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#but now i've put it all into tables. which Don't Count.
proto-language · 7 months
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someone tell me why, despite having been working quite consistently on my dissertation since november, i am still working on the night before it is due, in march
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rosesareredrosa · 2 months
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When Laughter Fades
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Mattheo Riddle x fem reader
Summary: Mattheo takes things too far with his "banter" and didn't notice y/n's feelings of hurt and anger until one day she decides to speak up and Mattheo has to change to keep the relationship steady
Authors note: Sorry anon for the wait this was randomly so hard
Word Count: 1070
Mattheo Riddle loved pulling pranks. They brought him joy and amusement, especially when his favorite target, Y/N, was involved. She usually laughed along with him, but he didn't realize how close he was to crossing the line until today.
It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the Slytherin common room was buzzing with students enjoying their free time. Y/N was seated at a table, diligently working on an essay for Potions class. Mattheo, ever the prankster, watched her from across the room, a devious idea forming in his mind.
He slipped out of the common room and returned moments later with a small enchanted box. Inside it was a jinxed snake that would leap out and hiss at whoever opened it. He approached Y/N's table with a casual grin.
"Hey, Y/N, I found this weird box in the Room of Requirement. Want to see what's inside?" he asked, holding out the box to her.
Y/N glanced up, raising an eyebrow but smiling. "Sure, Mattheo. Let's see it."
As soon as she opened the box, the snake leaped out, hissing loudly. Y/N screamed, knocking over her ink bottle in the process. Ink splattered all over her essay and her robes. Her face paled, and then flushed with a mix of fear and anger.
"Mattheo, what the hell!" she shouted, her voice trembling.
Mattheo's grin faltered. "It's just a prank, Y/N. It's a fake snake, see?"
He picked up the snake, which had now returned to its inanimate state, and showed it to her. But Y/N wasn't laughing.
"Just a prank? Look at my essay, my robes! This isn't funny, Mattheo. You always do this, and I'm sick of it!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at him.
"Y/N, I didn't mean to—" Mattheo started, but she cut him off.
"That's the problem, Mattheo. You never mean to, but you always end up hurting me. Maybe you should think before you act."
With that, she turned on her heel and left the common room, leaving Mattheo standing there, guilt and regret washing over him. He watched her go, the weight of his actions sinking in.
Days passed, and Y/N avoided Mattheo. The usual spark in her eyes was gone, replaced by a guarded, wary look. Mattheo's heart ached every time he saw her, knowing he had put that look there. He had to make things right, but he didn't know how. Apologies had never been his strong suit.
One evening, after searching for Y/N around the castle, Mattheo finally found her in the library, sitting in a secluded corner. Her face was buried in her arms, and she looked up as he approached, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.
"Y/N," he said softly, approaching her table. "Please, can we talk?"
She looked up, her expression weary. "What do you want, Mattheo?"
"I want to apologize. I was an idiot, and I took things way too far. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
"You always say you're sorry, but then you do it again. How can I believe you this time?"
"I know I've messed up," he continued, "but I promise I'll change. No more pranks, no more teasing. I care about you, and I don't want to lose your friendship."
Y/N stood up, her frustration boiling over. "You care about me? You have a funny way of showing it. Every time I start to trust you, you pull another stupid prank. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
"Y/N, please, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought it was all in good fun."
"Good fun? Fun for who, Mattheo? Because it's not fun for me. It's humiliating and cruel."
Mattheo felt his heart sink. He hadn't realized just how much pain he had caused her. "I... I didn't see it that way. I thought we were just playing around."
"Playing around? This isn't a game, Mattheo. These are my feelings. And every time you pull one of your 'pranks,' it feels like you're saying my feelings don't matter."
"I'm sorry," Mattheo said, his voice breaking. "I really am. I don't want to lose you, Y/N."
She sighed, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "I don't know if I can trust you again, Mattheo. You've hurt me too many times."
"I'll prove it to you," he said desperately. "I'll show you that I can change. No more pranks, I swear. Just give me a chance."
Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and doubt. "Alright, Mattheo. But this is your last chance. If you hurt me again, we're done."
He nodded fervently. "I won't let you down. I promise."
In the days that followed, Mattheo made good on his promise. He was attentive, considerate, and kind. He helped Y/N with her studies, brought her favorite snacks, and most importantly, he listened. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that things weren't the same. Y/N was more reserved, her laughter less frequent, and Mattheo feared that he had caused irreparable damage.
One night, as they sat by the lake, watching the sunset, Y/N broke the silence. "Mattheo, do you ever think about the future?"
He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Sometimes. Why?"
"I've been thinking a lot lately. About us, about everything that's happened. I want to trust you, but it's hard. Every time I see you, I remember the hurt."
Mattheo's heart clenched. "Y/N, I promise I'll never hurt you again. I care about you so much."
She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and sorrow. "I want to believe you, Mattheo. But it's going to take time."
"I know. And I'm willing to wait, to do whatever it takes to make things right."
Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, a small gesture of trust. "Thank you, Mattheo."
As they sat there, wrapped in each other's presence, Mattheo knew that this was his chance to prove himself. The road to healing would be long and difficult, but he was determined to show Y/N that he valued her far more than any prank or joke. He would cherish her, protect her, and make sure that her laughter returned, brighter and more genuine than ever before.
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joostsblog · 4 months
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the button ~ joost klein one shot
My masterlist here ✨💌
Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader
Description: You are a contestant on the dating show the button by cut and hit it off with one of the other contestants.
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: watched this video and saw that bbno$ was in it so I got the idea, what if Joost was a contestant on there? some of the dialogue is stolen from that video btw. I've got some amazing requests in my inbox so I'm sorry for putting this out first but i just felt ✨inspired✨
Warnings: not proofread
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"(Y/N), you can come with me, you're next," the production assistant informed you and you got up from your spot on the sofa.
"Good luck," Amber, whom you had just met in the green room smiled at you.
"You're gonna kill it!" Leah also cheered you on.
"Thanks, girls!" you smiled and waved.
As the production assistant led you onto set your heart was pounding. This was your first time being in front of a camera and to do something something like flirting with someone which was nervewracking for you even without all the cameras and the pressure was definitely a big deal. You walked up to the small white table and saw a tall guy with brown hair and glasses get up to greet you.
"Hi, I'm Alex, nice to meet you," he said as you shook hands.
"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you introduced yourself before you sat down. Before you could even say much the button already spoke up.
"Do you guys goon at all?" it asked and you laughed.
"I don't know what that is," you admitted. "What is that? It sounds sexual," you joked.
"It isn't, I promise you," Alex said laughing and you couldn't tell whether he was being honest.
"Alex, why don't you explain gooning to (Y/N)?" the button asked.
"Okay, so do you know when you wake up in the morning and you're having a really tough day? So gooning is like that emotional state when you don't know what's going to happen, the uncertainty of it all," Alex explained and you were still sceptical.
"Suuure," you said.
"Do you watch Gary Vee at all?" Alex asked and the button turned red indicating that the both of you could now reject the other person.
"Not really," you said as you gently pressed the button with a sorry expression on your face. Alex quickly looked down at your fingers on the button and back up to your face and you immediately felt sorry. "I'm so sorry," you said with an apologetic smile.
"It's fine," Alex said as he got up from his chair.
"It was nice meeting you though," you offered. "This is awful," you said addressing the camera. "But I guess that's the format of the show," you said.
"You got it," the button said.
It wasn't long before the next guy was brought onto set. You got up to greet him.
"Hi, I'm (Y/N)," you said and shook hands with the brunette dressed in a grey suit.
"I'm James, my friends call me Juice," he said as you sat back down. "You can call me yours, that also works as well," he said and you laughed.
"Okay, what do you do?" you opened the conversation.
"Uhm, I'm a YouTuber," he said. "Tell me about yourself, what do you do, do you live here?" he asked. You hated the tell me about yourself phrase so you cringed a bit internally.
"Well, I don't live here, I don't even live in the US actually. I'm just visiting," you said. "And I do Social Media Marketing for work," you concluded.
"Alright, that's dope," James said.
"(Y/N), are you vibing?" the button asked.
"I'm always vibing," you offered.
"But are you vibing with James, is the question," the voice of the button pressed.
"Uhm," you started and were glad as the button turned red again and your hands flung forward in reflex to reject the guy. "I'm so sorry," you said again as your hand hit the button. James shrugged and got up. "Have a nice day," you said, head in your hands as you were embarrassed.
"(Y/N), why did you reject James?" the button asked.
"Uhm, I just think we weren't a match," you said.
"Alright, let's hope this next one is a match then," the button said before the next guy stepped onto set.
You got up from your chair again to greet him. He was a tall handsome blonde, scattered with some tattoos and a pair of glasses on his nose. You could tell from his looks alone that you were attracted to him. Immediately your heart started beating faster after you had just calmed down and gotten used to this situation.
"Hi, I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you," you introduced yourself again shaking the guy's hand.
"I'm Joost, nice to meet you," he said and you both sat down.
"Are you guys nervous?" the button asked before you could start the conversation.
"Yeah, man, I'm shitting my pants," Joost said and you laughed.
"Yeah, I'm shaking," you said and held up your hand for Joost to see.
"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one," Joost said. "Do you mind if I set the mood real quick?" Joost asked.
"Sure," you replied and Joost pulled something out of his jeans pocket. He placed an electric tealight on top of the table and turned it on.
"There we go," he said.
"Nice, I like it," you laughed. "I like your style," you complimented him.
"Oh, thanks, I like yours as well," he smiled, he was resting his head on his hands and you couldn't believe how cute he looked at that moment.
"So, what do you do?" you asked.
"I'm a musician," he said.
"Oh, nice. Isn't Alex also a musician?" you asked.
"So we're talking about other guys on our date?" Joost asked jokingly.
"I'm sorry," you said putting your hands in the air. "That was rude of me."
"No, it's fine," Joost said. "That's how we know each other actually," he explained.
"Oh, sick," you said. "Is there any of your songs that I might know?"
"Joost, will you sing a song for (Y/N)?" the button asked and laughed in embarrassment.
"Oh no, please no no," Joost begged laughing.
"No, please I wanna hear it," you said, your hands formed to a begging symbol.
"(Y/N), maybe you should hold Joost's hand to support him," the button chimed in.
"If you want," you said and put your hand beside the button.
"Alright," Joost said with a shy laugh and locked his fingers with yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact. The tattoos on his fingers looked divinely between your fingers you thought.
"Here it goes," Joost said and cleared his throat. You could tell that he was nervous, avoiding eye contact as he tried to mask his nervousness with a laugh. You squeezed Joost's hand in support and he smiled. Joost started singing: "Ring ding ding ding ding ding; Ring ding ding ding bem bem bem; Ring ding ding ding ding ding-"
"Oh, I think I know this one," you said as Joost continued singing.
"Ring ding ding ding baa baa; Ring ding ding ding ding ding; Ring ding ding ding bem bem bem," he sang with a big grin on his face.
"Wait, isn't this crazy frog?" you asked with a laugh.
"Yeah, it is," Joost said after he stopped.
"But that's not your-?" you asked confused.
"No, I wish," Joost joked.
Suddenly the button turned red again but you had no intention of pressing it this time so you just sat still. However, you could see Joost flinching as his hand left your grip but he stopped himself before actually hitting the button. Your mouth fell open in shock as you pointed at him.
"Did you just almost button me?" you asked laughing.
"No no no," Joost held up both of his hands. "I swear it wasn't my intention," he said. The button turned white again.
"Alriiiight," you said mistrusting.
"I thought you were gonna reject me so I thought I would have to push the button," Joost tried to explain. "I wouldn't reject you," he said.
