your ears.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite identify. "I think we should discuss this...after class."

You nodded, your mouth dry, unable to form words.

The remaining minutes of the lecture stretched on interminably. When it finally ended, you remained in your seat, frozen, as your classmates filed out. The door closed behind with the last student with a soft click, leaving you alone with your Professor.

"Come," he simply said as he climbed the short staircase to his office.

You stood up, your legs feeling wobbly, and followed him. It felt like the longest walk of your life despite his office being only a few meters away.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured towards a chair facing his desk.

You sat, clutching your hands in your lap.

Lupin leaned back against his desk, his demeanor markedly different from the gentle, approachable Professor you were used to. His eyes, usually warm and understanding, held a depth of seriousness and a flicker of something that looked like...hunger. Something you had never seen in him before. He unfolded the parchment and handed it to you.

"I'd like you to read a passage for me," he said, his voice low and steady.

Your hands trembling, you took the parchment. You glanced at the text, your face heating up as you felt like you had lost the ability to speak.

With a low growl, his hips began moving on their own accord, the desperate grind of his arousal evident in his every movement...the friction, the heat of your body, was intoxicating...

As you read, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You couldn't believe you were reading these words to Professor Lupin himself. You dared not look up at him, focusing solely on the parchment, absolutely mortified.

"That's enough," he said softly, stepping closer to where you sat. He studied you for a moment, his gaze traveling over your form perhaps a moment longer than necessary, making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Do you enjoy these stories, Y/N?" he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Your eyes darted to the floor. "I...I supposed I do, Professor," you admitted, your voice a mere whisper.

He stared down at you, making you feel like a small, cornered creature perched on the edge of the chair. He tilted his head slightly, a faint hint of a smile playing on his lips. He was enjoying this.

"Look at me," he commanded gently.

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. There was no judgement there, only a thoughtful curiosity tinted with something you could only describe as lust.

"And what is it about these stories that you enjoy so much?"

"I-I don't know, Professor," you stammered.

"You don't know? That's unfortunate...I thought perhaps you could show me," he continued, taking the parchment from your hands.

"Professor, I-" but before you could finish your sentence, he swiftly hauled you up from the chair and placed you on the edge of his desk, standing right between your legs.

"Was this part of the story you were reading, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low as he leaned in.

You could only shake your head, the tone of his voice going straight to your loins.

"Do you want to stop?" he continued as he tilted your chin to look into your eyes.

"N-No, Professor", you whispered.

With a low growl, his hands traveled under your skirt, gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. You could feel his arousal pressing against you through his trousers.

"I want to watch you," he commanded in a husky voice. "Touch yourself for me."

Your mind went blank. You hesitated, your eyes darting nervously around the dim office before settling on him. His gaze was intense, demanding, and you weren't sure if you were going to combust or simply pass out.

Tentatively, you slid a trembling hand between your thighs, feeling the dampness of your panties as you pulled them aside to give your fingers access to your heated core. A slight gasp escaped you as you made contact.

"That's it," he encouraged, his hands starting to unbutton his trousers to free himself from the constricting fabric. You dared looking down, your eyes landing on his hardened length. At the sight, your hand started to move slowly, your fingers dancing in a way you were oh so familiar with.

He tightened his grip on your thigh, his other hand gripping himself firmly, beginning to stroke in tandem with your movements. "Show me how you like it. Show me what you do when you read those stories about me."

You responded to his commands, your fingers moving in slow circular motions over your sensitive spot, your breathing growing ragged. The sight of you, spread out on his desk in your uniform and touching yourself at his command, only intensified his arousal.

"What a good girl," he praised as he continued to stroke himself slowly. "Is this what you do when you're alone? When you think about me?"

You nodded, your cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink as he watched you intently. Your movements grew more and more frantic, pathetic whimpers escaping your lips.

Your eyes darted to his, instinctively seeking some kind of permission. He could tell you were close, on the verge of falling apart.

"You want to come?" he teased, delighting in the desperate whimper you gave in response. "Not yet," he warned, drawing out the pleasure and anticipation. "You'll come when I say so. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, Professor," you whimpered, your eyes closing shut as you fought against the impending climax.

Watching you, Lupin's grip on himself tightened, the pace of his strokes increasing as he felt himself nearing the edge too. "Beg for it," he commanded suddenly.

Your body trembled, your movements growing faster. You were dangerously close and you didn't think you could hold back any longer. The only response you could give him was a desperate whimper.

"You can do better than that. Come on, use your words," he teased, his grip on your thigh now bruisingly tight.

"Please, P-Professor...I can't...I need..." you stammered, unable to form a cohesive sentence.

He watched you, taking in every twitch of your body, every flutter of your eyes, every ragged breath you took. It was a sight to behold, your desperation to obey him, even as your body yearned for release.

"Now," he finally growled, his voice strained, "Come for me."

Your body arched in pleasure, your fingers working frantically, soft moans escaping your lips as you fell apart on the desk.

The sight of you, so undone, combined with the sound you made as you came was almost his undoing. He leaned closer, his breath hot against your neck, and stroked himself furiously.

"Ah...fuck," he cursed loudly as the tension finally snapped. After a few hard strokes, his climax tore through him, his seed shooting forth, splattering all over your school uniform in thick, warm strands. He continued to move his hand, his hips jerking reflexively as he milked every last drop of his release.

You were both panting, chests heaving from the intensity of what had just transpired. He took a moment to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

Covered in him, you looked up at your Professor, trying to recover from your own release. Lupin pulled back slightly to take in the sight of you.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, "All messy in your uniform..."

You looked down, the contrast of his white seed on your dark skirt was stark, and it made you feel like you belonged to him, like you were his.

With a gentle touch, his clean hand reached out, his fingers carefully lifting your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his.

"Now, remember to save your reading for after class," he advised, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that hinted at a leniency his words didn't fully express.

"Yes, Professor," you responded, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #remus lupin smut #professor lupin x reader #hp fanfic #hp smut

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trippinsorrows · 4 months

Text

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up.

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is.

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing.

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional.

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—”

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe.

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers.

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way.

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well.

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you.

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind.

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body.

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice.

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all.

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have.

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit.

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away.

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be.

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself.

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums.

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t.

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you.

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color.

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?”

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it.

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.”

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two.

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it.

You want her to really think about what you’re asking.

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking.

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie.

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad.

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes.

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long.

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up.

So, you have to move in silence.

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise.

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe.

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change.

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting.

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride.

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses.

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona.

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is.

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway.

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment.

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy.

It makes your heart swell.

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing.

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters.

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design.

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.”

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.”

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old.

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking.

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?”

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?”

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him.

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?”

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly.

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?”

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she��s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words.

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot.

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother.

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad.

Mariah can fuck off.

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway.

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow.

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place.

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos.

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while.

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.”

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play.

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits.

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special.

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night.

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts.

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah.

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege.

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you.

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life.

Mariah can fuck off.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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