#i promise you this'll help

[itsumikorokotoyomonoko]

ok bc i reblogged smth about it, lemme give you guys a bit of a tip about Chromebooks.

Assuming you didn't have to turn yours in at the end of your time in the Education System, you can claim it as yours by doing a factory reset. So if you can still log into your School Account, save what you want or can to a flashdrive (USB Stick, Thumbdrive, etc.) and safely eject it.

Next, you want to log out of the School Account. On the Log In screen, hit Control, Alt, Shift, and R.

That'll pop up a box, but it won't say Factory Reset. It'll say Power Wash. You hit that, and once it resets, log in as normal and you're home free!

[octoagentmiles]

seeing a lot of folks in my notes with blank blogs (default pfps, "Untitled", no posts, no banner, etc.) lately, and I just wanna make a quick PSA post to let y'all know that the bots on tumblr are RAMPANT right now, and you guys are dressed in their clothes. some people are going to see you in their notifs and mistakingly report you and get you banned. PLEASE customize your blog even just a lil bit 🙏🙏 it's very quick and easy to do. ily guys, stay safe 🫶🫶

[chloelouygo]

So I didn't ever want to be "that person" who makes a post like this, but I just wanted to say I'm going offline for a bit to go touch some grass. So many of you are people I would genuinely call my friends, and I feel I owe you some explanation rather than just leaving you hanging. A year ago, ygo and the community around it dragged me out of a really deep hole I was in, but lately I've been really struggling again and I need to step back and relearn how to be myself, and tumblr (and twitter too, though i jumped ship there a while ago) is just not a healthy place for me to do that. I want to come back, I will come back, and I'll miss being here, but right now my head is a mess and I need distance from the toxic and triggering parts of tumblr that I stoop to when things get bad in my head. I might be back in a few days or a week or just some time in the future, I guess just however long it takes for me to stop feeling like this. I'll miss the community but I don't have any enthusiasm to give for anything at all right now, not yugioh or chainsaw man or even my sweet chicken husband, and everything I see just makes me sad. I need some time to shed that bitterness to be able to bring a better version of myself back to enjoy characters, art, fics and community here. I'll miss you guys, please don't forget me while I'm gone! See ya later💜

[medicinemane]

I just think that the main barrier to being good at a lot of different things isn't about that you couldn't be good at it, it's about time, and it's about affording equipment and materials

It's gonna be a lot harder to find the time for even one hobby if you're working full time, and make no mistake, there's a real problem of getting what you need to actually work on stuff

[zebuie]

#♡BOYS WILL BE BUGS♡#

❝𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; bbf!ellie x reader

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

❝𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒❞; After a breakup, your brother's best friend offers guidance through guitar lessons, but the connection between you deepens, crossing the lines of friendship.

❝𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; 1.7k words, reader had a bf, swearing, this is actually pretty fluffy,✂️✂️✂️, fingering (r receiving, nipple sucking (r receiving, Ellie calls u princess like once, i honestly don’t knowwww😔

↳𝐀/𝐍; Ellie being bbf is mentioned like once……✊🏽 it’s the thought that counts tho right !! i whipped this up in honor of pride month when I was work.happey bride month❤️❤️ be whooo u areeee 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩✂️

It was a crisp morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon when your boyfriend shattered your heart in the most cowardly way possible - through a simple text message. 

I mean- how shittier can he get?!

You found yourself unable to leave the comfort of your bed for three whole days as you grappled with the depth of betrayal. Just when you thought you were alone, your brother's best friend, Ellie, entered your room with a gentle knock on the door.

"She sat gingerly on the edge of your bed, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. Softly, she spoke, her voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart. "Hey," she began, her gaze never leaving your face, "I know this is tough, but you can't keep hiding in here forever."

Ellie's hand reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she was handling something fragile and precious. 

Her fingers lingered on your cheek for a moment, tracing a soothing pattern against your skin.

She continued to stroke your hair, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I just thought...maybe you'd want some company.” You stayed silent.

Ellie paused for a moment, her eyes glinting mischievously as she seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Wait right here," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. She rose from the edge of the bed and disappeared out of sight.

"I think this'll cheer you up," she said, her fingers dancing over the strings, producing a soft, melodic tune. The guitar hummed under her touch, the notes weaving a soothing, gentle melody that filled the air. (and of course she’s playing take on me by a-ha.)

Ellie began to sing, her voice soft and sweet as it matched the melody of the guitar. 

The words she sang were familiar, the chorus of a song you knew well. 

Despite the pain you were feeling, you couldn't help but be comforted by her presence, the sound of her voice, and the gentle strums of her guitar.

Her eyes never left your face as she sang, the words seeming almost like a comforting anthem aimed at lifting your spirits. 

The room was bathed in a warm, golden light as she continued to play, the notes hanging in the air like silent promises of better days ahead.

As the last note faded away, Ellie set the guitar down, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. 

"How was that?" she asked, still peering intently into your face, searching for signs of improvement. "Did it help even a little bit?"

You found yourself nodding slightly, a small spark of hope flickering within you. 

The music, combined with her gentle care, had managed to break through the cloud of despair that had surrounded you for days. 

Her eyes lit up at your response, her smile widening into a full-blown grin.

You found yourself suddenly sitting up a little straighter, the spark of curiosity igniting within you. "Could you..." you began, your voice hesitant, 

"teach me how to play?"

Ellie's eyes widened slightly, surprise flitting across her features before being replaced by a soft smile. 

"Of course," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "I'd love to teach you."

Ellie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she shifted on the bed, moving behind you. 

"Alright," she said, her voice a soft whisper against your ear. "Here, let me show you how to hold the guitar properly.

Her hands gently guided yours as she positioned the guitar across your lap, her fingers delicately adjusting the placement of your hands. "Just like this..." she murmured, her voice soft and patient. 

Her body was close, her chest almost touching your back, as she leaned forward, her chin resting on your shoulder.

Her breath was warm against your skin, the tips of her fingers tracing lightly over your knuckles. "Now, place your fingers here, on the strings," she instructed, her voice a soothing murmur. "Yep, just like that.

Her hand enveloped your own, guiding your fingers into the correct position on the fretboard. "Now, press down firmly, but not too hard," she instructed, her voice steady and soothing. 

As you pressed down, a soft chord echoed through the room, the sound surprisingly sweet.

Ellie let out a soft laugh, her breath tickling your ear. "Not bad for a beginner," she said, her tone filled with pride. "Now, try strumming the strings gently.

You took a deep breath, positioning your fingers properly as you stroked them over the strings, producing another soft sound. 

Ellie nodded her head in approval, a smile in her voice as she spoke. "Perfect. You're catching on quickly."

She moved to wrap her arms around you, her body pressing closer against your back. 

Her chin was still perched on your shoulder as she watched you intently, her breath warm against your skin. 

"Try strumming a little faster now," she encouraged, her voice rich with patience.

You obeyed, your fingers moving a bit faster over the strings, producing a slightly faster, more melodious sound. 

Your heart was pounding, a strange mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through you. 

Ellie chuckled, the sound rumbling softly through her chest. "See? You're a natural."

Her chin moved from your shoulder to your ear, her lips hovering dangerously close as she spoke. 

"Now try and do it without looking at the strings. Trust your fingers to find the right frets..." her voice low and gentle.

Your breath caught in your throat at the nearness of her face, but you pushed the sensation away and focused on the strings beneath your fingers. 

Slowly, you began to strum, trying to remember the placement of your fingers without looking. It was a bit more challenging, but the sound was still clear and sweet. 

"Good..." Ellie whispered, her voice filled with encouragement.

Her breath was warm on your neck now, the proximity of her body making goose bumps erupt on your skin.

 "Keep going like that," she murmured, her hands still guiding your own on the guitar. "You're doing great."

The heat of her body was intoxicating, the closeness almost overwhelming. 

Your fingers moved over the strings, each stroke producing a clear, sweet sound that filled the room. Her breath was warm against your ear, her chest rising and falling in time with your own. 

"That's it," she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur. "You're a fast learner.”

You couldn't help yourself anymore. 

The tension in the room was palpable, and the proximity of her body to yours was driving you wild. Turning around abruptly, you captured her lips in a swift, impulsive kiss.

Ellie's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but quickly softened as she melted into the kiss. 

Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified. The guitar fell to the side, forgotten, as your lips moved together hungrily.

The moment your lips meet Ellie's, the world around you fades away. The guitar, the lesson, the fact that she was teaching you how to play guitar minutes ago—none of it matters as you lose yourselves in the kiss. 

Ellie's fingers dig into your hips as she pulls you flush against her body; her tongue dancing with yours in a passionate tango.

Finally breaking apart for air, Ellie's cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are heavy-lidded with desire. "Fuck," she breathes hoarsely. 

She looks up to you as a way of asking for permission and eagerly you nod, she lows herself down and pulls down your shorts.

 She licks her lips before leaning in to press a kiss to the fabric. "So pretty." Her fingers hook into the elastic, pulling the material aside as she gives your bare sex a long, admiring look. 

"so wet already," she notes with a smile. With that, she plunges two fingers inside you, feeling you clench around the intrusion.

Ellie gently rocks her fingers inside you, curving them to stroke that magical spot. You moan softly, your hips undulating against her hand as she explores your sensitive depths. "Relax, princess," she coos. 

"jus let me take care of you." Her thumb rubs slow circles over your clit as her fingers continue their tender thrusts. 

You feel your pleasure building under her ministrations; your body trembling and your breath growing short.