"Whatever you say," you said and you narrowed your eyes at him. "Would you describe yourself as a generally mistrusting person?" you asked and Joost touched his chin as he pondered your question.
"Hm, I don't think I'm particularly mistrusting - just sometimes," he explained.
"Well, as you can see, you can trust me," you pointed out. "You, however," you pointed at him again. "have lost my trust, so you will need to gain it back," you said.
"I will try to make it up to you, I promise," Joost said.
"Do you guys find each other attractive at all?" the button chimed in.
"Jesus," you laughed, taken aback by the question. "Do you not have any decorum at all?" you asked.
"No, I don't," the button said. "Would you guys fuck?" the button pressed on in the blunt style it was known for.
You put your hands in front of your face in embarrassment. After you removed your hands again you looked Joost in the eyes and your heart fluttered. Of course, you would.
"Well, I mean I think you're attractive," you said timidly. "So, yeah," you said and shrugged your shoulders. Joost grinned.
"What about you, Joost?" the button asked.
"First off," Joost started with a big gesture and you wondered if this was the start of a thank you, but no. "I have the utmost respect for women," Joost said and put his hand on his chest over his heart "and I don't mean to objectify women," he continued and your heart was beating out of your chest. "but yeah, I would as well," Joost concluded and shrugged with a cheeky smile at you.
"Oooh, it's getting steamy in here," the button said.
"It's your fault," you pointed out.
"Can I get your number?" Joost said as he pulled out his phone and you giggled.
"Hey, this is not how this game works," the button protested.
"Yeah, you can have it," you said and started typing in your number in a new contact in Joost's phone.
"Alright, if you're gonna play by your rules," the button said. "I'm gonna go red for one last time and if you don't push me then you can go on a second date," the button explained and turned red.
You leaned back in your chair, crossed your arms and looked at Joost across from you. You were fully charmed by the man and you really hoped that he wasn't playing anything up for the cameras and that he was actually also into you. A few seconds of silence passed as you looked at each other before the button started lighting up in rainbow colours.
"Congrats, you've made it," the button said and Joost smiled at you.
You both got up from your chairs and you walked towards each other to hug. Joost was taller than you and as you engulfed each other in a deep hug his head could rest on top of yours.
"I can't wait for our date," Joost said.
"Same," you said. "Finally without all the cameras," you said as you pulled away and Joost looked at you with a knowing grin.
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
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tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
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pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
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bluebeary-jay · 1 year
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Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)
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Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)
Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)
Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)
Word count: 6.2K
A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕
“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”
Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”
“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.
“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”
“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”
“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”
“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”
A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”
Sweet girl.
Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.
If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.
Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.
It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.
But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.
Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.
Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.
“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.
“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.
Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.
He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.
And a lot younger than him.
He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…
He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.
Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.
Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.
“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.
“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”
You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.
“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”
The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.
“Sorry if that was too harsh–”
“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”
Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.
“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”
“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”
Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”
A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”
A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.
Fuck.
“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”
“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”
You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.
He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…
But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.
“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.
“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”
You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.
Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.
Idiot.
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Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.
He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.
He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.
The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.
But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.
So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.
“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”
You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.
It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.
So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.
His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?
And there was a lot to admire.
“You listenin’ to me?”
The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.
Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”
Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.
“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.
“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”
Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.
Lord have mercy.
“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”
Have fuckin’ mercy.
“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”
Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”
“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”
“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”
You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.
It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.
No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.
Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.
…right?
Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.
Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.
He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.
And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.
Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.
But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.
Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.
He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.
Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.
The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.
“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”
It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.
“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”
“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”
“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.
“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”
Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.
“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.
The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.
Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.
Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.
“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”
You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.
“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”
You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.
Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.
Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”
You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.
That is, until you spoke up.
“What did you say?”
…shit.
Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.
“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”
Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.
“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”
Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.
The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”
“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.
“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”
“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”
His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.
“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.
Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.
You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.
“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”
“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”
“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”
Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.
“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”
Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.
“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”
“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”
Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.
“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”
He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.
“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.
“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”
“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”
Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.
“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”
Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.
“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”
“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”
He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.
“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”
“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”
Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.
Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.
For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.
All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.
His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.
At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.
Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.
“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”
You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.
Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.
“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”
It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.
“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”
He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”
You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.
“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”
Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.
His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.
Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.
You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.
“Get back here.”
“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”
His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.
“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”
“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”
“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”
“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”
You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”
A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.
And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.
“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.
“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.
“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”
Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.
“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”
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Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.
Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.
1K notes · View notes
thepixelelf · 6 months
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warnings: coarse language. wc: 793
[the amnesia card always declines]
If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.
If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.
Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.
"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"
Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."
"He doesn't even follow me..."
"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.
You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."
"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"
An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."
"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"
"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.
Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."
"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."
Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"
"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."
"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--
Joshua?!
Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"
Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.
"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"
Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"
"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."
You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."
Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"
At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.
"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."
"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."
His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.
"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."
"Really? We're talking dreams now?"
He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."
"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"
Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."
Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.
"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."
Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.
When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.
"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"
Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."
You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.
Good, because it does.
"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"
526 notes · View notes
resi4skz · 6 months
Text
Title: My Nerdy Girl
Pairing: Chan x Reader
Warning: smut, fingering, kissing, hard thoughts, horny chan, all the shebang
MDNI !!!
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You know when you're the most popular guy in college and have girls asking for your phone number? And when you politely reject them because you have a huge crush on your good friend who also happens to be one of your classmates in one of your classes?
Yeah. That's me. I'm currently looking at her eat her lunch, sitting across from her best friend, Luna, who happens to be the girlfriend of my best friend, Han. Luna and Han met because of Y/N last year, during Han's birthday. Now, that was a fun day, even if it did end with Han and Luna going at it in a closet. Good thing no one interrupted them.
Right. Back to my point about Y/N. I don't know what it is about her. I feel attracted to her. I find her cute. Endearing. And the clothes, she's always wearing baggy clothes and it has made my mind to not shut up about the filthy images I've had and been having. Now, I'm not going to deny that I have eye fucked her many times because one could only imagine what's behind all those clothes. And those glasses she wears. Something about her being a nerd makes me want to scream her name every night with my hand down my pants. I've lost count of how many times I've jerked off to her.
"Bro, just tell her already," Han says, munching on snacks.
"Remind me why you're here instead of with your girlfriend?"
"Annoyed much?" He gives me a look.
"Much."
He throws a popcorn at me which I catch with my mouth. "I can't tell her."
"Why not?"
"Because. It's Y/N. I don't want to ruin our friendship," I replied, sighing as I sit in my chair. "Fuck, I want her so bad."
"Ugh," Han groans, rolling his eyes. "Why do I have to do everything myself?" I watch as he fishes out his phone and types something.
"What are you doing?"
"Just so you know," he says putting his phone down. "I'm only doing this because you're like my bro but just this once. The rest is on you." He gets up, pats my back and leaves giving me a peace sign.
What just happened?
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Fuck me. That's her? She follows the waiter to where our table is. Oh my god. She's wearing a black dress that goes to her mid thighs and she paired it up with suede high knee boots and beige cardigan. If it's one thing that makes me turn feral, it's women wearing black.
Correction: it's Y/N wearing black. And no glasses??
Fuck.
How am I going to survive this date?
As she approaches the table, I stand up pulling the chair out for her. "Thank you," she says as she takes a seat.
"My pleasure."
My pleasure indeed.
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We're both laughing as we walk side by side by the river. "No, you're telling me that Luna is Han's first girlfriend?" She asked, laughing.
"And the only one from the looks of it," I replied.
How I never knew she would be this fun to be with, I would have made a move much sooner. She places her hand on the railing in front of her, leaning against it as she sighs, looking at the river below us. "It's so pretty."
I glance at her, not being able to take it anymore. So I cage her in from the back, putting my hands on either side of her. I feel her stiffen as I lean in near her ear. "Very pretty. Like you."
She turns her head and her cheeks turn pink realizing the sudden close proximity we're in. Her eyes travel down to my lips then to my eyes. "So pretty," I whisper as I lean in towards her parted lips. "May I?" When she nods, I waste no time. I have dreamt of kissing this woman and to finally be able to do it doesn't even compare to my dreams.
I pull back, our breaths heavy. "Fuck, Y/N. Is it safe to say that I like you?"
She chuckles, fully turns around and wraps her arms around my neck. "Yes, because I like you too. Now kiss me."
"Fuck yes," I say and crash my lips on her. She tastes like cherries. But I break the kiss too soon. She chases my lips but I stop her, gazing into her lustful eyes. "Do you wanna come over at my place?"
She blinks at me, and I can see cogs turning in her brain. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this was too soon. I just want her so bad and I haven't been this fucking hard ever. As I slowly let her go, she fists my shirt yanking me back. I blink down at her, surprised. "Yes."
The ride to my apartment was....let's say it wasn't the best. I had to put all my focus on driving and going above the speed limit was an understatement. The amount of times I just wanted her to climb over and have her way with me.
Fuck.
I'm doomed.
And the fact that my apartment was on the eighth floor. The elevator ride, I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed Y/N against the wall, my face in the crook of her neck, drinking in her scent. I wanted to memorize it. She let out a moan as I sucked on her pulse point, making her whimper. My hands slither around her waist, travelling lower to grip both of her cheeks in my palms, pulling her closer to my body. I felt her arms wrap around my neck, tilted her head to the side for me to gain more access to skin.
I hooked her leg on my hip as my left hand went up her thigh, going beneath her dress to give her ass a tight grip. The material of my jeans rubbed against her clothed clit, and that was enough to set me into overdrive. "Chan..." Y/N whimpered as I sucked on her neck.
I wish I could listen to her whimpers and moans any day of the week. And every night, if she were up to it.
When I finally pulled away, I took a moment to stare at her dead in the eyes before leaning down to smash my lips to hers. She matched my energy as her hands travelled to my hair, her fingers raking through my black locks. Her small whimpers and moans spurred me on, her tongue swirled around mine and my cock grew hard at the sensation.
The dinging of the elevator brought me back to reality as I stepped back and we both walked off the machine. Her giggles are my favorite so far, as I pressed her against the wall, licking and biting along her neck as we tried to walk to my apartment. When we arrived, her hand intertwining with mine, I used my key to unlock the door and allowed Y/N to walk inside first. But as soon as the door closed, she was on me and I moaned into her mouth as I softly slammed her against the nearest wall.
Sliding my hands around her hips, I hoisted Y/N in my arms as her legs wrapped around my torso. Yet again, our lips moved in sync, never leaving, but quickly deepened as I walked over to my room. Upon entering, I head straight for the bed, Y/N’s back hits the soft mattress as I dive right back to her neck as hands fisted my hair giving it a light tug. "Fuck, do that again." She blinks twice before tugging at my hair, making my mind go fuzzy, unable to think straight. In return, I gripped her thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting her thighs as I grind my hips against hers.
Y/N moaned and grinds her hips back, her covered sensitive clit, giving her the right amount of friction. She squirmed beneath me as the wetness of her panties became uncomfortable. I kissed her deeply, pausing briefly to strip out of her dress, leaving her in her black thong. "No bra?" I asked, blinking at her perky breasts to which her cheeks turns pink. I admired her body, staring at every curve and dip in her skin, running my hands up and down her frame. "Fuck. You're gorgeous."
She had swollen lips as her chest rose and fell with each breath and I trailed my lips down her body. Starting at Y/N's neck, nibbling down her collarbone to the dip of her breasts, making sure to suck her sensitive buds. She moaned, once again running her fingers through my hair and pulling my face closer. Smiling into the kiss, I was starting to love hearing her moan and could listen to them all day. Heck, if it was up to me, I would want to keep her beneath the sheets, under me.
I continued trailing my tongue down the her torso. When I got to her black panties, I look up, and she nods for me to continue. I reached up and peeled the black item of clothing down her legs, throwing it behind me as it joins with the rest of of our clothing.
Pushing her legs open, I run my fingers through her folds before slipping my middle finger into her. “Such a pretty cunt.”
Her cheeks turn pink at the compliment. I watch as her back arches as I thrust my finger inside, knuckle deep, exploring her soft walls.
"Fuck, Channie.” she moaned, closing her eyes in pleasure.
I hovered over her lips as my fingers slowly worked in and out of her. She kept arching and writhing as I continued, mouth wide open as she let out silent moans.
“I can feel you tightening already.” But as I added a second finger, she couldn't contain herself. Her moans spilled out of her like she was a pornstar. Even when I kissed her, nothing stopped the volume she was outputting. “Fuck, I can't wait to fuck you."
Her walls clamp down on my fingers and I silently cursed at myself for not doing this sooner. “Channie…please…” The moans that escaped her mouth as they bounced off my room's walls. If the neighbors complain, I wouldn't give a fuck.
“Please, what?” I smirked watching her come undone at my pleasure. “I can’t hear you, baby.” I started moving my fingers faster in and out of her tight wet cunt that I had been dreaming about. I smile hearing her beg and plead. Gazing up at her lustfully, I smirk before taking her by surprise by leaning down and latching my mouth on her clit. She lets out a muffled moan, making me come up to see her biting the back of her hand.
Something came over me and I swat her ass cheek, making her yelp. "I want to hear you." She draws her hand back as I go back to my first mission and groan at the taste of her juices as they run down my chin. I hear her gasp before her hand grips the back of my head, fisting my hair and then pushes me deeper into her sopping pussy. "You taste so fucking good.”
“Don’t fucking stop,” Y/N moaned, as I run my fingers over her sensitive nub. “I’m so close.”
I couldn't say no to her so I grabbed the back of her knees, pushed her legs towards her chest, and began to devour her. I ran my tongue through her already soaking pussy before sticking it inside of her. Her thighs started shaking as I feel her first orgasm of the night approaching. And it was coming fast. "Cum on my face, baby. Can you do that for me?"
Her walls clenched around my fingers. She moaned my name as her orgasm hit her hard, she closed her thighs around my head as the aftershocks flowed through her body. I trailed kisses up her chest, sucking her sensitive nubs again before smashing my lips to hers.
As I shed my pants and boxers, I felt her watching me and saw her eyes widen at my rock hard cock. I quickly grabbed a condom, teared the corner of the foil with my teeth before putting it on. "Ready?" When she gives me a nod, I hover over her as I aligned myself at her enterance. She cries out as I slide in, all at once. I wanted to move and ruin her under my spell. But the look on her face made me stop. "Are you okay?"
She nods, opening her eyes. "I didn't expect you to be this big."
I laugh. "You've got a smart mouth. I wonder what else it can do."
"Why don't you find out?"
Fuck me. Drawing myself back, I thrust my cock inside her and threw her head back, arching her back as her walls pulsated wildly around me. “So fucking tight…” I hissed as I speed up the pace to the point where I'm hammering into her. Her glistening neck had me going crazy as I licked and nibbled at a spot and mumbled how she felt around me. She felt so tight, so warm, just right. “Babygirl, is this good? Do you want me to go harder, faster?”
I slowed down when she didn't respond, making her whine. I didn't want to pull out because I had wanted to be inside, nice and snug in her warmth. She was stretching well to my size, much to my surprise.
“Channie, if you don't fuck me in the next 5 seconds, I'm leaving you with blue balls,” Y/N stated, eyes glazed over with lust, and her cheek flushed.
"You asked for it," I said as I grabbed her hips and slammed my hips against her at an ungodly speed. She looked so sexy, so good, and willing to take what I had to offer. Fuck, her fucked out appearance was beyond my dreams. My thumb rubbed her sensitive clit making her mewl out loud.
“Oh, are you sensitive?” She nodded at my question. "I'm going to have so much fun with this later on but right now, I need you to come on my cock," I grunted, leaving a hickey on her neck.
“Ahhh…no wait…” She squirmed beneath me, and her hand went to grab my wrist. "Chan, ah, fuck, please." I noticed how she didn’t pull my hand away despite her pleads.
I could feel her walls clenching down around me. “Sorry baby,” I breathed out as the pressure in my balls kept rising. “You’re just too perfect for me."
“Fuck, Channie,” She came with a cry. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her body convulsing as she held me close.
I wasn't far behind. “Oh, fuck. I'm gonna cum. You're gonna make me cum. Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” I stilled as the hot sticky cum painted the inside of Y/N's tight cunt.
Our heavy breaths filled the room, bouncing off the walls as I blinked down at her, catching my breath. I pressed my lips to hers as her hands ran down my back. "You okay?"
"Yes," she nods, smiling.
"Wait here," I pull out when I've gone soft and retrieve a small towel from the bathroom. As I cleaned her off, her hand grabs mine and I glance up. "What is it? Are you hurt? Was I too rough?"
She giggles. Oh, I love her giggles. "I'm okay, Channie. In fact, I don't think I can walk." She grins and asks, "So does this mean I'll see you again?"
I smile. "Oh, you'll definitely be seeing me again. Because I intend on seeing you outside of my room." I laugh when she hits my arm playfully. "Y/N. You're mine."
She smiles, beaming at me. "I'm yours."
Settling down in the bed next to her, she snuggles up to me as I wrap my arm around her, kissing her forehead. It doesn't take too long for her to falls asleep, making me smile. "Goodnight, babygirl. Sweet dreams."
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A/N: i dont know what to do with myself now.....
720 notes · View notes
midnightanxietytm · 6 months
Note
I have a silly idea :3
imagine Mabel recounting the “accident with the leaf blower” to the reader, who then proceeds to make sure Ford isn’t around and tells her about the “kissing practice robot” incident from high school (which they witnessed) if you don’t know what I mean watch the land before swine commentary video
meanwhile Ford is down in the basement and suddenly stops what he’s doing and is like “I feel a disturbance in the force.”
A/N: Oh my god the kissing bot is so iconic, Ford is such a dork for that one lol. Hope I met your expectations with this one , its been a while since I've written something more lighthearted. Thanks for the request!
Contents: Mabel and Reader spilling tea, talks about kissing and romance and other sappy things. Ford x Reader more implied than anything. Short and fun.
Word count: 500
You know something is wrong because Mabel isn't smiling, Mabel is always smiling. She walks through the gift shop door and goes straight to sit on the counter next to you with a big sigh.
“Alright, spill it, sunshine.” You say with a small smile, putting down the book you'd been reading in order to give her your full attention.
She looks up at you with big round eyes. “I dunno… The date went well, he even kissed me!” You gasp in pretend shock and that gets a small giggle out of her. “I know right?! But like… It felt weird! It wasn’t bad! Just weird… maybe I need more practice…”
That makes you laugh as you prop yourself near the checkout; “Mabel, darling, kissing isn't really some equation you can figure out, maybe he just wasn't the right person.”
She lets out another big sigh, but you can tell is more resigned and hopefull this time. “Yeah, I guess… Besides, I really don't want another leaf blower accident.”
You laugh again, Mabel has that charm. “The what accident now?”
“Oh my gosh, I never told you?! It's so embarrassing; I was obsessed with that boy, who turned out to be a bunch of gnomes by the way, and I wanted our first kiss to be perfect, so I stuck a photo of him on a leaf blower on suction made and used it to practice.” When she said that, both of you started to laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes. “I-t left like this huge bruise on my face!”
You lean your head on the table, trying to stop laughing, but the mental image of Mabel with a leaf blower stuck to her face is too much.
“Oh gosh you're just like your grunkle!” You say in-between wheezing.
“Wait which one?” Mabel asked, rubbing the tears off her eyes.
“Okay so…” You began, looking around just to check Ford wasn’t near. “Your Grunkle Ford, back in high school he built this robot…” You look around again, holding back laughter and bringing down your voice. “It was this mannequin head with a rubix cube for a mouth and it had an alarm that wouldn’t stop playing until he…” And you did quotation marks with your hands. “...kissed it right.”
And you both started laughing all over again. “That's so dorky oh my gosh!”.
“Right!? He's such a nerd.” You say, and there's a softness to it that eases Mabel's worries about romance all together. “It fell from his locker once and it started blasting the darn alarm! He couldn’t go anywhere for a week after that without people mimicking kissing noises. It was gross.” You chuckle and sigh, sitting back down on your stool. “Compared to that, a leaf blower is no big deal!”
“Compared to what?” Says a third voice.
You and Mabel snap your heads, seeing Ford standing on the doorway behind the vending machine.
Crap.
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writingforstraykids · 8 months
Note
I feel kind of angsty today and I’m in the mood to just read something that makes me cry so hear me out.Minho/Chan or Felix argue with you because you feel neglected and such in because they are so busy and barley make time for you and you just want to feel a little affection and they are also upset because they are stressed and kind of blow up and say stuff they shouldn’t have and evereyone is upset.Maybe they solve it (or they don’t if you want to be mean).But I really need something gut wrenching.
(Also don’t rush and take your time with writing this if you even want to<3)
-🎀
I've decided to be extra mean and make this a poly mess so you have all of the boys in it😂😂 I hope you like it and I don't make you cry too hard...also if you ever wanna talk, just let me know hun🥺🖤
You don't need me
Pairing: Minchanlix x femReader | Minho x Chan x Felix x femReader
Word Count: 2391
Warnings/Tags: angst, argument, insecurities, feeling neglected, feeling left out, loneliness, chan's a little stressed meanie, Minlix is...idk🤣
bold indicates English
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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Minho races down the stairs, cursing quietly as he drops his keys. He quickly bends down to pick them up, and his glasses, which he only quickly pushed up his nose before, fall onto the floor.
"Are you okay?" you ask, amused.
"Obviously not," he says, clearly annoyed.
"Well, can I help?" you ask gently, and Minho firmly shakes his head, grabbing his sneakers.
"I'm late; there's nothing you can do about that," he tells you, and you're about to answer, but he cuts you off. "Yongbok! I swear if you don't move your ass down here in five seconds, I'll drive without you!" he yells upstairs, making you flinch at the volume of his voice.
"Is Channie already-?"
"Don't think he slept here tonight," Minho shakes his head and grabs his bag. "FELIX!"
"Minho, for fucks sake!" Felix yells back and appears at the top of the stairs. "I swear, this man is driving me crazy. As if those five seconds would make any difference at this point, my God. It's Hyunjin, he won't kill us!" he curses as he walks downstairs, his hair messily falling around his head.
"Don't you start talking English now and think I don't know that means you're talking shit about me," Minho tells him, throwing his sneakers at him. "Put those on, we're late."
"Well, if someone wouldn't have taken so long waking up today," Felix comments and rolls his eyes at him. He looks up, startled, as you carefully brush his hair back for him, trying to fix the mess. "Not now, Y/nnie, we have to leave," he gently shakes you off.
You pull back your hand and nod gently, glancing at Minho, who's grabbing his stuff and unlocking the door. "Bye, see you later!" he shouts and waves you, stepping outside. Only two seconds later, he's back. "Felix, I swear I will kick you."
"Fuck off," Felix curses under his breath and grabs his things, waving at you and slipping outside as well. The door falls closed, and you're standing still for a moment.
"Well, good morning and goodbye to you too. I love you too," you whisper to yourself and sigh softly. Turning around you spot their packed lunch boxes still on the table. "Shit," you curse and throw your head back, frustrated. You know they barely make time to eat unless you made it. Well, maybe you could visit them later, get your kiss, and check on Chan.