As you near the edge, Ellie slows her movements, pulling her fingers out of you slowly as she gently pulls off your shirt.

she kisses you again, soft and sweet; her tongue flicking across your lips as she holds you close. When she finally pulls away, she leaves a trail of gentle kisses down your neck. "I want to see all of you," she whispers, snapping open your bra with deft fingers. 

She guides it off, letting your breasts fall free. "So beautiful," she breathes, taking one of your nipples into her mouth for a tender suck.

Ellie laves your breast, lapping at the nipple with her tongue before nipping it gently. 

She worships your chest with slow, reverent kisses as her hands roam over your skin, rediscovering every curve and dip. When she finally looks up at you again, her eyes are dark with need.

 "Please," she whispers, "I need to feel you against me." With that, she guides you down onto the couch, settling between your legs as she lines herself up with your entrance. Slowly, she sinks inside you—both of you moaning at the sensation of their joining.

The kiss breaks, and Ellie rests her forehead against yours; her body buried inside you to the hilt. "Holy shit..” she breathes. "so good." She begins to move, slowly at first, rolling her hips as she searches for the perfect angle. When she finds it, she doesn't hesitate, pounding into you with all the passion she's been holding back. 

The bed creaks in protest as you're slammed against it—Ellie's nails digging into your hips as she claims you.

You cling to Ellie as she rides you hard, your fingers twisted in her hair as your bodies slam together again and again. The sound of skin on skin fills the room; mingling with your ragged breathing and Ellie's throaty moans. 

She slams her hips down, burying herself to the hilt inside you as she grinds against your clit with every thrust, “my fucking god-“ she gasps. "I'm gonna...fuck, I'm gonna cum." With that, she buries her face in your neck, biting the sensitive skin as she convulses above you; her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Damn, what the hell fertility drugs did that doctor put you on?" Marissa's husband, Tom, asked.

"I dunno." She smiled big, shrugging. "But I think I love it..... Just look at this belly, I'm so huge!"

"I know..... I'm just in awe. You pushed out sextuplets last time and he still upped your dose?"

"Yep! He said he wasn't happy with how many I was having. That a fertile young woman like me should be carrying at least a dozen at a time....."

"Wait, a dozen? Babe, you can't be serious."

Marissa giggled. "What? Are you surprised? Tom, I'm only four months along. What did you think was happening? I bet I'm carrying even more...."

"Holy shit, you're gonna be immobile by the six month mark. Your belly will be bigger than that yoga ball of yours!"

"I know..... isn't that so hot? I'll be totally helpless..... Not even when I was carrying sextuplets was I that helpless. Sure, I needed you to push me in a wheelchair, which was fun. I loved explaining to people around town that I was too pregnant to walk. Everyone loved it, although a lot were bummed when I told them you didn't have me paralyzed from the shoulders down finally, since that's such a popular thing for husbands to do......"

"Hey don't tempt me. Your doctor keeps asking me if I want it. But you'll already be helpless enough, I think."

"Who knows! It could help spice up our marriage a bit! You'll already be so used to caring for me. Are you even going to bother clothing me before you show me off to the neighborhood?"

"I wasn't exactly planning on it...."

"Mmmmm, I'll bet. I just love having you take care of me, I can't believe how independent and against being a traditional wife and mother I used to be."

"When we met you had a buzzed head, hated the idea of kids, and you were even thinking of transitioning into a guy."

"I was so naïve about what a simpleminded breeder I wanted to really be. Totally in denial..... Thankfully after you knocked me up I came to my senses..... Now I'm starting to think twelve or thirteen kids might be too easy for this womb of mine. I think I can carry way more."

"I dunno, might hurt a lot to get that big, I might have to make a call and get that spine snipped..... you'd look so cute totally helpless, unable to move or feel a thing except your head. Then you'd really just be a big over-inflated womb and nothing more."

"I'm starting to like the sound of it more by the day..... My body will 100% be devoted to you, yours to do with as you please all day, every day. And the only thing I can do is watch you enjoy yourself..... OK. Do it! Call the doctor tomorrow morning! This'll be soooo much fun!"

Tom took out his cellphone. "Why wait til tomorrow? I'll just claim it's an emergency and you're in a lot of pain....."

"Just promise me one thing."

"OK?"

"While we wait for the ambulance please fuck my brains out so I can feel your cock in me one more time! I'll miss cumming so much.... But I want to show you I really mean it. I'm only a womb, and I'll be yours. This is the best way to prove I belong to you and you alone. ❤️"

[d3wdropz]

Sukuna NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, smut, trueform, overstimulation, degradation, fingering, oral (fem receiving and giving), creampie, breeding, doggy style, cowgirl, mating press, light spanking, hairpulling, fingering, blowjob, dom! sukuna, p in v, no protection, double-dickery, and that's all (I think)

A/N: hiii! I have never really written a fic on tumblr so i'm hoping it goes well- plz have mercy on me and my horny ass

Thank you @roseschoices for the beautiful banner!

♡- Dominant. A rough dom at that. Also kind of demanding, but only bc he knows you love it

♡- He loves being in control, refuses to let you top or call the shots. If you think riding him helps, you are so wrong. Sukuna's just gonna grab your hips and start pounding- best thing to do is hold on tight and enjoy it

♡- His punishments are never like BDSM extreme with whips and chains. In his mind, sex has an end goal and prolonging it can be fun, but not when it feels like a chore for him. Sukuna loves some bratty behavior, but it gets on his nerves sooo fast

♡- Sukuna just expects you to be an obedient little girl, but if you're not be prepared for some rough backshots and hair-pulling that leaves your scalp sore

♡- He won't slap your ass hard, more so as a way of warning you when to shut up

♡- Speaking of hair-pulling, he uses your hair/head like it's some fucking handlebar- especially when you give him head. Bc he has you in an iron grip, he gets to choose the pace, how deep you take him, and whether you swallow or not

♡- He has definitely said shit like "Come on, slut- I'm keeping you here until you swallow" and he means it. So either guzzle that baby-batter or get ready for a long night

♡- You'll have one of his cocks in your mouth while jerking off the other. That's not enough tho, best believe he wants both sucked dry

♡- Sukuna doesn't just like getting head, he'll dive into your pussy for hours. And he's not just gonna eat it, he's gonna take his time sucking on your clit and scissoring open your cunt until you're crying

♡- Your thighs will be clamped around his head, hands pulling on his hair, begging for him to give you a break. Sukuna just chuckles and watches you shiver from the vibrations before he uses one pair of arms to hold your thighs open and the other to work you to your next orgasm

♡- He degrades you in the best ways, not that "You're my bitch" type shit, but the really good stuff

♡- "My poor little slut's getting sensitive" he says as he speeds up his thrusts, "Don't worry, just need you to cum again for me. Promise this'll be the last one" fucking liar

♡- One of his favorite positions is the mating press. One cock fucking you open, the other bumping against your tummy while you beg for more- or in you ass, depends on his mood

♡- He cums so much, it's thick and a little sour but very creamy. One load from just a singular cock leaves your mouth flooded. And bc of his double-dickery, expect to be stuffed full

♡- Sukuna believes the only place his cum should be is inside you, he doesn't care if it's your mouth or pussy, long as it's not wasted

♡- When he is in the breeding mood, expect at least six rounds. Three for each dick, and atleast two orgasms for you each round

♡- He loves fucking you stupid, overstimulation is his favorite thing. The main reason is because Sukuna loves watching you go dumb on his dicks

♡- "Fuck- that's my girl" you can barely hear him over the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass, heavy balls smacking at your clit "Can feel you getting closer- that's right, princess, come for me"

♡- Sukuna's pride is also a big reason why he loves making you cum so much. He wants you to know that nobody else will make you feel anywhere near as good as he does. Gets a shit eating grin when he feels you tighten onto his cock for the fifth time

♡- No matter how much of an asshole he is, he knows that taking both cocks at once is a process. The day you finally give the okay is gonna be when he spends twice as much time prepping you

♡- For once, praise is going to be flowing from his mouth "Doing so good for me, baby" and "Just a little more, you can take it" are just a few examples

♡- He'll eat you out, then finger you for hours until you're begging for his cocks

♡- Which I forgot to mention that one of his fingers alone is as thick as like two of your own

♡- Back to the fucking- he wants to get you into a fucked out headspace to help ease the pain, so prepare yourself for five rounds, eight orgasms, and atleast two squirts until he finally gives you both cocks

♡- You will be thankful he did all that prep cause damn, those cocks are big. One alone is like 9 inches, and so thick you can barely wrap your hands around it. So both at the same time is a tight squeeze

♡- Enjoy the view though, cause this man is going to lose it. You're tight pussy squeezing both of his dicks is gonna make him forget everything and just jackhammer your pussy

♡- Sukuna will be whimpering "Oh shit- fucking best pussy I've ever had. Fuck, that's my girl, take it- take it"

♡- By the end of it all, you'll be stuffed beyond belief and practically passed out

♡- If it means anything, his aftercare is. . . okay. He'll clean up the mess he made, give you some water, and fall alseep with you wrapped in his arms

♡- Overall, 10/10 experience- would recommend

[thriftedtchotchkes]

his favorite girl, part i

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel agrees to teach you how to play guitar for a college course, but you can't keep your eyes off him long enough to learn. he really likes that.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, guitar teacher!joel, no outbreak, big age gap (reader’s 22, joel’s 56), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, slight dubcon, touching, smut for later chapters, some fluff, mostly angst

word count: 3.3k

a/n: my first chaptered fic! dedicated to joel's fingers! i've been playing guitar a lot more lately so...yeah 🥲 thinking this'll probably be 3 or 4 chapters? as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated! hope y'all enjoyy

Don’t stare at his fingers. Don’t stare at his fingers. He’s doing you a huge favor by teaching you to play guitar in the first place. The least you can do is pay attention and stop staring at his fingers. 