You stand still in the suddenly very empty house and try to remember the last time they were all home and you've spent some quality time together. It feels like months and you soon realize it has been. One of them has always been either working or not even in the country. Sometimes it really doesn't feel like you're living with your three boyfriends but some roommates who stop by now and then.
"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic," you shake your head and chew on your lower lip. You don't know when the last time was you had breakfast all together, you got a kiss goodbye from all of them or they came back in time for dinner. Needless to say, no one has properly touched you in weeks as well. Were you that easy to forget? Are you just another assignment to get done on their daily to-do lists? Something they could just reschedule to another day if they can't make time for it?
Sighing softly you make your way upstairs and rummage through your closet, searching for a nice outfit. You find a cute summer dress they all love and decide on that. After a quick shower, you fix your hair and make yourself presentable.
-
Only a little later, you're walking down the hallway to their practice room and gently knock at the door, letting yourself inside. Minho demonstrates some steps as Felix and Hyunjin watch him closely and try to mirror his movements. Felix messes up a step, and Minho starts laughing at him, chasing him through the room. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Yongbokie, come on," he giggles softly, and Felix tries to squirm away from him.
"I'm sorry, hyungie," he laughs, eyes shining bright. "I promise I'll do better."
"Once you're done flirting, we could continue?" Hyunjin groans playfully annoyed.
Minho turns with Felix in his hold, and they face you. Surprise laces their features. "Y/n? What are you doing here?" Minho asks confused.
"Oh, you forgot your lunch today, and I didn't know how long you'd be at the company," you tell them, and Minho nods gently.
"Thanks," he tells you and lets go of Felix, walking over to his phone.
Felix stretches tiredly and watches Minho as he scrolls through his phone. "You wanna go again?"
Minho glances at his watch before nodding. "We should. We have like an hour before the rest join us." You nod gently to yourself and put their lunch down on the bench next to their stuff. "Chan's at the studio," he tells you before turning the music back on.
You watch them stunned as they continue practicing and don't really notice the compassionate smile Hyunjin gives you. Your throat tightens, and you quickly make your way outside. You're clearly not needed here.
You knock at the door, and Jisung opens the door, smiling at you brightly. "Hey, Y/n," he beams at you and pulls you into a hug. "Chan hyung, look who's here."
"Ji, I told you no visitors right now," he groans and pulls off his headphones with a heavy sigh. He spots you in the door and nods. "Oh, hi."
"Hi," you say quietly, holding on tightly to the box in your hand. "I just wanted to bring you your lunch. I won't disturb you for long."
"Ah, okay," he says and gestures toward the small table next to the door. "Just put it there, I'll eat later. Thanks, Y/n."
"You're welcome," you nod and are about to leave again but hesitate for a moment.
"Anything else?" Chan asks, not even looking at you.
"Will you be home tonight?" you ask gently, and he raises his eyebrows, still not looking over.
"Why?"
"Because you weren't yesterday," you say and see Jisung's confused frown at that.
"Hyung, you promised," Changbin sighs from his spot on the sofa, rolling his eyes at you in secrecy.
"Y/n, we've been over this before. If I get done in time, I'll be there; if not, then not," he announces, almost a little annoyed.
You scoff at him and put down the box heavily. "Sorry for asking, I guess," you spit out and open the door, stopping when you hear him groan.
"Stop being so pushy, my god," Chan rolls his eyes and looks at you for the first time today. "I'll be there. Are you happy now?"
"You know what?" you ask lowly. "You can stay here for another night. It makes no difference if you guys are there or not, you only have eyes for each other or work. Sometimes I wonder why my three roommates even need me."
"What the fuck did you just say?" Chan asks quietly and stares at you.
"You fucking heard me," you spit out with tears burning in your eyes. "At this rate, I'm just part of the interior. You don't say good morning, you don't say goodnight, you're not home for dinner, you're not there. And if you are you're busy with work or talk to Minho and Felix only. You don't need me right now, and that fucking hurts, Chan."
"Okay, that's enough delusional behavior for one day," Chan gets up with a groan and shakes his head at you. "We'll talk about this tonight, but right now, I really don't have time for this."
"Don't bother," you shake your head at him, heart breaking. "I'll take myself back out."
"Hyung," Changbin sighs a little, but Chan ignores him.
"Come on, Y/nnie, I'll take you to your car, yeah?" Jisung says gently and wraps his arm around you, pulling you outside. "He doesn't mean it. He's being dumb."
"Yes, he does; they all do," you sniffle, and Jisung frowns at you.
"What do you mean?" he asks worriedly.
"It's been like this for weeks now. They all rush out of the house and act like I don't exist anymore," you tell him, hot tears falling down your cheeks. "I know they're stressed; I know they have a lot to do, but is it really too much to ask?"
"No, Y/nnie, it isn't," he shakes his head and pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm sure what you're describing is true. They sometimes forget everything around them when things here get rough. I'm sorry, hun," he says and soothingly rubs your back. He thinks for a moment before shaking his head and gently patting your back. "Come on, they'll never learn if they don't see what it does to you."
"No, Ji, they're busy-" you protest through tears.
"I don't care," he shakes his head and leads you down the hallway. He rips open the door to the room and pulls you with him to Minho's phone, turning the music off. "Hyunjin, you come with me. You two have something to fix here."
Minho blinks at him, confused, and his face falls, seeing you crying in his arms. "Y/nnie, kitten," he says worriedly and quickly makes his way over. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asks gently, cupping your face and searching your eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says softly.
"Y-You don't need me," you hiccup, and Minho frowns at you.
"What do you mean?" he asks, confused, and Felix steps next to you, gently rubbing your lower back.
"Babe?" Felix asks worriedly as you don't answer.
"Go get Channie," Minho tells him, eyes widening as you furiously shake your head. Chan is usually the best to comfort you when you are really upset. "No? Why, kitten? What happened?"
"Channie s-says I'm delusional," you sob quietly as Minho sits down on the bench and pulls you into his lap.
"What?" Felix asks, confused. "Did you two get into a fight?" he asks, sitting down next to the two of you.
You bury your face in Minho's chest, so desperate for such a simple gesture. Sobs shake your body as you tell them about what happened with Chan and how neglected you felt during those past weeks. It all flows freely now, and they both listen quietly, not interrupting you once. Minho's hand rubs your back soothingly, and Felix fondles your hair gently.
"Oh kitten, I'm so sorry," Minho apologizes sincerely once you're done. "I had no idea you were suffering that much because of us."
"You're right, babe, we're so busy we sometimes forget about you or act a little harsh," Felix nods guiltily and leans down to kiss your head. "I'm so sorry we made you feel like that. You don't deserve that one bit, my dear."
"I know I'm being dramatic," you sniffle into Minho's shirt.
"No, you're not," he shakes his head and rests his head against yours. You really aren't. I didn't even say goodbye properly today. Or good morning," he says, his voice laced heavily with guilt. "And...I should've told you how beautiful you look today the minute you stepped inside."
You giggle sadly and pull back. "Yeah?"
"Mhm, our pretty girl," Felix adds fondly as Minho wipes your cheeks.
"We love you so much, even if we act like idiots sometimes," Minho promises and kisses your forehead.
"I love you guys too," you tell them with a sad little smile.
"I'll go and get Channie, okay?" Felix asks softly, and you nod timidly. He giggles at the comment Minho makes and quickly makes his way to the studio. He doesn't knock at the door and steps inside. "Channie babe, we need you."
"Not now, Lix," Chan shakes his head, writing down some things for Jisung.
"Minho said if you don't move your ass over there in two minutes top he won't have sex with you for the next three months. Our tour comes up, you don't wanna risk that," Felix says with a straight face, making Changbin and Jisung crack up.
Chan glances up at him suspiciously and sees Felix isn't joking. "Oh my fucking God, fine!"
Felix walks next to him and glances at Chan thoughtfully. "Push the group back for a moment, yeah? Stray Kids doesn't matter now, she does."
Chan's face falls a little and he straightens up as they reach the door. "Yeah, okay," he says quietly and steps inside with him. You're curled up in Minho's lap on the floor by now as he's playing with your hair. Tear streaks paint your cheeks, your eyes are reddish, and you're sniffling a little. "Baby, I'm sorry," Chan sighs and gets down on the floor next to you. "I'm stressed out, I didn't sleep last night, and I took it out on you. I'm an idiot, please forgive me?" he asks guiltily and hesitantly takes your hand. He must've really hurt you if you went to Minho and Felix about it. You usually prefer to settle arguments privately.
"It's not just you," Minho shakes his head, and Felix sums it up for him. Chan nods along, and his heart gets heavier with every word leaving his boyfriend's lips.
"Oh, Y/nnie baby," he whispers with tears in his eyes. "Can I give you a hug?" You nod timidly and climb off Minho's lap and into his arms instead. Chan pulls you in tight, burying his face in your shoulder. You relax in his hold and close your eyes. No matter how mad or hurt you were, you would never deny one of Chan's healing long hugs. "I'm so sorry, you're right, we've messed up big time. I love you so much, yeah? You're so beautiful and kind, and I could never stop loving you, baby. Never. I will do better, I promise."
"I love you too," you whisper and exhale softly, your heart feeling a lot lighter now that you've told them all. Minho and Felix join your hug and kiss your hair. "You'll be home tonight?" you ask timidly.
"Yeah, we'll all be home," Chan assures you kindly and squeezes you.
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MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):
@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland
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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months
Text
A Family at Your Side
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!paramedic!fem!Buckley!reader
Summary: You, Evan Buckley's sister, are a paramedic with the 118. When you're called to a fire, it quickly becomes a crime scene when someone opens fire on you. Your boyfriend Tim Bradford and your fire station family have to work together to save you.
Warnings: angst, fluff, injuries (r is shot), depiction of arson/shooting, lots of teasing. [While r is Evan's sister, I don't put anything specific in here past some teasing, so it could be viewed as adoptive or some other relationship dynamic!]
Word Count: 2.6k+ words
A/N: I've only seen a few episodes of 911 (season 1), so I hope my characterization of them isn't completely terrible. I really like this dynamic though; it's so fun and complex!!
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
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“There’s no escape,” you whisper under your breath, desperately wishing for some relief.
“Oh, c’mon, we’re not that bad,” Buck replies, knocking his fist against your shoulder. “We’re better than the cop.”
“In every way!” Hen adds, smiling at you. “Why you started dating him is one of the two things I will never understand about you.”
“What’s the other?” you ask.
“How you-“ she turns to point to Buck as she continues, “and him are related. He can’t shut up and you can’t make eye contact.”
“I got all the good genes,” Buck explains, smiling.
“Yet none of the smarts,” Hen argues, pressing her lips together as she tilts her head.
“Or looks,” Nash calls from his place in the kitchen. “Now if you’re done bothering her, can someone set the table?”
You stand to help, and Nash points a spatula at you as he says, “Not you. You do it all the time. Make your brother do something for once.”
“She has no power over me!” Buck yells dramatically. “I have leverage. Like that time she-“
Chimney hits the back of his head, telling him to stop, as your chin drops to your chest. The alarm goes off before you can wonder which embarrassing story he was planning to use, and as you rush to the ambulance with Hen, you’re glad Chimney stopped him. Their attention was bad enough without him divulging your personal information.
✯✯✯✯✯
“This is a suspected arson, meets the MO of a few previous fires. We need that fire out before the police get here so they can get in,” Nash announces.
“Anyone inside?” Hen asks.
As Nash answers, someone screams in pain, and you look at Nash. He hesitates before nodding, and you grab your bag before running into the clear side of the duplex.
“Los Angeles Fire and Rescue,” you call. “Is anyone in here?”
“Yes! I need help!” a man yells from the back of the dwelling.
Rushing through, you radio to the rest of the 118 that you’re looking for an injured resident.
“We can’t get the fire under control,” Buck answers, his voice tight. “You need to get out of there.”
“I see him. Keep trying, Buck. Sir, are you injured?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he answers shakily. “I smelled the smoke and- and I have asthma, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and I was scared to leave.”
“Okay, take a deep breath, sir. I’m a paramedic, so I’m going to get you out of here and then we’ll make sure your airways are clear. Do you understand?”
He nods but refuses when you gesture for him to stand.
“It’s on fire!” he argues.
“Sir, we have a clear track to the front door, but the fire will spread with the Santa Anas blowing outside, so we need to go now,” you explain.
Something crashes outside, and you pull the man to his feet.
“Get out of there! If I don’t see you in ten seconds, I’m coming in after you,” Buck radios.
“We’re coming, Buck,” you answer, pulling the man along.
More sirens become audible as you reach the door, the fire much closer to the front of the building. Several police cars approach, and you breathe a sigh of relief. The man stops, and you turn toward him quickly.
“Sir, we’re almost there,” you remind him, pointing to the ambulance.
“He’s still out here!”
“Who?” you ask, your voice quieting again as the adrenaline wears off.
“The man who set the fire!”
You freeze, a sudden cold rush contrasting the heat from the fire.
“Where is he?”
“I- I don’t know.”
A shot rings through the air, and you drop to the small porch, pulling the man behind the railing beside you. The fire is moving toward you, but with no idea of where that shot came from, you can’t move and risk your life and this man’s.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Everybody down!” Nash yells, ducking behind the truck.
“7-Adam-19, shots fired at my location. LAFD 118 and LAPD in need of backup, dispatch air support for possible sniper,” Tim calls, kneeling behind his shop before rushing to the fire truck.
“She’s still up there,” Buck calls, squatting behind the ambulance with Hen.
“Who?”
Buck and Nash look at each other and then Tim, and he immediately knows they’re talking about you.
“Backup is on the way, but we can’t do anything yet,” Tim explains.
“Bradford, the fire is spreading, we can’t stop it with this wind!” Nash adds.
“Or a sniper taking shots at us!” Buck yells. He drops his head to his radio to ask, “Sis, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s going on?”
“Bradford and Thorsen are here, they called for backup but we can’t do anything until-“
Another shot cuts him off, and you move back against the railing.
“Talk to me!” Buck yells into his receiver.
“I’m okay, Buck,” you reply quietly. “Our- uh- our guy passed out after working himself up, so…”
“He’s not our primary concern right now,” Buck responds.
“Careful,” you warn, your voice nearly inaudible.
“No, I happen to agree,” Nash adds to the conversation.
Tim pulls Chimney’s radio from his chest to say, “I do too. You take care of you, and we’ll worry about him when we can get up there.”
The radio stays quiet, and Tim looks around the end of the truck. He can’t see you, but knowing you’re out of sight and safe makes him feel better.
“Uh, Tim?” Aaron asks. “Eyes on our shooter.”
Tim turns quickly, looking up. He sees the end of the rifle, and when it lowers suddenly, he doesn’t think before yelling at you.
“Stay down!” he screams.
You drop lower, your face to the concrete as the shooter releases several rounds, making a line of bullet holes across the front of the duplex. The fire is moving slowly, but it’s still closing in on your hiding place.
The cold feeling hasn’t gone away, and as you look at the unconscious man at your side, you can only hope to make it out alive.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Where is your backup?” Buck asks Tim, leaning forward to look past Hen.
“Still a minute out. Aaron and I are going to go through that building, find a way to the roof,” Tim answers.
“Be careful. We all care about the woman stuck back there,” Nash reminds him.
Aaron and Tim nod before moving between the shop and the fire truck, rushing to the main entrance and entering quietly.
“Go left, I’ll go right,” Tim whispers.
As they move up the stairs, Tim hears their backup and the airship approaching. He hopes that the shooter doesn’t do anything stupid when he sees the police and gestures for Aaron to go faster.
“LAPD, put the weapon down!” an officer demands over the speaker of the airship.
“Thorsen, go!” Tim yells, kicking the door open to walk onto the roof.
The man turns the rifle up, shooting toward the helicopter before it moves. Aaron and Tim approach from different sides, and when the gun suddenly drops and the man begins emptying his ammunition toward you, Tim doesn’t hesitate to shoot.
“7-Adam-19, suspect is down,” Aaron radios. “Tim, go get her.”
Nodding, Tim stands, rushing down the stairs and out into the road. The fire has worsened, and the 118 is still in place.
Evan sees Tim and clenches his jaw, stepping toward Tim to yell, “This is your fault! It’s all on you!”
 Tim’s brows furrow, looking to Nash for more information.
“She’s, uh- she’s not responding to the radio calls, and we can’t get up there until we get part of the fire out, enough to get through with our gear,” Nash explains.
“You should have brought enough backup to begin with or gone up there sooner!” Buck continues.
“You think I don’t know that?” Tim snaps. “But she was already stuck when I got here, so work on getting to her and getting her safe, and then you can get mad at me!”
“And if it’s too late?” Buck demands, his chest heaving in anger.
Tim looks away, and Buck moves forward quickly, causing Nash and Chimney to lunge forward and hold him back.
“I’ll kill you if we’re too late!”
“Buck!” Tim yells, walking to him. “I know this is my fault and if she doesn’t make it, her blood is on my hands. I’m sorry, I really am, but there is nothing I can do now except keep people back so you can get this fire out and find out if- and make sure she is okay.”
Buck relaxes slightly, pushing Chimney and Nash off of him.
“Let’s get her out!” Nash calls, directing everyone to their positions.
✯✯✯✯✯
The man beside you groans as you tug him further against the wall. You’re caged in against the fire, and you dropped your radio, watching it burn as you kept your head down.
When water sprays onto your face, a steady stream coming from the street, you force a smile, hoping to get out, get warm, and hug your brother and Tim for as long as you can before they make you shy away from them. You love them for it, you remember, reminding yourself to think happy thoughts.
“Where’s the ambulance?” the man slurs before coughing.
“Just a minute, sir, keep your head down and breathe.”
The fire is driven back by two hoses, and when several feet are clear on the side of the railing, people begin yelling.
“Sis! Can you hear me?” Buck asks loudly, appearing in his turnout gear a moment later.
“Get him to the ambulance,” you reply, standing shakily as he pulls the man over his shoulder.
You walk into the small yard, looking for Tim. The persistent cold feeling is just beginning to concern you, and when you grow dizzy and stop in the yard, you realize that something is wrong. Raising your hands to press against your stomach, you begin to run through a mental list of potential injuries.
“Hey, hey, gorgeous, c’mon, we got to get back,” Tim calls as he jogs to your side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, ducking away from his hands on your face.
“Good,” Tim replies, laying his hand on your upper back and directing you to the curb.
“You got lucky,” Buck grumbles, joining your other side across from Tim.
“We all did our jobs, Buck, she’s safe, just leave it,” Tim says lowly.
“No thanks to you!” Buck responds, stepping forward.
You recognize the look in his eyes, an anger he seems to reserve for you. Without thinking, you move a hand from your navel and push it against Buck’s chest to stop him. He and Tim look at your bloody hand before yelling your name as you tip back.
Buck catches you, lowering you onto the grass as he rips your shirt open.
“Hen!” he screams, a pained, guttural sound that draws the attention of the entire 118.
Hen sees you on the ground, unconscious between Buck and Tim, and rushes to you, her bag thrown over her shoulder.
“GSW,” she decides quickly, looking at your stomach, a mess of tattered fabric and blood. “Roll her over, carefully.”
Tim keeps his hands on your side, helping Buck tip you onto one side as Hen runs her hand down your spine.
“No exit wound, we need to go. Now.”
Leaning back, Tim gives Buck room to lift you, running to the ambulance as fast as possible.
“Are you coming?” he yells, raising his arms as he looks at Tim.
“Go!” Nash, Chimney, Aaron, and newly arrived Nolan yell.
Tim nods, rushing into the ambulance and sitting as it lurches into motion.
“I didn’t mean it,” Buck says, looking at you while he speaks to Tim. “It’s not your fault, but I can’t- I can’t lose her.”
“You won’t. We won’t,” Tim promises.
Hen works quickly, muttering under her breath about needing your help.
✯✯✯✯✯
When you open your eyes, you first notice the unmistakable feeling of someone looking at you and touching your side, a gentle touch as fingers drag up and down your skin.
“Is he okay?” you ask, blinking against the harsh light above you.
“The man from the duplex?” Buck asks. “Yeah, he’s fine. Had an asthma attack and then a few panic attacks, but he’s good. You- you got shot and didn’t tell anyone.”
Tipping your head down, you’re surprised he’s standing at the end of your bed. This means the fingers on your exposed side belong to…
“Tim,” you whisper, glancing at him.
“You scared us, baby,” he replies softly, spreading his warm hand over your skin.
He smiles when your muscles tense beneath him, but it quickly disappears when you groan in pain.
“I didn’t mean not to tell you,” you say quietly, pinching the blanket between your fingers. “I didn’t know I got shot.”
“That’s kinda- that’s pretty epic, really,” Buck says, laying his hand on your foot. “Makes a good party story.”
“I don’t go to parties,” you grumble.
“I mean for me,” he replies happily.
“Are you two fighting?” you ask, looking between them.
“No,” they answer together, both squeezing you reassuringly.
“We were scared and upset, didn’t have anywhere else to take it out,” Buck explains with a shrug. “He’s just lucky you stopped me from hitting him. I would’ve removed him from active duty for six weeks minimum.”
“You wish,” Tim scoffs.
“Stop,” you say, chuckling when they look shocked at your bold demand. “Please.”
“You were in surgery for a long time,” Tim tells you. “How’s your pain?”
“It’s fine, manageable. I mean, I can feel it now, but it’s not too bad.”
You glance down, your brows furrowing as you realize why you could feel Tim’s skin directly on yours.
“Wondering where your hospital gown is?” Tim asks, a smile you know all too well on his face. “I put in a special request.”
“Gross. That’s my sister,” Buck interjects. When you look at him with wide eyes, he sighs and fills you in: “They couldn’t get to your stomach well enough with one on. If you want to cover up, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
“It’s okay,” you reply, gently tugging the band of your sports bra down.
“More than okay,” Tim says, quiet enough that Buck can’t hear.
You look away quickly, and Buck makes a ‘tsk’ sound.
“The shooter is in custody,” Tim says, giving you a break from his ‘abuse.’
“Will I have to testify or anything?” you whisper.
“No,” Tim and Buck answer together.
Buck pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding before shaking your ankle, his hand still resting on you.
“I have to go, we’ve got a call, but when we’re done, everyone wants to come by,” he says.
You nod. “Be careful. I love you.”
“Love you, sis!”
Looking at Tim’s chest rather than his face, he takes the chance to tease you. “Maybe you should get a shirt before your team gets here.”
“Get out,” you mumble. “Or give me yours.”
“Whoa! You get shot once and become a whole new person.”
“Wasn’t worth it.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Tim replies, taking your hand. “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything to keep it from happening.”
“’S not your fault.”
Turning your attention back to the blanket, Tim asks, “You get this shy with your patients?”
“No. But they’re not as pushy.”
“Hey,” Tim calls, using his hand to gently turn your chin toward him. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I love you, too. Thanks for being here through all of it.”
“Try to get rid of me.”
“I do. You never listen.”
Tim laughs, loud and happy, and you smile, turning your face into his arm where it holds your hand, glad he’s at your side, and you have a whole team, a family, to be with you through everything.