But it’s a lost cause, and you know it, because you’d have no hope of learning without staring at his fingers. 

Even so, you’re convinced he’ll somehow know that’s not the real reason you’re watching them so intently. The way they hop gracefully from fret to fret, strings biting into his well-earned calluses, producing the most beautiful chords that ring out perfectly with every strum. 

It’s a wonder any of that is even possible for him. You don’t mean to knock his talent—he obviously honed his craft through decades of fine-tuning and dedicated practice—but his fingers are just so thick.

With your clumsy, beginner’s touch, you’re constantly fumbling with the strings, unable to press down hard enough or keep your other fingers out of the way for them to vibrate the way they need to. They just sort of…fizzle.

But there’s a finesse to how he plays. It also helps that his guitar is a lot bigger than yours. It's a totally innocuous thought, but it still warms your cheeks a little. A big guitar for a big man. Broad and tall, with those thick, thick fingers—

“Hey, you still with me?” 

You’re not sure when he stopped playing, but you really hope it was right before he said something. Otherwise, he definitely knows exactly what you were thinking about, and that would be humiliating. 

Not a great start to your first guitar lesson, but how were you supposed to know your teacher was going to look like that? When your music theory professor recommended him, he conveniently left that part out, which, whatever, makes sense. But it still would’ve been helpful to know ahead of time.

Joel Miller. 56 years old. Has a ton of experience and takes on very few students, so you should consider yourself lucky. That’s all of the information you were given before you stepped into his house this afternoon, and were greeted by possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He was supposed to be your ticket to an A on your senior thesis. But you’re totally flubbing it.

“Y-yeah, sorry, just got a little distracted,” you laugh awkwardly, wishing you had said anything else but that. You couldn't be any more obvious if you tried. “Won’t happen again, promise.” 

He’s kind enough to pretend you’re not a filthy liar and taps the neck of his guitar to redirect your focus. “S’alright. We’ll just take it from the top. You remember the fingerin' for the first chord?”

You gape at him dumbly for a second. He’s kidding, right? You might as well leave now if he’s going to keep saying fingering with that devastating Southern drawl of his. 

“Um, yeah, I think so,” you sputter, lying for the second time in a row. You're struggling to recall anything from your lesson but, god, you can only remember his fingers, not their placement. With no confidence whatsoever, you press your fingertips down firmly on the three strings you think he showed you. “Here, right?” 

He quirks a brow. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me?” 

Ah, so he’s that kind of teacher. The 'learn the hard way', 'fail on your own until you succeed' type. Well, he’s about to learn that you’re not that kind of student.

“…Telling?” Your voice lilts with even less confidence. He chuckles, nodding at your finger placement.

“Let’s hear it, then,” he says expectantly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you’re about to find out. You strum slowly, and the sound reverberates around the room. 

Wrong. 

His smile widens just a fraction as you grimace, quickly wrapping your hand around the neck of the guitar to stop the horrible noises still playing from it. You look over at him, wincing, but he doesn’t seem frustrated. If anything, he seems patient.

“Not quite,” he shakes his head, moving his instrument out of his lap so he can shift closer to where you’re sitting further down the couch. The cushion dips with his weight, and you tip into him slightly, but he remains completely unfazed. “Lemme show you again—and pay attention this time, alright?”

You start to nod apologetically, but then he throws an arm behind you on the back of the couch, and all hope of retaining whatever he’s about to teach you goes out the window. Instead of showing you on his own guitar, he gestures for you to hold yours up, gently arranging your fingers on the frets.

His fingertips whisper against yours like he’s hesitant to touch you, softly tugging them into place before pressing down, showing you the right amount of pressure to apply. 

They feel just as warm and rough as you’d imagined, dwarfing yours by a long shot, and the realization makes your fingers accidentally twitch out of place. Your eyes dart up to gauge his reaction and lock with his, deep and brown, and very amused. 

“Doin’ alright there?” he teases, and now you know he’s on to you. You try to play it off, blaming it on your inexperience.

“Just haven't gotten used to using those muscles yet," you mumble, moving your hand away from his to flex your fingers. "Not sure I've ever had to stretch them like that before."

 "'m sure ya have. Probably just didn't realize it at the time. That kinda muscle soreness comes from prolonged repetition—repeatin' an action over 'n over," he explains in that syrupy-sweet accent, completely unaware of how his words are affecting you. "Bet ya use those fingers for a lot'a different things every day, just nothin' long or strenuous enough to leave you achin'."

You bite your lip to keep from reacting. He has to know what he's doing right now. How he sounds. This conversation is starting to veer into dangerous territory, but the weird thing about it is that he genuinely doesn't seem to realize that everything he's saying has a double meaning. To you, at least. You knew all this fingering talk was going to get you into trouble. 

"Uhh, yeah," you agree, side-stepping that line of thought to bring yourself back to the lesson, but it's getting harder to stay focused. "I guess I just thought playing would mostly be memorization, but there's a lot of physicality to it, too, huh?" 

"Yeah, s'pose that's true," he muses, looking down at the calluses on his own hand. This time you refuse to take the bait, your breathing already too shallow, heart nearly pounding out of your chest with how close he's sitting. But he’s still completely calm and collected. "Your hand hurtin' a lot right now?"

You shrug, inspecting your reddening fingertips. "Kinda, yeah."

"It's like that in the beginnin’," he says kindly. "But the more ya play, the tougher the skin gets, and ya won't feel it as much." 

He surprises you by taking your hand again, massaging the tender skin between his thumb and index fingers. God, that feels so much better already. The heat of his fingertips seeps into yours, soothing the painful indents left by the unforgiving strings, and you let out a breathy sigh of relief. 

You feel his entire body tense palpably next to you. It might be your imagination or just wishful thinking, but you swear you can feel his warmth radiating into your side, somehow even closer than before. Your brain’s starting to fizzle more than the sound of your shitty guitar playing, and the room feels a little hotter. Hazier, like a daydream.

"That feel good?" he murmurs, lips practically brushing the shell of your ear.

Definitely closer.

“Y-yeah, feels nice…really nice,” you stutter, voice lowering almost to a whisper as if you were sharing a secret. “The, um—the rest of my hand is a little sore, too. Is that normal?”

You can feel him grinning at your obvious attempt to get him to keep touching you, and he gives in easily. Surprisingly so, and it's becoming clearer that he's as into whatever's happening right now as you are. You’re not sure what happened to the unfazed man from before, but you’ll happily welcome this change in demeanor.

“Yeah, s’normal,” he trails down to your palm, engulfing your hand with his own. “Don’t worry, I'll take care of ya.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his thigh presses into yours, and the arm behind you lowers around your shoulders, his hand skimming the side of your neck. Shit, what is going on? You’re pretty sure guitar lessons don’t usually go like this, but you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. Not when he feels this good.

Everywhere his skin touches yours feels electric, sending jolts up your spine, and making you forget where you are and what you were doing in the first place. He ducks down to press his lips to your bare shoulder, and your mind goes completely blank. 

All that's left is...sensation. Something dragging roughly across your skin, then soft—a little chapped—and wet. Sharp. You're abruptly aware of him sucking a hard bruise at the crook of your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, and you're unable to stop the whimper that escapes your lips. It's soft and inappropriate. A single, hushed syllable.

"Joel."

He lets out a pained groan that rumbles from deep within his chest, and the hand around yours tenses. That boundless patience he had earlier feels like it's about to run out, and the thought makes your blood run hot. 

God, how is he real? How is this real? You just met this man—this much, much older man—less than an hour ago, and, yet, this is probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you. He continues to mouth up your neck, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

"What else hurts? Tell me, 'n I'll make it better," he mutters humidly, urgently against your skin. 

You want to tell him where it hurts the most. That unbearable ache between your legs, the burning in your belly that you didn't even realize he was stoking. But you're so wound up, all you can manage is a frustrated sob.

"Use your words, beautiful. C'mon, lemme hear 'em," he says as if you're his instrument, meant to produce dulcet tones and resonate at his hand.

"It—fuck...it—here," you drag the hand clutching yours down, next to where the body of your guitar rests on your thigh. Where you've already soaked through the thin fabric of your pants. "Joel...need you to make it better."

The gentle vibrato of your voice, the way it shakes tumultuously around his name, and even more so when he cups your heat. His lips return to your throat to feel it, to taste it as you moan for him. And those fingers. You knew they’d feel good, and they’re so close to where you need them. Just a little bit more—but there’s still too many layers between you and his rough touch. 

“M-more…need more, just—,” you whine, and he mirrors the sound back at you raggedly.

“‘Course, beautiful. Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I? 

You're too far gone to even notice yourself desperately grinding into the palm of his hand, or the fingers at your cheek turning your face toward his. 

Or your guitar quickly slipping out of your lap, more and more with each swivel of your hips. It hits the carpet with a hollow clang and, suddenly, the spell is broken. Then, it all comes crashing back. 

He’s saying your name, but he sounds...different. Less breathy, less needy, and more like your patient, collected guitar teacher. Joel Miller. 56 years old, remember? Way too old for you, for your body to be reacting to him like this, and the man whose help you still desperately need to help complete your thesis.

Your eyes snap open and you realize with abject horror that you’ve been daydreaming this entire time. You can’t even imagine how long he’s been trying to get your attention while you’ve just been sitting here, fantasizing about his hands on you. 