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slasherscream · 9 months
Note
I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.
Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.
(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)
Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.
Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.
A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!
WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff
It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.
Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!
Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 
It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.
The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 
And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 
“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 
“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.
You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 
A beat of silence.
You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 
“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 
“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 
“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 
“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”
“You just don’t get it-”
“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 
“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 
He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 
Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.
There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 
“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 
Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.
Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.
When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”
“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 
“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 
She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.
“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 
She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 
⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊
You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 
She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 
Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 
“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”
“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 
“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 
“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.
“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 
“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 
Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”
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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 
He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 
He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  
Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 
He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 
(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 
“Do what?” 
“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 
You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 
He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 
Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 
So-
-behind it is. 
Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.
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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.
During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.
Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.
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Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 
You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 
And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 
Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 
Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.
He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 
He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 
Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 
He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.
“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 
“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 
“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 
“Finish up what?” You ask.
“I still gotta put these away.” 
You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”
Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 
A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.
“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 
When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)
“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 
“Jordan.” 
“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 
You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 
“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 
“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 
“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 
You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 
Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.
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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 
You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 
“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 
“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 
“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 
“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 
“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 
“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”
“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 
“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 
Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 
Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”
“Three years.”
“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 
“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”
“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 
Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.
“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 
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You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 
The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 
You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”
Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”
“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.
“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 
“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 
Your face softens. “Baby…”
“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”
“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 
You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 
“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.
“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”
“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 
“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 
He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 
“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”
“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 
You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 
“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 
“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.
“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 
“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 
You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.
“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 
“I’d do it before you got the chance.”
You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 
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The Dry Spell
It's fairly common knowledge that first responders work long shifts together, often 24 or 48 hours at a time. This kind of togetherness builds strong bonds and makes it nearly impossible to keep secrets. Which was why the entire station seemed to know that Buck and Tommy were in a bit of a dry spell right now.
Buck was in the locker room, changing after a particularly grueling shift. He didn't mean to start venting, but Hen had asked how things were going at home, and before he knew it, he was spilling his guts.
"I mean, it's been over 3 weeks," Buck said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And yes, partially it's been us having opposite schedules, but it hasn't only been that. It's just...3 weeks. I'm starting to go crazy."
Hen nodded sympathetically, leaning against the lockers. "That's rough, Buckaroo. Have you talked to Tommy about it?"
Buck sighed, closing his locker with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. "I've tried, but every time I bring it up, something comes up. A call, Emmett needs something, one of us is too tired... It's like the universe is conspiring against us."
He lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. "And the worst part? I'm turned on like, all the time now. It's getting ridiculous. Yesterday, I got distracted during dinner because Tommy reached across the table for the salt. The salt, Hen!"
Hen tried to suppress a smile, but failed. "Oh, Buck. You've got it bad."
"I know," Buck groaned. "It's like I'm a teenager again. I can't focus. Every little thing Tommy does is suddenly the hottest thing I've ever seen. This morning, he was just getting ready for his shift, putting on his flight suit, and I nearly lost it."
"Maybe you two need to schedule some alone time," Chimney chimed in as he walked into the locker room. "You know, make it a priority."
Buck flushed red. "Chim! How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to know you're about to combust," Chimney teased. "Seriously though, Buck. Talk to your husband. I'm sure he's feeling it too."
Buck nodded, trying to ignore the embarrassment creeping up his neck. "Yeah, you're right. I just... I miss him, you know? Not just the physical stuff, but the intimacy, the connection. Though right now, I wouldn't say no to the physical stuff either." Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and a sly grin spread across his face. "Wait a minute, Chim. Does this mean you're offering to babysit Emmett?"
Chimney's eyes widened as he realized the implication of his advice. "I, uh..."
Hen burst out laughing. "Oh, he's got you there, Chim! You can't give advice without being willing to back it up."
Chimney sighed dramatically, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, fine. Maddie and I can take Emmett for a night. But I don't want to hear any details, got it?"
Buck's face lit up. "Chim, you're a lifesaver! I promise, no details. Just... thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," Chimney waved him off, but he was smiling. Just make it count, Buckaroo."
Buck's blush deepened, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Finally, a chance for some alone time with Tommy. Now he just had to make it through his shift without spontaneously combusting at the thought.
It took everything in Buck's power not to speed home. As soon as he walked through the door, he called out, "Tommy!"
"In the kitchen, babe," Tommy's voice replied.
Buck rushed into the kitchen, his eyes wild with excitement. "Pack Emmett a bag. We gotta go!"
Tommy turned from the stove, spatula in hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Slow down. What are you talking about?"
"Sex," Buck blurted out, his cheeks flushing. "Lots of sex. So much sex."
Tommy's eyebrows shot up, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Interesting, but I'm still not sure I follow."
Buck took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to explain coherently. "Okay, so I may have been venting at work about our... dry spell. And Chimney offered to babysit Emmett for the night so we could have some alone time."
Understanding dawned on Tommy's face, followed quickly by a mischievous grin. "Oh, I see. And you're in such a hurry because...?"
"Because," Buck said, stepping closer to Tommy, his voice dropping low, "I've been going crazy thinking about you all day. Do you know how distracting you are? This morning, watching you put on your flight suit... I nearly lost it right there."
Tommy's eyes darkened with desire. "Is that so?" he murmured, setting down the spatula and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist.
"Mhmm," Buck hummed, leaning in for a kiss. "I've been imagining all the things I want to do to you once we're alone."
Just as their lips were about to meet, they heard the patter of little feet.
"Daddy! Papa!" Emmett's voice called out.
They broke apart, both chuckling but with heat still in their eyes. "I'll go pack his bag," Tommy said, pressing a quick kiss to Buck's cheek. "You go tell him he's having a sleepover with Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chim."
As Tommy headed upstairs, Buck called after him, "I'll text Maddie to pick him up. The sooner they get here..."
Tommy paused at the top of the stairs, throwing a smoldering look over his shoulder. "The sooner we can pick up where we left off."
Buck grinned, anticipation coursing through him. "Exactly."
As they separated to prepare for their evening, both men felt a surge of excitement. Buck quickly sent a text to Maddie, asking if they could pick Emmett up as soon as possible. Then he went to find their son, his mind already racing with thoughts of what the night would bring once they were alone.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Buck opened it to find Maddie, Chimney, and Jee-Yun.
"Uncle Buck!" Jee exclaimed, hugging his legs.
"Hey there, munchkin," Buck said, ruffling her hair. "Thanks for coming so quickly, guys."
Chimney raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face. "No problem. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting."
Buck felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, Tommy appeared with Emmett and his overnight bag.
As they said their goodbyes to Emmett, promising to pick him up tomorrow afternoon, Buck and Tommy exchanged heated glances. The moment the door closed behind Maddie, Chimney, and the kids, Tommy turned to Buck, his eyes dark with desire.
"Now," Tommy said, his voice low and full of promise, "where were we?"
Buck lunged forward, capturing Tommy's lips in a searing kiss. Their bodies pressed together, and both men groaned at the contact, feeling the evidence of each other's arousal.
"Tommy," Buck gasped, breaking the kiss. "I need you. It's been too long."
Tommy's hands roamed Buck's back, pulling him even closer. "I know, baby. I've missed you too."
As they stumbled into their bedroom, Buck couldn't take his eyes off Tommy. The need to touch, to feel, to taste was overwhelming. Without breaking eye contact, Buck slowly sank to his knees in front of Tommy, his intentions clear.
Tommy's breath hitched, his eyes dark with desire. "Evan," he breathed, voice rough with want.
Buck's hands trembled as he reached for Tommy's belt. "Please," he murmured, "I need this. Need you."
Tommy cupped Buck's face gently, his touch a stark contrast to the urgency thrumming through both their bodies. "We've got all night, baby. Let's take our time, ok?"
Buck nodded, but didn't move from his position. The anticipation was electric, every nerve ending on fire. As Tommy's fingers carded through his hair, Buck leaned forward, ready to show his husband just how much he'd missed him.
They had hours ahead of them to reconnect, to relearn each other's bodies, to make up for lost time. And they intended to savor every moment.
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Long Awaited Punishment {part. 14} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
Not So Patient After All {part. 13} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
AN: sorry this took so long. writing smut is hard enough but writing smut with a submissive man is even harder. i hope you enjoy. i tried my best to write a good sub/dom dynamic in this but i don't know if i did very well. let me know if you enjoyed by leaving your feedback and reblog. xoxo
This story contains: talks of kinky things, male douching, smut obviously, mild edging, face sitting, sub/dom, handjob, blowjob, pegging, crying from pleasure
{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - subrry - bi!harry dom!reader }
word count- 3,214
Tonight's the night you finally get to 'punish' Harry by fucking him with your brand new pink strap-on until his mind is sent into another dimension, but not before teasing and edging him beforehand.
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"You sure you're up for tonight? Just because we've had this planned doesn't mean we have to do it, okay. I wouldn't be mad or disappointed, at all."
Lounging in bed on Friday morning, you and Harry engage in some pillow talk before he has to get ready for work. It began with inquiring about each other's sleep and dreams, but took a serious turn when Harry mentioned tonight.
You nod your head where it rests on his shoulder and reply back, "Yeah, I'm sure. I mean, I'm a little nervous. I have played dom before but I've never fucked any of my subs. They wouldn't let me. So I've only tied them up or edged them. Like that one time I made that guy wear a cock ring while I rode him. Which, by the way, was pretty fun to do."
"Please, don't ever torture me like that. M' all for being tied up, gettin' fucked, even havin' my ass spanked, but edgin' for an hour with a cock ring on, while you ride me, I draw the line there."
You let a laugh escape your mouth. "Because you said that, I may just have to purchase a cock ring too, just for you."
Shrugging, Harry replies, "Eh, never said I didn't already have one. Just that I don't ever want you to torture me like that."
You sit up straight, your bed head framing your face, and ask, "You own a cock ring and didn't tell me?"
Now Harry giggles before turning serious again, "Hey, it's never been brought up. I wasn't keepin' it a secret from you. But um, on a more serious note about tonight, you don't have to be nervous, Y/n. Just be your confident self and remember what I did to warrant you fuckin' me. Remember I'd been a bad boy."
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While Harry was at work all day, you took the opportunity to get things ready for tonight. This includes sterilizing the pink strap-on and tidying up the bedroom to create a more comfortable atmosphere. Not feeling up to cooking, a pizza was ordered for dinner just before his arrival home.
Upon Harry's return from work, he joined you at the table to enjoy the delicious pizza you had ordered before taking a thorough shower. This shower wasn't his usual routine; it was a pristine cleansing to ensure he was impeccably clean for the night ahead.
He meticulously shaved his bum to avoid you having to stare at his possibly hairy backside, and then used an extra douche he had kept in the storage space beneath the bathroom sink. Before partaking in anal sex, Harry always took the necessary steps to cleanse himself. The mere thought of accidentally getting shit on his partner was enough to make him cringe.
After completing his grooming routine, he thoroughly washes his body and exits the shower, drying himself off and putting on only a pair of underwear. Harry then leaves the bathroom and entered the bedroom where you had arranged everything. He gasps in amazement, expressing, "Wow!".
You nervously look up at him and question, "It's not too much is it? I.... I wanted to make the room all cozy for us."
Harry shakes his head before approaching you, gently placing his hands on each side of your face. Speaking softly, he reassures you, "No, it's perfect, baby. I appreciate the effort you've put into tonight. It makes me feel really comfortable with you and what we have planned. Thank you, m'love." He leans in to give you a tender kiss, causing you to melt at his touch, momentarily losing track of your responsibilities for the evening.
Before things get too heated, you pull away and think to ask before things get started, "Do you have a safe word, Harry?"
"Mhm, it's cherry. You know, because cherries are red, red means stop."
With a clap of your hands, a switch flips in your brain, triggering a surge of dominance. "Excellent. Climb on the bed and place your hands above your head. I won't tie you up, at least not for now. Just remember to keep your hands to yourself, no touching, understood?"
Harry answers with a meek, "Yes." and does as instructed. Before joining him on the bed, you stand off to the side and begin stripping your clothes off, revealing what you have underneath. A pair of black lingerie. It's nothing too extreme but it does make you feel slightly more powerful. After your reveal, you look to Harry and see his mouth has dropped open and his eyes become darker. You can also see the large dent he's made in his briefs.
You kneel on the bed, positioning yourself between Harry's legs. Placing your hands on his meaty thighs, you glide your hands up and down, moving higher and higher each time, nearly touching him where he needs it most. You notice his struggle as he refrains from touching you, wanting to bring you to his aching cock but doesn't as he wants to please you and be a good boy.
Harry is fixated on your hands, hoping you'll shift just a bit higher. The suspense is tormenting him. He believes he's never been so aroused in his whole life. It's so intense that it's causing him physical discomfort. His testicles are pulsating from being so engorged with semen, and the extent to which his erection has expanded is becoming excruciating in his underwear.
Recognizing the unease Harry's in, you make the decision to reposition your hands and place them directly on his stiffened cock. You cradle his junk in your hands, still atop his underwear, and he sighs with relief from the momentary comfort it offers. Slowly, you glide your palms up and down the fabric, noting the rise and fall of his stomach. You continue this action for another minute before feeling restless and eager to transition into more of the fun stuff.
You halt your hand, and before Harry can express his discontent at your pause, you grasp the waistband of his underwear and lower it. His erection springs up, revealing his lower abdomen glistening with precome. "Aww, does my poor baby want me to touch it? To make it feel better?" you inquire in a mocking tone.
"Please, baby. Hurts s'bad!" Harry's immediate response reveals that he's fallen under your spell. His voice has become higher in pitch, indicating his vulnerability and submission. Unlike your past submissive partners who sometimes had a hard time fully submitting in front of you, Harry has quickly embraced his submissive role tonight, making you feel honored and content. Happy he feels safe enough to let go fully and be in a different headspace altogether with you.
You toss his briefs onto the ground to deal with later, then choose to end his discomfort. You lean towards Harry's lap, allowing a lengthy strand of saliva to flow from your mouth and observe as it trickles down his pulsating penis. He moans at the sensation of your warm spit sliding down his cock. You use your right hand to gently stroke his erection, spreading your saliva along his entire shaft.
Harry wishes for more but decides to keep his thoughts to himself, allowing you to do as you please. He's considerate of your wishes and refrains from interfering, despite his deep-seated urge to grab your hair and shove your mouth down on his cock.
Once you have dedicated time to pleasuring him with your hand, the desire to take him into your mouth becomes more compelling. You lower yourself, positioning your knees beneath your body, and carefully ease him into your mouth. Harry is the largest you've ever encountered, making it challenging to take him fully without experiencing pain. You begin to move your head in a rhythmic motion while using your hands to stimulate the portion that cannot fit in your mouth. As his breathing becomes more intense, it's apparent that he's nearing climax, and so, you withdraw yourself.
"Hey," Harry scolds, missing the touch you just had on his cock.
Looking up with a reassuring smile, you reply, "Shh, no whining. I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby." Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you duck down, lifting his scrotum in one hand, and allowing your tongue to lap at his puckering hole.
"Oh, God damn!" His expression of pleasure through profanity arouses you, causing you to subconsciously stimulate your clitoris with the heel of your foot that's tucked beneath your body. You knew of Harry's enjoyment with having his ass played with, but you didn't fully comprehend the extent of his passion for it. You're thankful he maintains good hygiene, otherwise, you wouldn't be engaging in this activity right now.
Before psyching yourself out, after licking around his shaven rim a few more times, you use both your thumbs to open his hole and insert your tongue. You thrust your tongue in and out of his anus, making him crumble in response. Despite not touching his dick, Harry believes he could achieve a hands-free orgasm with enough time like this. However, he's certain you wouldn't permit it.
Once his hole is nice and wet with your saliva, you pull away and announce, "Okay, time for the strap-on."
Though Harry's mind is beginning to become fuzzy, he's still courteous enough to ask, "Are you wet enough, m'love?", knowing the type of strap-on you bought doesn't have a harness on your end, rather a bulbed part that goes inside you and a suction part that goes over your clit.
In a cheeky manner, you reply, "Why don't you find out." Though there's heaviness in his limbs, Harry is about to sit up and comply with your request. However, you start to crawl up his body and kneel over his face. He looks up at you with his big, green eyes, as if he can't believe you're about to sit on his face.
Despite your panties still covering your damp pussy, you proceed to lower yourself, allowing your cunt to make contact with his mouth. Harry extends his tongue out and traces a wet path along your core, prompting a moan to escape your lips. He then begins to suck on the area where he believes your clit is located under the black fabric, and his mouth fills with the juices that have soaked into your underwear.
It's Harry that's moaning now. Popping his mouth off of you for a second, he mutters, "Fuck, you are soaked."
As he prepares to resume eating you out over your panties, you decide to withdraw. Although his mouth would have provided immense pleasure, your anticipation for the main activity of the night is growing. "I need to fuck you, now." Harry, in a state of a blissful daze, simply nods in agreement, ready to follow your lead. He observes from his position as you discard your black lingerie onto the floor alongside his briefs. Then watches as you reach for the lube and strap-on from your nightstand.
You get back on the bed and instruct your boyfriend, "Get on all fours for me." He follows your instructions, getting into the submissive position known as doggy. Even though he's feeling vulnerable, he trusts and feels safe with you. The last time he was in this position was with a guy he met on a dating app months ago, getting his back blown out.
Before you begin, Harry decides he wants to watch you insert your end of the toy inside you cunt. "Wait, can I watch you put it in yourself?"
"Yeah, baby. Of course." You make your way to the top of the bed, and Harry turns his head to the side as you begin to gently insert the egg-shaped ball into your body. The initial tightness gives way to a sense of relief once it's completely inside your wet pussy. Harry's limbs tremble from his position, despite you not having touched him yet with the toy. The mere act of you placing the toy inside yourself has awakened a strong feeling of arousal, adding on to the several times he almost had orgasms but was edged before he actually came. "Now it's your turn," you state matter-of-factly.
Carefully, you slide back behind his body and grab the lube. You're fortunate not to have needed it for yourself, as your body produces its own lubrication, but Harry doesn't share that advantage. You apply some of the clear, slimy, liquid to the lengthy toy that's inserted in you on one end and carefully spread any remaining lube around his rim. "Mhm, fuck!" His response makes you chuckle. You find joy in the way he seems to unravel with minimal effort on your part.
Once the toy and his bum are properly lubricated, you confirm, "Sure you're ready? Let me know if it hurts at all and I'll stop, okay, baby?"
"Yes, please, just fuck me already!"
Because of his bold attitude, you pull your hand back and lightly slap his right ass cheek as a small punishment, but know deep down that Harry enjoys it. Then, you place the tip of the fake cock against his puckering hole and gently push it in while holding onto his narrow hips. You expected to feel more nervous when this moment arrived, but surprisingly, you don't. You feel powerful and confident. The role reversal of being in control and fucking a man gives you a sensation that is entirely new, and you love it.
The arms that were supporting Harry give way, causing him to fall onto the bed, with only his ass elevated and his knees drawn beneath him. "Oh my God, Oh my fuckin' GOD!" he exclaims repeatedly, recalling precisely why he enjoys anal sex. The sensation of something inside him brings immense pleasure. As soon as your hips connect with his and the toy is fully inserted, you pause momentarily to let him adjust. However, Harry doesn't require this adjustment, as proven when he begins pushing his hips forward and then rears his hips back, essentially fucking himself on the toy.
Witnessing his eagerness, you start to thrust. Initially, it feels unfamiliar as you're not accustomed to thrusting during intercourse. Although, after a few awkward movements, you begin to get the hang of it. Yet, because this particular strap-on is designed to bring pleasure to you as well, you soon realize the challenge ahead. The part that's inside of you is stimulating your g-spot directly, providing additional pleasure as you have to continuously squeeze your pelvic muscles to avoid it from slipping out while thrusting.
After about two minutes of thrusting, you suddenly remember that the strap-on is actually a vibrating toy. You remove one of your hands from Harry's hip and lower it to activate the on button. In an instant, both of you are uttering moans and profanities. The vibrating bulbed egg inside you, along with the outer part stimulating your clit, sends waves of pleasure through your entire body, causing you to slow down involuntarily. The overwhelming pleasure makes you want to remain still and revel in your impending orgasm.
"Dnt' Stop!" Harry's speech is slurred, indicating a significant alteration in his mental state. This situation scares you a tiny bit, as you have never encountered someone entering subspace, nor have you experienced it yourself. The entire scenario is foreign to you. However, you conducted some preliminary research prior to this evening to ensure that you would be equipped to assist him appropriately should the need arise.
With a shaky breath, you manage to spit out, "I’m not... not trying to. It’s just, I’m about to come. Holy shit!" Your body trembles as an overwhelming orgasm surges through you, leaving your ears ringing. Although you've felt pleasure from vibrators in the past, the one inside of you right now is stimulating your g-spot so intensely that the vibrations travel from your head to your toes. Furthermore, the vibrations sucking your clit enhance the intensity of your orgasm.
As you begin to come down from the powerful orgasm, the urge to remove the strap-on is strong; however, you decide to push your own boundaries for Harry's sake. The stimulation is overwhelming, affecting every nerve in your body, yet you take deep breaths to center your attention on your boyfriend's pleasure. Harry's been very well-behaved tonight, listening to your commands and not touching you unless you instructed otherwise. He's followed your every command. He certainly deserves to have a powerfully orgasm experience.
You begin to thrust once more, this time reaching around to take hold of Harry's painful erection. He tries to express his pleasure through moans, but only a faint whine emerges. In your desire to hasten the moment, your dominant hand moves swiftly along his shaft, while you maintain a focus on thrusting deeply and forcefully rather than at a rapid pace. You're getting exhausted by this point. Dominating is taking a lot out of you.
Harry's breathing becomes increasingly labored as his face is pressed into the pillows beneath him. His hands grip the sheets so tightly that they appear to be in pain. This is a side of Harry you have never witnessed before. It seems as though he has placed complete trust in you, surrendering both mentally and, soon enough, physically.
When you feel his cock twitch in your hand, you're ready to assure him that it's alright to let go, but before you can express this, Harry exclaims, "Gonna come, oh m'..." Suddenly, his back arches and his entire body convulses as he succumbs to his orgasm. As you continue to stroke him, you feel warm spurts of cum escaping his dick, coating your hand and the sheets below, and it just keeps coming. No wonder his balls were so swollen, they were about ready to burst with how full they were.
Unbeknownst to you, Harry experienced not only a penile orgasm but also a prostate orgasm simultaneously. While he's encountered this phenomenon before, tonights proved to be the most intense he's ever experienced. As the waves of pleasure continue to envelop him, he finds himself unable to suppress a sob that escapes his lips. Initially, you feel a sense of concern, but then you recall Harry mentioning that he occasionally cries when the intensity of his orgasm is overwhelming, reassuring you not to worry if it occurs.
Gradually, you withdraw your hand from Harry's cock as you sense it starting to lose its firmness, and ceasing the movement of your hips followed by promptly turning off the vibrations. With his head pressed into the mattress, he emits strained cries, his body shaking from the remnants of his intense climax. He looks so vulnerable in this moment that all you want to do is scope him up and hold him, tell him everything is gonna be okay.