Not even ten minutes ago, you promised you wouldn’t get distracted, but you did. Again. And so much worse this time.

By his furrowed brow and the way he won’t even look at you, you must have accidentally said something out loud, too. Something totally inappropriate that you really shouldn’t have. But then, his hand twitches and your blood turns to ice. 

That—fuck, that's not where it was before you zoned out. It was still on yours, arranging your fingers on the frets for the chord he was teaching you. He…he was asking about your hand, if it hurt, and then—

As if you’ve been burned, you quickly release his hand from where you’re clutching it between your legs—not just in your daydream, but in horrifying actuality. You’re screwed. 

Not only is he probably going to kick you out of his house and refuse to be your teacher anymore, but he’ll likely tell your professor. And he’d have every right to. There’s no way you’ll be able to get anyone else to teach you after this.

The reason you’re here, everything you’ve worked so hard for, flashes before your eyes, catching fire and turning to ash. Your love for music, your degree—in the span of a single guitar lesson, you destroyed all of it.

And what would he think? Your father, your inspiration for choosing this path. He’d be so disappointed in you, though maybe not as much as you are right now. 

All of this for what? The attractive, middle-aged guitar teacher you’ve known for less than an hour? He doesn’t even want you and, even if he did, that’s not what you came here for. Stupid, stupid. 

You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bear to look at him, to say anything at all. Instead, you lean down to retrieve your guitar from where it still lies face down on the floor, and slowly stand up. 

“I, uh…,” you croak out, fighting the urge to cry and look like even more of an idiot. You shake your head, unable to finish your sentence, and start to walk away, but then something miraculous happens.

Joel’s hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to keep you from leaving. You turn back to him, eyebrows raised in shock, dropping your gaze to where his skin is touching yours. He doesn't let go. 

“Look—,” he starts, and you wince. It’s never a good sign when someone starts a sentence like that. If all he’s trying to do is let you down easy, he shouldn’t have stopped you. He’s just shaming you even further. “—‘m not too sure what just happened here, but if you just—if ya sit back down, we can talk about it or…just keep goin’ with the lesson…”

You didn’t see that one coming. 

“You want me to stay?” you ask dubiously. “Why?”

You search his eyes for the answers to all of the things you’re not understanding, but come up with nothing. He’s sitting on the couch watching you, still holding your hand like nothing’s wrong. Acting like none of this is a big deal, as if you didn’t basically just shove his hand down your pants without his consent.

“Still got a lot to teach ya. We didn’t even get through the first line of music,” he chuckles, his voice filled with such kindness. So much more than you deserve. 

“Yeah, and that’s my fault. I—,” you pause, still trying to gather your thoughts, “—I crossed a line…made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to do this.”

He sighs, rubbing his thumb soothingly into your wrist, and the gesture makes you shiver. Somehow it’s calming, even as the gears continue to turn in your head. You still can’t seem to grasp any of this or shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with this picture. 

“Well, isn’t this supposed to be a favor for some big, important grade? Don’t ya need this to pass your class?”

He’s not wrong. Without his help, you’re basically fucked for the rest of the semester.

“Yeah, I...actually really do,” you answer hesitantly.

Hope blooms in your chest. Maybe your thesis isn’t totally lost. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even be able to focus on your lessons.

“I think we can keep this professional. Don’t you?” he implores, brows raised.

He’s right again. That’s the only way this is going to work, but it’s still a reminder that he’s not interested in you in the slightest. You’re not sure why that feels so bad.

“Totally,” you breathe out, but your expression must betray your words because he rushes to reassure you.

“It’s not that I—look, I mean…you’re a beautiful girl ‘n all, but…,” he trails off, and…what?

Beautiful. He can’t have just said that out of the blue. Beautiful, of all the words he could’ve used to describe you right then. This man is driving you crazy—and he won’t stop.

“Can’t help feelin’ like maybe I gave ya the wrong impression. I took advantage of ya,” he looks away, pained, like this was all his fault. You have no idea how he came to that conclusion, but he’s got it all wrong.

“What—no. No, if anything, I took advantage of you. You were just trying to be a good teacher,” you shake your head furiously. “Look, I did this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t pull away, now, did I?” 

His eyes meet yours again, darker than before, and you know for a fact you’re not making it up this time. The setting sun is casting shadows around his living room, across his 80s-style leather couch and carpet, illuminating every one of his handsome features. 

And, yet, his eyes are black, endless voids that threaten to consume you. Whatever power he has over you feels dangerous. You knew you couldn’t have imagined it all. 

But it's gone as quickly as it came. He clears his throat, dropping your wrist as if he finally came to his senses. Your patient, unaffected guitar teacher is back.

“I, uh, think maybe that about wraps it up for today,” he says with finality, standing up. “It's already eight, anyhow. You should head on home.”

Gently plucking the guitar from your hands, he zips it up in its case and gives it back to you. You nod, feeling grateful, but cautious...and also extremely curious. His hand finds the small of your back, leading you to the front door, and you try your best not to react as his fingers urge you forward. 

You know you’ll be thinking about them later tonight, even though you really shouldn’t. About them finishing what you started earlier, taking care of you like you still want him to. Part of you hopes he’ll be thinking about yours, too. 

His hand drops and he turns to you with a small smile, leaning on his arm against the doorframe. 

"But, uh, same time tomorrow? And maybe put in a little practice time before then—stretch out those fingers so you're ready to play."

“Sure,” you reply breathily. “Same time tomorrow.”

thanks for reading! part ii coming soon 🥰

(p.s. how are we feeling about finger sucking...okay bye)

[bgyuus]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡° we can't be friends

he was important to you

this isn't accurately based of his lore (his story will be dropping in 2.1) nor even based of the 2.0 storyline BUT ariana grande's new song and album had me on a chokehold sm i just had to write it about aventurine, although i can see this song fitting perfectly with sae itoshi from blue lock too :> (not proofread btw)

"kakavasha!"

you smiled, running up to him with a small piece of bread in your fingers. having to live under poverty because of the 'bad guys' that were attacking your hometown was becoming even harder to find food yet alone shelter.

the boy with with blonde hair and purple eyes- that you swore you could look into them everyday and never got bored, turned to you with a wide smile on his face. "this is great! we finally have something to eat!"

the both of you shared the bread together under a rundown hut somewhere on the outskirts of sigonia-IV, looking over their homes.

the boy handed out a small bracelet, clipping it around her hand as he bashfully rubs the back of his head. "It's not much but.. at least this'll remind you of me."

"kakavasha.." she whispers softly, looking at him with tears in her eyes. the boy's face instantly turned pale as he nods to let you continue.

"promise me you'll stay with me, even if we get to leave this place, i want us to stay together. promise?"

the boy nods at your words, making a pinkie swear to seal their promise. little that you know that such promises were never bound to be true anyway.

time skips to current penacony

"y/n! check out the view!"

march 7th said as they all step down the express, looking over the reverie. the receptionist greeted them with a warm smile while himeko dealt with the room reservations.

"having problems with checking in?"

a voice that sounded so smug made them all turned their heads, facing a blonde man wearing a exclusive suit that was surely expensive.

"i beg your pardon, mr..?" welt asks, stepping in front of the girls. for some reason, you kept staring at the blonde man. something about him was giving off familiarity. "those eyes-"

"you like my eyes? why thank you, friend."

the blonde said in tone which definitely made you feel like slapping him. he sounded so cocky yet you can't help but feel like you know him from somewhere.

"kakavasha..?" you quietly spoke, making the blonde glaring daggers towards you. "Y-you're.. you're alive?" your hand reaches out to touch his cheek but the blonde stepped back. "the name's aventurine. i have no idea who you're talking about." he snapped, crossing his arms.

dismissing you, he went over to welt and himeko to discuss about the room reservations, leaving you, march and stelle alone. "you know the guy?" stelle asked with a disgusted look on her face. "yeah y/n, he was rude to you," march added. you brought out the bracelet that was wrapped around your wrist nearly as you walked up to the blonde who's name was aventurine.

"mr aventurine, sorry to disturb you but do you remember this?"

you showed him the bracelet, in hopes that this was the kakavasha she once cherished. aventurine flinches when his eyes lays on the bracelet but he shook his head a no. "no idea where you got that piece of art from," he replied bluntly. "you're from sigonia-IV! your eyes explains it! i'm y/n, one of the remaining sigonia-IV survivors-"

"i don't know you."

this made you stop dead as you blinked at him. "w-what do you-" "you heard me."

you lowered your head in shame as the commotion was already attracting other hotel guests in the lobby. stelle quickly steps in front of you as march tries to console you as the tears went down your cheeks unnoticeable.

"fine, we'll have it your way then." himeko glares at him, sealing their deal about the room reservations as aventurine lets out a chuckle. "spot on, astral express friends. enjoy your stay." and with that he walked passed you, sending you an annoyed look before walking away amongst the crowd.

"y/n..." himeko pats your back as she felt bad for what has happened between your interaction with aventurine. you only shake you head in response, giving the express crew a small smile, in hopes for them to ignore the fact that the boy you once loved was now a completely different person.

[trueebeauty]

It's a regular afternoon at U.A., and you're in the training grounds with your boyfriend, the one and only Bakugo Katsuki. He's been working on a new move, all explosive power and razor-sharp precision. You, on the other hand, have been practicing your own quirk, pushing your limits.

Maybe you pushed a little too hard.

"Shit!" you hiss as your quirk backfires. A sharp pain lances up your arm, and you look down to see a nasty cut, blood welling up in crimson beads.

Bakugo's head snaps around at your curse. His crimson eyes widen a fraction - to anyone else, it would be imperceptible, but you know him well enough to see the flash of concern. "Oi!" he barks, stomping over. "The hell did you do?"