You slowly remove the strap-on from his body, which causes him to cry out more intensely for a moment, and then you carefully pull your end out as well. Despite feeling just as drained as you believe Harry is, you understand that the dominant role comes with responsibilities. The key responsibility is aftercare, and you conclude that the first step in providing aftercare tonight is to help Harry calm down.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )
tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg
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My Masterlist Masterpost
Aftercare {part. 15}
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 3 months
Text
Everything | Overlord!Husk x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Overlord!Husk fluff, established relationship with reader, very sweet and domestic, a slightly intimate moment near the end
Word Count: 913
Summary: You were out to support your fiancé while he did his job, but by the end you were about ready to drop, so he steps in to remind you exactly why you're marrying him and not some other overlord.
A/N — I've never written for Husk before — let alone Overlord!Husk, so I'm hoping this gets some love 💗
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"It's about that time, my love." You whispered in his ear, watching the hands on the clock tick with every passing second — every passing minute.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
"I'll be done soon, Doll." His grip around your waist tightened as the men around the table stared you down like a piece of meat.
You thought he was insane playing high stakes games. On more than one occasion you found yourself uttering the phrase 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes', which was essentially the equivalent to 'fuck around and find out'. . . Which you had also said many, many, many times.
Husk nearly always had a good hand, so the prize was often money or jewelry — anything that was bet and valuable at the time of his win. Even souls, if they were put on the line. You loved watching those ones, as twisted as it likely sounded. 
Hell, you were almost certain the engagement ring that sat prettily on your finger was won in a bet. No complaints regardless of how it came to be. It was sparkly and just your style.
The only time you had a complaint was when he chose gambling over his responsibilities. . . Namely making sure you were happy and satisfied. Even then, it was a rare occasion, despite practically being his whole job.
Tonight, though, you were bored.
You were hungry.
You were tired and just wanted to go home — but you stayed to support him and it was now long past when the two of you ate dinner and it was rapidly approaching the time when you usually went to bed, knowing your mornings were early and consisted of mentally taxing wedding planning with your closest friends.
You loved them, though, and appreciated all of their ideas. Who in Hell didn't love the idea of an event as important as an overlord wedding?
Bitter, loveless souls obviously — but other than that. . . Who?
When the game finally came to an end, it was no surprise to you when Husk collected his winnings. Almost 10K and two souls. You loved when things worked out.
"Let's get you home, Doll. You look fuckin' exhausted."
"You really know how to flatter a woman." You snorted, allowing him to lead you out of the casino he owned. "I should lock you out of the room for mentioning my exhaustion in public."
"Oh, don't be like that!" He smirked, playing into the little game you always played. When he played back, you knew you were about to get your way. "Gonna make you forgive me, one way or another."
You hummed with a smirk of your own, looking away from him. "We'll see."
"How about. . . Dinner at the house and a nice hot bath, hmm? . . And your favorite ice cream?"
Your smirk morphed into a smile. "Close, but we'll see."
"I'll join you?"
"You're forgiven."
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It wasn't long before you were sat at the table eating the quick and delicious meal that Husk made — it was far from something he would've usually made, but it was delicious and you enjoyed it.
He finished eating first and went to run the bath for you, but not without kissing you on the forehead on his way to the shared bedrooms ensuite bathroom.
You loved that bathroom — it had been what sold you on the house in the first place. Sure, the kitchen was nice, but the bathroom had a huge bathtub, a spacious shower, and the colors of the floor and shower tiles went together without clashing or being gaudy.
The lighting wasn't bad either.
You called it your 'own little slice of Heaven'.
You soon finished and put your plate in the sink, but before you could wash up the couple dishes, Husk grabbed your hand and guided you to the bathroom where he urged you to undress and get into the hot bath while he handled the couple dishes.
You did as he asked and got undressed, stepping into the tub filled with water and bubbles. Immediately, the stress from the day melted away as the heat soothed the aching muscles that you surprisingly hadn't noticed until then.
Husk joined you a few minutes later, slipping into the water behind you. He hated water as much as the next cat, but for you, he'd do anything and everything.
"It was a long fuckin' day." He groaned at the hot water, your back pressed against his chest.
"You're telling me. . . I thought it would never end." You chuckled and then sighed contently. "I could fall asleep right here."
"You love going with me and you know it." Husk mused, his hands finding their way into your hair, fidgeting with the strands in a way that raised goosebumps.
"I do. But I also love having moments like this. Moments where it's just us. No gambling. No overlord society gala. No worries. Just us in our slice of Heaven."
He couldn't help but agree, those moments were perhaps the best part of his day.
And he'd give you that.
He'd give you everything.
It didn't matter what it was, whether it was material or otherwise. He loved you, so the world was yours if you asked. Money. Power. Anything. Everything.
"We have all of eternity for moments like this. . . We've already taken the first step." He ran one of his clawed hands down your arm until it was placed in the hand that the sparkly ring adorned, glistening in the light.
Everything for all of eternity.
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🏷Tags: @6esiree
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bi-bard · 1 year
Text
The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]
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Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"
Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 2,071 words
Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up
Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.
Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.
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I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.
I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.
I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.
"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."
"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."
"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."
I nodded.
I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.
"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"
He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.
"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."
I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."
"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book
"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."
He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."
"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."
"Afraid not."
"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."
Which I did.
A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.
"Mr. Fell," I called.
He rounded the corner. "You're back."
"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."
"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."
"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."
"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."
"I... I can't ask you to do that."
"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.
I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"
"Do you have time now?"
"Um, yeah, sure."
"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."
"Okay," I nodded.
As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.
When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.
"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."
"Thank you."
I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.
"Angel!"
I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.
"Who are you?"
"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"
"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.
"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.
"I just told you my name," I replied.
"How am I meant to trust you?"
"Why would I lie about my name?"
"Don't know, you tell me-"
"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."
"Why?"
"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."
"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.
"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."
"I am busy-"
"Do I look like I care?"
"I can come back later," I spoke up.
"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."
"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.
"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."
Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.
If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.
But it did.
I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.
I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.
Or Crowley, as I soon learned.
I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.
They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.
When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.
"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."
"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.
"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."
"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.
The three of us were only closer after that.
It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.
Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.
Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.
I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.
He waited for a moment before following me.
"Come here," he said.
"What," I asked.
"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.
I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.
"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."
"Don't call me that."
I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."
"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."
I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.
I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.
"Thank you," I said after a while.
"Yeah, whatever."
That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.
I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.
I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.
When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.
Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.
"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"
He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.
"What's going on," he asked.
I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.
"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."
Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.
"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."
I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.
"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.
Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.
"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."
"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.
"What?"
"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"
"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."
Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Be nice."
"I am not nice."
"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."
Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.
There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.
"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.
Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."
I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.
"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."
"I don't drink-"
"And I clearly meant chocolate."
I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."
"You're welcome."
He walked out of the little nook in the corner.
As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.
As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.
I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.
I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.
But I would never stop trying to do so.
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kodathings · 3 months
Text
𝐹𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒
Aeri Uchinaga x drunk!reader
Gender: Fluff
Warnings: drunk reader, slight mention of blood and fight with someone else at first.
a/n: Hello 😁 It's been a while since I've been here, hasn't it? Anyway, I came back with little creativity and I'm still writing something about Winter, but it will take a while to come out. I hope you enjoy what you read and if you could give me suggestions on what I should write soon. Oh, and this fanfic was inspired by a materialist about aespa that I read, I don't remember who wrote it but if you search you'll find it here on Tumblr.
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"You fucking bum!" You scream, drawing the attention of the entire bar as you attack a drunk man who confronted you. With your weight you managed to knock him to the ground and punch him in the face, which were difficult to aim with in your drunken state. This all didn't last long when he pushes you, making you hit your head on the table and some glasses of drinks fall on you along with a perfect punch in the middle of your face and soon after your vision goes dark.
-
"You know how stupid that was, don't you?"
"But he was talking about you, I heard it!”
"That was stupid" Giselle shut you up by putting alcohol swabs on your wound under your eye, making the area burn. She was with you at the bar when you fought with that strong man, she was the one who brought you home in fact. You went to the bar to drink because the next day she was going to visit her family in Tokyo and you were staying because you still had to work, so it would be good drink with her before that.
You mumbled something under your breath when she pulled the cotton away with little blood this time "I was just trying to defend you...". Well, she can't send it, it was cute to see you this way, flushed from the drink and with a pout on his lips trying to justify yourself to Giselle.
"You didn't have to do this, just accept that you have a hot girlfriend." She joked trying to lighten the mood. You can't help but laugh at this and go back to sulking when you remember that guy. "But I didn't like what he said" she could even count how many times you've repeated that tonight "Drink really messes with your little head, doesn't it?"
Once again the cotton made contact with his skin, this time a new cotton that went to another wound in the corner of his lip. It was incredible how powerful that man's fist was in you face. The cotton came off and her soft fingers brushed against his skin for a perfect bandage that she had done before, she obviously knew very well what she was doing. Her glass came a little forward with her eyes focused on your bruised face, Giselle didn't even notice how you silently admired her.
"You are very beautiful" a shy murmur escaped his lips with a goofy smile. Now it is clear that the drink was messing with his head. You felt like a fool falling in love again, it was so strange in your head, out of nowhere you felt that way as if you had hearts in your eyes when you saw her.
Aeri smiled at the sight of you just being a jerk for her "You're so silly, Y/n" she pressed a quick kiss to your cheek leaving the lipstick mark there. You liked that, you really liked that. It wasn't like you to like physical contact, this wasn't really your love firm, but this time it was different because of the sparkle in your eyes and she noticed. A smile painted her lips painted wine red, the perfect tone to mark her skin as if it were a painting and she was the artist.
"Why are you like that, babe?" Cynical, she knew how to play with you according to what you was feeling. Your eyes just stared into her dark orbs, you're too stupid and in love for that. You have a headache, your nose still hurts from the punch, your hand hurts a little but you continued to look at her and your girlfriend's red lips "You're going to Tokyo tomorrow...I don't think I can stay without you around for three weeks".
It's cute, but it's sad at the same time. She felt the same way, of course she would call you every night to see how she was and not to mention that she wouldn't be alone in Tokyo since she will see her family, But knowing that I would be far from you is kind of painful to be honest. It would be fair if she left you with a memory of her even if it was just for a little while.
With a sigh she left you lying on the bed comfortably, you didn't understand anything, you just accepted your fate and the soft bed that made you lie there without protesting. She sat on top of you and leaned in close to your face, dangerously close to your lips that tasted like a strong drink that she didn't particularly like the taste of, but it would be worth it later. Your arms were wrapped around her involuntarily quickly, not letting her leave now.
"Silly..." she called you with the new nickname that would be acquired for the rest of your life. It was then that the kissing session on her skin began. First one on his left cheek, he moved up his lips to his forehead forming a path to his right cheek and chin. She was careful not to end up undoing the bandages, which was the reason to make a trail of kisses to his jaw and neck. Meanwhile you were soft with the amount of kisses you received from the Japanese woman.
You felt like you were in heaven, the angels were granting you this great woman before you entered the gates of heaven. Her hands were roaming over your shoulder and arms to make sure you would have blurs of memories the next morning.
Suddenly the kisses stopped, making an irritated groan come out of you in protest, everything was so good. Your eyes opened to see what happened but closed soon after with the quick kiss that was placed on your bruised lips, you swore you just melted like butter on the bed. Aeri had surreally soft lips, a feature you considered very advantageous.
"How it feels?"
"I won't get this off my face until tomorrow"
"Idiot"
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