You wince, both at the pain and his volume. "Pushed too hard, I guess."

He scowls, but it's his worried scowl, not his angry one. Roughly gentle, he takes your arm, inspecting the cut. "Tch. Dumbass. You're supposed to go beyond your limits, not break yourself."

The cut stings, and honestly, you're feeling a bit shaken. Training accidents happen, but still...

"It's just a scratch," you say, trying for nonchalance.

Bakugo snorts. "That's not a fucking scratch, you idiot." But his touch is gentle as he takes your arm, inspecting the wound. "Recovery Girl's gonna have a field day with this."

You wince, not just from the pain but at the thought of another lecture on caution. Bakugo notices - of course he does, he notices everything about you - and his scowl deepens.

"C'mon," he grunts, tugging you up. "Let's get this cleaned up before you bleed all over the damn place."

“Recovery Girl's probably busy with the other extras. I've got a first aid kit in my room."

You nod, letting him lead you back to the dorms. His grip on your good hand is firm, grounding. This is Bakugo's way of comfort - not soft words, but solid presence.

In his room, he sits you on his bed and kneels in front of you. The first aid kit appears from a drawer, and he gets to work.

"Stay still," Bakugo grunts, rummaging through the kit. "And don't bleed on my sheets."

You snort. "Sorry, I'll try to control my involuntary bodily functions."

"Tch. Smartass." But there's a twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost a smile.

He pulls out an antiseptic wipe, tearing the packet open with his teeth. "This'll sting," he warns, his rough voice softening.

"I can handle it," you say bravely. But when the antiseptic touches your wound, you can't help but hiss. "Ow!"

"Crybaby," Bakugo mutters. But his movements slow, his touch becoming feather-light. "Thought you could handle it?"

"Shut up," you grumble, but there's no heat in it. You're too busy marveling at how gentle he's being.

His hands, so destructive in battle, are surprisingly deft as he cleans every inch of the cut. You watch him work, mesmerized by the contrast. These hands that can level buildings are now treating you like you're made of glass.

"What?" he asks, noticing your stare.

"Nothing," you murmur. "Just... you're good at this."

He shrugs, but you catch the pleased glint in his eyes. "Can't have my boyfriend bleeding out because they can't dress a damn wound."

"Your boyfriend, huh?" you tease. It's still new, this thing between you, and every time he acknowledges it, your heart skips.

Bakugo's cheeks dust pink. "Don't," he growls, but there's no bite. He's too focused on wrapping your arm in a clean bandage.

"Not too tight?" he asks, voice gruff but eyes soft.

You flex your fingers. "It's perfect. Thanks, Katsuki."

He nods, sitting back on his heels. His thumb brushes over the bandage, a touch so light you almost think you imagined it. But then he looks up at you, and the raw emotion in his crimson eyes steals your breath.

"Don't do that again," he says quietly. "Getting hurt. It's... it pisses me off."

You understand what he's not saying. In Bakugo-speak, 'it pisses me off' means 'it scares me'. You reach out with your good hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into it, just a fraction.

"I'll be more careful," you promise. "Can't have the great Katsuki Bakugo worrying about little old me, right?"

"Damn right," he mutters, but he's leaning in now, forehead resting against your knee. It's as close to vulnerable as Bakugo gets.

You card your fingers through his spiky hair, marveling at how soft it is. For a moment, the world shrinks to just this: you and Bakugo, his hands now resting gently on your thighs.

"Hey, Katsuki?" you whisper.

He grunts in response, not moving.

You hold out your newly bandaged arm. "Kiss it better?"

Bakugo freezes. He looks up at you, one ash-blond eyebrow arching high. "That's not my fucking quirk," he says, voice dry as the desert.

But you see it - the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks, the way his eyes soften just a fraction. You've got him on the ropes, and you both know it.

"Please?" you whine, pouting for extra effect. "It really hurts, Kacchan."

He glares at you, but there's no real heat in it. "You're such a damn baby," he mutters. But he's already lifting your arm, his calloused fingers achingly gentle.

Bakugo brings your arm to his lips. He presses a kiss to the bandage, feather-light. Then another, and another, trailing up your arm. His lips are warm, a bit chapped from his quirk. Each kiss feels like a tiny spark, but the good kind, the kind that lights you up inside.

"There," he grunts, cheeks now definitely red. "Happy now?"

You hum contentedly, but you're not done yet. Leaning in, you whisper, "You know... I think I've got a scar on my lips too."

Bakugo's eyes widen, then narrow. "You little shit," he breathes, "You planned this, didn't you?"

"No," you admit, grinning. "But I want it."

He knows you're playing him, but oh, does he want to be played. "You're pushing it," he growls, but he's already leaning in.

"You love it," you whisper against his lips.

He doesn't deny it. Instead, he kisses you, and it's nothing like the gentle pecks on your arm. This is pure Bakugo - fierce, passionate, a little bit explosive. His hand cradles your face, thumb brushing your cheek, while the other pulls you against him.

When you part, you're both breathless. Bakugo rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. "You're gonna be the death of me," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. Just a grudging acceptance that yes, he'd let you lead him anywhere.

You grin, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you too.”

He snorts, but his arms tighten around you. 

[haveateadude]

hi em!! if you're comfortable could you maybe write reader relapsing and ellie just comforting her, maybe helping bandage her arms or something? obviously no pressure ,, thank you if you do write it 💗💗

a shoulder to cry on

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ relapses happen... ellie's there to hold you anyway

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ a somewhat explicit self-harm description?? i tried to keep it as vague as possible but it's definitely there and it's mentioned once

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ to whoever who sent the request thank you sm for sending it,, i hope you're doing alright. wishing you the best :)) anyway, love youu. oh and also i hope you like this!!

quick disclaimer - i'm not trying to romanticize self-harm or any other mental disorder. having a shitty mental health it's not pretty or enjoyable, it sucks and it's shitty, it ruins lives. don't wish it upon yourself or others and reach out if you need help.

As soon as Ellie steps into the bathroom, you regret calling her.

No one has ever seen you this sad—this depressed, this… vulnerable. It makes you feel dirty, as if you've done something wrong, like Ellie is trampling all over your boundaries and shredding them to pieces when all she's done is look you in the eyes.

Her reaction seems to be in slow motion, at least that's what you think. She doesn't need to change her facial expression; her eyes say everything. You can't tell if it's disappointment, worry, or something else. You're too anxious to think.

In a blink, she's kneeling in front of you, her hands on your knees while you sit on the cold bathroom floor with your back pressed against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around yourself as you avoid her gaze.

"Baby…" Ellie says gently. "Can I see your arms, please?"

You want to say no, but you don't give any sign of refusal, and you don't fight her when she reaches out to touch you. Her hands are cold against your skin. She stays quiet for a moment, looking at your arm, her thumb making absent minded small circles near where it's injured. She gives you a pained look when she sees your shirt, stained with crimson red liquid.

"Wait for me, okay? I'll be back in a second," she says after pressing a kiss on your forehead.

She leaves you alone in the bathroom, so you stand up to look at yourself in the mirror. Sometimes, when you relapse, it's like you don't even recognize yourself—it's like the person in front doesn't look anything like you. It's a face you can't remember, yet it still is yours. It makes you feel guilty.

When Ellie comes back with the first aid kit—the one you always keep in the kitchen—and a new, loose shirt, she doesn't ask why you're standing now. Instead, she tells you to sit on the countertop, right next to the sink. After making sure the blood is already dried, she helps you put on the shirt she brought.

"I'm sorry," you say first, looking at Ellie. You've been avoiding her gaze this whole time, but now you feel like she's ignoring yours as she looks for the things she needs from the kit. "I know you're worried."

She shakes her head as she, very gently, starts wiping the remaining blood on your arm with a cotton towel from the first aid kit. "It's okay, I promise."

You bite your lip. One part of you thinks she's mad, and the other part tells you she's just scared. She must be, you think. Or else she would've probably left by now.

"This'll probably sting, yeah?" she says, looking into your eyes before disinfecting the wounds.

"Okay," you nod.

It does hurt, and every time you hiss in pain, Ellie is there to kiss your cheek.

"You're doing a great job," she says as she starts wrapping your arms with bandages. "I'm almost done."

You sniffle when she finishes with a kiss on top of the bandages.

It's not that you're embarrassed to cry, but Ellie has seen enough for today. She looks up at you, her green eyes searching for any sign of emotion on your face. And she finds it. Of course. You try blinking the tears away, but it doesn't help. You cover your face with both hands as you start crying.

"Hey, don't hide from me, baby," Ellie speaks softly, taking your hands away from your face to hold your cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears that fall. She kisses your lips. "It's gonna be okay."

She hugs you, wrapping her arms around you, one arm on your torso and the other caressing your hair as you start to sob. All the emotions you've been holding in suddenly let loose.

"Let it out," she tells you. "It's okay, it's okay…"

"I'm sorry," you say between ragged breaths. "I didn't—I didn't mean to…"

"Shh, I know��� I know you didn't."

She holds you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, even after you've stopped crying. You're now only hiccuping as she pulls away, her forehead against yours, holding your hands in hers.

"Sorry for calling you," you suddenly say, biting your lip.

She shakes her head instantly, her thumb brushing your bottom lip, gently pulling it away from your teeth. "Don't be sorry. I'm not mad or anything—I'm just glad you reached out. If anything, I was a little scared."

"Still, I just—I didn't mean to worry you."

"I know you don't like that I worry, and I know you never like people seeing you this… vulnerable. But I'm your girlfriend; I want to be there for you always, and I worry about you every time you're hurt. We'll talk about the self-harm issue later, okay? Right now, I just want you to know you can talk to me whenever. I'll always be here for you." She looks down. "I don't think you realize how much you matter to me."

If you both hadn't been so close, you wouldn't have heard that last part. You're the one to initiate the hug now.

"I love you," you say. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I love you too," she replies. "And without me, you'd probably be fine. You're the strongest person I've known."

"Oh, shut up." You laugh. "Since when are you so cheesy?"

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART THREE

thank you so much for 100 followers and for all the kind replies/likes/reblogs on the previous parts!! yall have no idea how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this fic. things are finally getting a little smutty so i hope you enjoy this part too! PART ONE | PART TWO | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink, thigh riding word count: about 4.3k

As luck would have it, the resort was completely devoid of any major threats. The three of you quietly and carefully searched the cabins and welcome centre, weapons at the ready in case you came across any infected or other people who'd had the same idea you did. There were no signs that anyone had been living here or had even come across the place in the past twenty years; the only evidence of previous life was in the one infected Ellie had discovered, already long gone and practically melded into the wall of the main kitchen. She'd knifed it for good measure, taking maybe a little too much enjoyment out of it while you and Joel watched from a few feet away, giving each other a quick look of concern.

The kitchen itself was disgusting but most of the cupboards and pantries were fully stocked. You watched as Ellie gleefully shoved as many cans of beef ravioli as she could into her pack while Joel grabbed a few cans of tomato sauce and dry pasta.

“Looks like spaghetti's on the menu tonight,” he'd said with a smile, shaking the box of pasta in Ellie's direction, “You ever had spaghetti?”

“Nope, it's just tomatoes and noodles, right?”

“Well I used to make it with more veggies, some green peppers, mushroo-” he cut himself off, making a face, “But this'll do just fine.”

You couldn't help but giggle and he froze for a second to look at you, rolling his eyes when you stifled your laugh and pretended to busy yourself with the box of cornflakes you'd been checking. It wasn't just the mushroom realization that had incited your reaction, but the image of Joel in an average kitchen on an average day cooking spaghetti, maybe singing along to a song on the radio with a dishtowel over his shoulder. The idea of Joel being all cute and domestic was enough to make your chest fill with warmth.

Joel managed to find some more ammo in a storage closet at the back of the welcome centre while you and Ellie searched the cabins more thoroughly. To your absolute joy, most of the cabin bathrooms were still stocked with shampoo and body wash, conditioner, toothpaste, razors, everything you could possibly need to actually give yourself a bit of a pamper session.

“Holy shit, pads!” Ellie had squealed excitedly, throwing the box of feminine hygiene products behind her in delight, “I'm so done with that cup Maria gave me, it's gross.”

“It wouldn't be gross if you actually boiled it like you're supposed to,” you'd replied with a laugh, opening the box to make sure they were usable, “Mine still works great.”

“Yeah but we have to boil them in front of Joel,” she'd groaned, “It's embarrassing.”

“Can't argue with you there,” you'd muttered, but you weren't sure if she heard you.

By the time everything had been checked and taken stock of, darkness had fallen. Ellie was pretty disappointed about not being able to take a bath until morning but you all decided it would ultimately be safer to wait. Joel cooked up his promised spaghetti on one of the many charcoal grills that surrounded the cabins, and that image of domesticity returned to your mind as you watched him stir the pasta, humming to himself. You helped him where you could, filling up a freshly cleaned pan with the tomato sauce and adding some of the spices Joel had picked out, though he'd said that their lack of smell probably indicated a lack of flavour. You really didn't care though, and neither did Ellie; food was food.

Speaking of Ellie, she'd come up with the “exciting” idea that you'd each get your own cabin for the night; there was eight of them, four on one side of a wide dirt path and four on the other side. Each one had a distinct sign outside with a picture of an animal on it – the pig cabin, the horse cabin, the cow cabin, etc. She was currently traipsing through each one, trying to decide where to settle for the night. Each cabin was equipped with two bedrooms and three beds, one queen and two twin. Your first instinct had been to suggest all of you sharing one cabin, but Ellie had shut it down immediately.

You could only assume that you and Joel would be sharing a cabin, but you also didn't want to say anything until it was absolutely necessary. The thought of him choosing a cabin by himself made your heart ache. You looked at him now, his attention focused on the task at hand as he continued to hum a familiar tune you'd heard him hum a few times before.

“I missed this feeling,” you said to him with a nostalgic smile, “I used to help my older sister cook all the time”

He returned your smile, though his eyes stayed on the pasta, “What kinda stuff did you make?”

“Oh, everything. Curry, soup, casseroles, pizza,” you nudged him playfully with your hip, “Spaghetti.”

He chuckled, “Well, nothing tops the Miller family recipe. Me and Sarah, we-” he stopped, biting down on his lip and inhaling sharply.

Slowly, you reached up and placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it with all the gentleness and care you could muster, “It's okay,” you murmured, fingers stroking tenderly at the base of his neck.

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, head tilting down in a kind of surrender. You inched your hand upwards to cup his cheek, his beard pressing into your hand, and he opened his eyes again to meet yours. He'd done this a few times lately, mention his daughter. It was rarely directly by name and he usually only brought her up around Ellie, as if he was using it as a way to further his bond with her. You liked hearing him talk about the past, something neither of you rarely ever delved into, but it hurt to see the pain in his eyes when he thought of her. Right now it was as if all the lights had gone out, his gaze far away and dark.

“I want to... talk about her,” he whispered, “but it's so hard.”

“I know,” you breathed, watching the way his eyes softened at your voice, “It'll take time, like everything.”

“You'd think twenty years would be enough time.”

You shook your head, “Things are different now than they were. I see the way you're trying with Ellie, how you're opening up and being more vulnerable,” your thumb brushed the corner of his mouth involuntarily but neither of you flinched, “You love her, don't you?”

He closed his eyes again and nodded slowly, “I do,” he whispered, “It scares the hell outta me.”

“Of course it does. That's normal, Joel,” you reassured him softly, “And it doesn't make you weak either.”

He'd opened his eyes again and they'd drifted to Ellie, who was a fair distance away trying to readjust a cabin sign with a duck on it that had fallen over. He smiled fondly at her, staring in her direction for a few seconds before turning back to you.

“So which cabin are you gonna pick?” he asked, slowly pulling away from your touch and bringing his attention back to the food, “I hear the duck one is pretty popular.”

Your hand felt empty without his cheek under it but you understood; she was too close, if she looked in your direction she'd see the way you were standing together. You cleared your throat and started stirring the sauce as it began to simmer.

“I don't know, maybe the dog one. I miss my dog,” you frowned to yourself, “Or maybe the horse 'cause I miss Callus.”

“Now this conversation is just downright depressing,” he sighed dramatically, “How 'bout the sheep one? Reckon the bed'll be fluffier?” he grinned at you and you nudged him again, rolling your eyes playfully. “Or the pig one? Maybe the sheets'll smell like bacon.”

You made a face, “You're gross.”

“And you love it,” he said it with a flirtatious air that was palpable immediately and it stunned you momentarily, your eyes widening a bit as you felt your face get hot. At the same moment his smile faded and a look of recognition crossed his expression, like he realized he'd gone too far. He quickly picked up the pot with the pasta in it and walked a few steps away from you to drain it, pretending like he hadn't said anything.

You sighed to yourself and took the sauce off the heat, walking over to one of the picnic tables with your cheeks still burning.

I do love it, you idiot.

-

Joel stayed chipper during dinner despite his moment of sadness – and his moment of flirting. He ended up telling a story about the first time he'd visited a hot spring in his youth, both him and Ellie laughing through a particularly cheeky part about Tommy getting yelled at by their father for peeing in the water. You just sat there listening and watching the two of them, a smile practically plastered to your face. God... this was your family. This little trio of broken humans had become the most vital facet of your life, not only for your survival but your happiness, your joy, your love. Ellie had become your little pal; it made your heart feel like it was going to burst when you thought about how you'd taken on that older sister role that your own had left behind when she'd died. Relationships didn't disappear...they evolved, took on new forms.

And Joel had become... that, you weren't exactly sure. But he wasn't just your friend anymore, that much you knew from the way he looked at you, the way he surrendered to your touch, the way he touched you back. The way how every so often during his story his gaze would meet yours as a quiet reminder that he wasn't just trying to make Ellie laugh, he wanted to make you laugh too. You loved seeing him so animated, making faces and gesturing wildly while Ellie threw her head back and giggled with abandon. Part of you wanted to inch in beside him and lay your head against his shoulder while he talked, wanted to feel the vibration of his deep voice in your bones and feel the strength of his thick muscle against your temple. You just wanted him to hold you like he did when you were alone; you wanted him to always hold you.

“Well, I'm going to bed,” Ellie said with a yawn after the spaghetti was long gone and the fire had started to die down, “I'm in the duck cabin if you need me. I could take second watch if you want,” she looked at Joel expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

He chuckled, shaking his head, “We got that covered, you go on and get some sleep.”

“Night,” she called back to the both of you, already walking toward her cabin.

You both called back to her and watched as she disappeared behind the door of the cabin with the duck sign outside of it, which was no longer tilting to the side but firmly back in the ground. She'd fixed it.

“She loved that story,” you said with a smile, turning back to Joel, “She's gonna want you to tell it again tomorrow, guaranteed.”

“All good, it'll give me time to prep for my show in Vegas,” he replied cheekily, and you laughed.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you figured the time had come to ask about the cabin situation. Right before you were about to ask, Joel spoke.

“You get lost in thought a lot, you know,” he said quietly, and you looked up to see him staring at you tenderly, “Always wonder what you're thinkin' about.”

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, you hugged your legs to your chest and breathed deeply, breaking eye contact to look at the fire as you replied, “You, usually.”

He didn't say anything and you worried you shouldn't have said what you said, hugging yourself tighter. Figuring you couldn't dig yourself any deeper, you continued:

“I was thinking about which cabin we're gonna sleep in.”

When he didn't reply again you finally looked over at him, surprised to see that he was still looking at you. He didn't look angry or uncomfortable, but his expression wasn't unreadable either. He looked...content. He was giving you that familiar look that he did in the early mornings, blinking slowly, like he was savouring the little time he had left to just stare at you. You felt your face get warm and you broke eye contact, smiling down at your knees.

“Sheep, I think,” he finally broke the silence, voice coming out slightly breathless, “Let's see how fluffy that bed really is.”

-

This would be the first time you'd be sharing an actual bed with Joel, and in truth you were slightly terrified. The last time you'd been in a bed with a man it hadn't exactly been a quiet or comfortable experience, quiet being the operative word, and that's all you could think about now as you opened the cabin door and traipsed quietly through the living room, Joel walking behind you. You slipped your pack off your shoulders once you arrived in the master bedroom, laying your still-lit flashlight on the dresser so you both could see. You and Ellie had checked all the beds earlier and they actually weren't that bad, if not covered in a thick layer of dust that you'd had to shake out. You slowly made your way over to the bed, then looked over at Joel who was still standing in the doorway.

“We probably don't need our jackets,” you said to break the palpable tension, shrugging out of your heavy coat and laying it carefully on a chair in the corner, “There's a sheet, a duvet, and a quilt so it should be pretty warm.”

He nodded and removed his pack, then his coat, leaving him standing there in his plaid button-down and jeans. It was slightly comical that you were about to get in bed with a man who'd been wearing the same outfit for months, but it's not like you could talk – you'd been wearing the jeans, tank top, and sweater combo for almost the same length of time. Which reminded you...

“Oh, me and Ellie found some deodorant,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a lady speed stick, “It's not the manliest scent but I mean, it's a scent.”

He winced as he took it, and you were confused until he said, “I stink, don't I?”

“You actually don't,” you meant it too, smiling earnestly at him, “You kinda smell like pine needles most of the time, honestly.”

He huffed out a laugh and you watched as he reached the deodorant up into his shirt, exposing his stomach to you as he applied it. You caught a glimpse of his stitches, still holding up pretty good, but your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the trail of hair that lead from his belly button to his belt buckle, dark but tinged with a few grays here and there that sparkled in the glow of the flashlight. You suddenly felt a slight throb in your jeans and you quickly broke your gaze, turning back toward the bed and pulling the sheets back to distract yourself.

Now is not the time, you thought aggressively, searching the bedding one more time for anything you and Ellie might have missed, you've spent two weeks sleeping next to this man and now you wanna feel horny? Stop.

“Bright side is we can actually get clean tomorrow,” he said, tossing the deodorant back into your pack and walking around to the other side of the bed, not before flicking off the flashlight and plunging you both into total darkness.

“God, I know, I'm so excited,” you climbed into bed, trying to sound normal as you felt the mattress sink on his side as he did the same thing, “Hot water, can you imagine? I might not leave.”

He chuckled and it made you smile. He wants you here, you reminded yourself, there's no need to be so nervous.

You inhaled deeply and, before you could think too much about it, you curled into his side, arms finding their usual place around his solid form. Without any hesitation you felt Joel's hand at your back, holding you there. Part of you wanted to say something else, to keep talking to him, but the immediate comfort of his embrace quickly made your eyes close in defeat.

“'Night,” he whispered to you softly, “I'll wake you when it's time to head for the springs.”

You hummed in response, the promise of a hot bath fresh in your mind as you drifted off. It was that very specific image, the idea of you and Joel bathing together in the hot spring, that gave you one of the best dreams you'd had in a long time.

-

You were suddenly awoken by some kind of weird mewling, a high pitched breathless sound that sounded oddly familiar but you were too sleepy to place it. Your eyes tightened and you tried to ignore it; you'd been having such a good dream. Mere seconds ago you'd been standing in the middle of the hot spring with Joel, clothes abandoned, his bare arms wrapped around you and holding you flush against his naked body, waist deep in steaming water.

Irritated, you tried to bring the image back, only to be interrupted by Joel's voice in your ear saying your name. Your brow furrowed, followed by that weird moan again.

“Wake up,” Joel said again, repeating your name.

You slowly blinked your eyes open in confusion, the keening sound reverberating in your ears again, only to realize mere seconds later that the sound was coming from you. You also realized that you were no longer tucked into Joel's side, but were instead practically on top of him with his thigh between your legs. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull when you put two and two together.

You'd been riding his thigh. And moaning. In your sleep.

Your head snapped up and you immediately felt like you had to get away, yank yourself off of him and run out of the cabin as fast as humanly possible. You could survive in the woods by yourself, right? You didn't actually need to be going on this long trek with Joel and Ellie, right? You could just disappear and never have to face this humiliation, right?

“Oh my god,” you tried pulling back but felt his grip on your arms, keeping you from getting off of him, “Joel, I'm so sorry, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

“Shh,” he replied, and you wished you could see his expression in the darkness, “It's okay, don't be embarrassed, you're fine.”

“But I-”

“You've been doin' it for maybe fifteen seconds tops,” he reassured you, “I woke you up as soon as I realized. It's okay.” He was still holding you in place and your mind was too muddled to wonder why, so you just shoved your hands over your face, “Hey, it's alright, look at me.”

“I can't even see you,” you muttered into your hands. But god, you could feel him. His thick and strong thigh was tight between your legs, the material of his jeans pressing right against your centre in exactly the right place. You were pounding, beyond wet in your underwear and you were sure Joel could feel the heat you were radiating. Involuntarily, your hips bucked again and you shuddered out a breathless whimper at the sensation.

You felt his hands move from your arms and start to pry your fingers apart. When you opened your eyes and focused on what was in front of you, his face started to become slightly clearer in the darkness. His brow was furrowed and you could see that he was staring directly into your eyes, no signs of discomfort or embarrassment to be seen.

“I'm gonna ask you somethin' and I need you to answer me honestly,” he breathed, the sound travelling directly to your core. “I'm only gonna say it once, okay?”

You shivered, trying to focus on his voice, nodding in response to his words, “Okay.”

“You don't have to stop,” he stated, voice steady and sincere, “you can keep going. Do you want that?”

You stared, dumbstruck.

“Do you want to keep going?” he repeated softly, and without hesitation you buried your face in his warm neck, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as you bared down on him.

“Yes,” you practically moaned into his ear, “Please.”

“Okay,” he whispered, and you felt his arms wind around you, pulling you as close as possible to him, “C'mere.” The words practically set your nerve endings on fire and you groaned, pressing your face further against his skin and shutting your eyes tight, hips bucking under his arms.

Not even taking a second to think about what was happening, you started rubbing yourself against him again, this time fully aware of what you were doing. His arms held you tight to his body and helped you move into a rhythm, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips that had become exposed in the commotion. You whined into his neck, feeling the harsh prickles of his beard against your cheek as he helped you get off.

“Joel,” you whimpered, feeling one of his hands travel up the back of your shirt and press flush against your spine.

“I've got you,” he murmured, “Keep goin', don't think about it.”

You keened beneath his touch, hands coming up to thread through his hair as you turned your head slightly to nose against the heat of his throat. Him telling you not to think was laughable – you couldn't think of anything else other than the way your body felt entwined with his even if you'd wanted to. You could feel him everywhere, his hand still at your back, the other one travelling upwards to cradle the back of your head, holding you to his skin. The size of his palm against you, the wideness, it sent a wave of tingles throughout your entire being, causing you to emit another moan against his adam's apple. He was so large and solid compared to you and despite the heated desperation of your embrace, he still held you like you were precious, breakable. It made you that much wetter.

“There you go,” he breathed softly into your hair as you rutted against him, baring down on his thigh like your life depended on it, “Just feel it, take what you need.”

He'd never talked to you like this; the protectiveness was always there, the fondness, but the way he whispered to you now was special, private. He spoke to you like you were his, rotated your hips against his thigh like your body was an extension of his own. His hot breath was a steady presence at your ear, quickening in pace as he began to help you move faster, palming the bare flesh of your back and moving his hand upwards slightly so his fingers just barely brushed the skin of your breast. Part of you wanted to see his expression, see if he was just as turned on as you were, but the question was answered when you brushed against his crotch and felt the unmistakably hard length of him straining against his jeans. At your slight touch, he elicited a breathless groan in your ear.

It was enough to send you over the edge.

“I'm gonna come,” you practically sobbed, eyes still shut tight as you bucked wildly and moved your hands to grip his arms again, nails digging into the fabric of his button-down, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Good girl,” you heard him whisper into your hair, and you were gone, thighs clamping around him as your whole body began to shake. He just held you tightly and let you ride it out, murmuring “that's it,” and stroking his thumb against the skin of your back soothingly.

In any other circumstance you would have been ashamed at how quickly it took you to finish, but it had been years since you'd been this close to another person, and months since you'd had an actual orgasm. The fact that Joel had been the one to give it to you hadn't helped you hold out very long either. Your whole body suddenly felt like jelly, head heavy and eyes unable to open.

“Joel,” you moaned his name quietly, breathless as you lay spent on top of him, “I think I'm gonna pass out.”

He chuckled softly, stroking your hair, “Go ahead, I'm not goin' anywhere.”

“But you didn't...” you mumbled, feeling boneless as you felt yourself begin to drift, “What about you?”

“Shh,” he carefully adjusted you so you were sheltered against his side again, your hands immediately coming up to grip his button-down as you buried your face in his chest, “Don't worry 'bout me, you go back to sleep.”

“'Kay,” you whispered, sighing peacefully and winding your arms around his strong torso, smiling to yourself when you felt his hand in your hair again, thumb caressing the back of your head.

You swore you heard him say something else, but by then sleep had overtaken you. This time, you dreamed of sheep.

[atlafan]

Yes yes plz!! What about a holiday blurb of doctorry and patient y/n during the holidays? He is her doctor on Xmas or NYE 🧐 thoughts?

I sort of missed answering prompts???? Thanks for sending this in, I hope you like it! I ended up going with NYE

Warnings: mentions of blood, clumsiness, and smut!

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N isn't normally one to complain. Any time she thinks to, "Kim, there are people that are dying", swarms through her head.

The night started off so promising. Y/N was headed to a friend's part for NYE. Her friend's apartment has a great view of the fireworks. She was also excited because her friend said a very cute guy that Y/N should definitely meet would be attending. Not that Y/N is shallow, but when her friend said the man in question was a doctor, well, Y/N got a little giddy.

She was all dressed up and ready to go. A sequin dress, dark tights, and heels accompanied with a bold red lipstick. She was feeling good. A few friends thought it would be fun to pregame before going to the party. Just a few shots with the girlies, nothing crazy. Y/N was nervous to meet the doctor, so she had no qualms with pregaming.

Except, on the way to the party, since she was a little tipsy, Y/N stripped and fell on the sidewalk. Why they didn't just take an Uber, she'll never know. Her friends laughed until they saw Y/N's face. Her lips busted open and it's bleeding, her tights ripped at her knees, and one of them was gushing blood. And on top of all that, one of her heels broke. Her friends scooped her up, ordered an Uber, and took her to the emergency room.

Her knees were stinging, her lip was throbbing, and she;s just noticing how scraped up her palms are. She's trying to keep cool in front of her friends. This is a huge delay in their plans, and she feels terrible that it's because of her. Not to mention, what if the cute doctor guy ends up talking to some other girl because Y/N is stuck at the hospital.

One of the nurses gave her a compress to keep against the knee that was heavily bleeding while one of her friends helped fill out some forms.

"Guys, go on ahead to the party," she told them, "I'll be fine."

"We're not leaving you, Y/N. It's not even 9PM, we have plenty of time to get to Francesca's." One of her friends said.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A nurse says her name blandly, no urgency, just annoyance in her tone.

"That's me." Y/N says, and stands up. One of her friends is ready to go with her, but the nurse holds up her hand.

"Just the patient, unless you're family. We still have some COVID procedures here."

Y/N followed the nurse into a small room where she took her vitals. Y/N was still actively bleeding from her knee and lip, but the nurse didn't seem to care, or think it was that big of a deal.

"Alright, the doctor should be in shortly." The nurse and leaves the room before Y/N can ask any questions.

It takes ten minutes until she hears a knock on the door and the doctor comes in.

"Hi, sorry. I was halfway out the door when they asked me to stay, so I had to get back into my scrubs and..." The doctor looks at Y/N who is now sobbing. She's been silently crying for about five minutes, but now the floodgates are open. "You must be in a lot of pain." He sits on the stool and scoots over to her. "Let's take a look at that knee."

"I'm s-sorry." She cries. "I ruined my own night, my friends' night, and now yours." She hiccups, then hisses when the doctor takes the compress off her knee.

"You didn't ruin my night, don't worry." He gets up and puts some gloves on, then grabs the necessary items needed to clean the wound. "This'll sting a little. Feel free to grab my shoulder or something if you need something to hold onto."

"Do you think I'll need stitch-ow!" Out of instinct, she presses his chest with her foot and pushes him back. "What the hell?!"

"I told you it would sting." He looks down at his scrubs that now have a wet footprint on it. "Where are your shoes?"

"In the lobby with my friends. One of my heels broke, so I just walked without them. And that was more than a sting! That was, like, a bee sting, much worse than a regular sting."

"Your skin's probably just raw. What even happened, how did you get like this?"

"I tripped and fell. Ah!" This time she grabs onto his hair and tugs hard as he continues to clean up her knee.

The doctor takes a deep breath and removes Y/N's hand from his head. "I said you could grab my shoulder."

"It hurts!"

"I have to cut your stockings a bit so I can get a look at your entire knee." He scoots back, grabs scissors, then scoots back to her. "I hope you weren't attached to these."

"They're ruined anyways. Go on, cut away."

"So, what'd you trip on?"

"Myself." She groans. "We were leaving a pregame before heading to a party at my friend's apartment."

"Ah, been there." He stretches the material until it tares. He can see how swollen Y/N's knee is. "This swelled up like a cantaloupe, no wonder it hurts so much. Did you land right on the cap?"

"Yeah, and then I skidded." She wipes under her eyes and pouts. "I must look like a racoon."

"You don't." He looks up at her briefly. "You won't need stitches, but you need some skin glue and a bandage. I'll take care of this first, then we can take care of your lip. It looks like it's clotted, so you're not bleeding now."

"Okay." She sighs and slumps a little. "You never told me your name."

"Oh! Sorry." He squeezes the glue onto his gloved finger and puts it on the wound. "I'm Dr. Styles."

"Styles? Is...is your first name Harry?"

"Yeah." He's busy concentrating on closing her wound, so he doesn't see the horrified look on her face. He puts the bandage over it and presses it firmly.

"This wasn't how I was supposed to meet you." She slides her hands down her face.

"We were supposed to meet?" He looks up at her, confused.

"Yes, I'm Y/N Y/L/N...my friend, who's having the party I was going to, was supposed to set us up tonight."

"Your Francesca's friend Y/N?" He smiles. "That's crazy. I was on my way to the party when they told me to stay and help you. Guess it was fate, one way or another."

"I'm a mess..."

"You had an accident." He chuckles and stands up once her knee is secure. He grips her chin to get a better look at her lip. "Top lip's the one that's busted. You're swollen here too. I'll give you some ice in a bit."

"Does it need a stitch?"

"Nope, but I'll put some glue on it so it can heal a little faster. I'm gonna clean this up. It shouldn't hurt like your knee, but it'll still sting." He gets a cotton pad wet with some alcohol, "Now that I know we were technically supposed to be on a blind date tonight, feel free to tug at my hair all you want." He smirks, and Y/N's cheeks redden.

"Jesus!" She hisses as he cleans up her lip.

"You're kind of a baby." He dabs at her lip a few more times, then gets some glue onto his gloved finger. "What do you do for work?"

"I am a baby, I'll admit it. I have a very low tolerance for pain. I'm in IT, I work for that Norton company, the one that protects your computer from malware."

"Wow, that's a huge company. Good for you. Do you, like, code, or...?"

"Sort of. I basically figure out how hackers hack so I can build a stronger code that hackers can't hack."

"You know, while you were talking, I finished taking care of your lip. Guess you're someone that needs a distraction."

"Yeah, guess so. Um, thank you."

"You're welcome." He sits back down on the stool and just looks at her. "I have a sort of wild idea. You're pretty banged up and don't have shoes, and I'm honestly not a fan of huge parties. So, what if I take you home so you can change into something more comfortable, I'll order us some takeout, then we can go back to mine to watch the fireworks. I have a decent view, might even be better than Francesca's."

"I kicked you, screamed, and almost ripped your hair out, and you still want to spend the night together?"

"Y/N, I'm gonna be completely honest, if we weren't at my place of work, I'd lock the door and rip your tights open in a much more private area."

"Oh." Her heart starts racing. "Well, uh, considering that I won't be able to get on my knees tonight, I guess you'll have to."

Harry grins and stands up. "I'm gonna let the nurse know you're all set so you can check out. Wait for me out front in the lobby. I just need to change and grab my stuff. I'm parking in the hospital's garage."

"Alright."

Once Y/N is back with her friends, she tells them everything and lets them know they can leave and that she'll check in throughout the night.

Harry drives Y/N home in a comfortable silence. She was grateful Harry wasn't talking her ear off. She just wanted to focus on pressing the ice pack he gave her to her knee.

"I'd offer to go up with you, but I really want to make it to my place." He tells her.

"No worries. I won't be long. I'm just gonna grab a different pair of shoes and throw some sweats into a bag. I can just change when we get there."

"Works for me."

Y/N goes as quickly as she can to get up to her apartment, grab what she needs, and get back down to Harry's care. In reality, it was barely ten minutes.

Harry pulls up to his building about twenty minutes later, and hands his keys to the valet.

"Oh, so you're like, rich, rich." Y/N jokes.

"You live in a nice building too." Harry laughs. "I like knowing my car is safe in the building's garage, and it's so easy to hand the keys to the valet. "Our takeout will be brought up to my door. I got tons of different Chinese food. Does that work?"

"Chinese food is perfect."

They head into the elevator and ride up to Harry's floor. He leads her into his condo and gets her a glass of water.

"This is a great place." She tells him.

"Thanks, I like it a lot."

"And there's your view, your couch is in the perfect spot." Y/N goes over to it and sits down. Harry sits down next to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders.

"Is this okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Her eyes flit to his lips. "How am I supposed to kiss you with my busted lip?"

"Your bottom lip isn't busted." He reaches with his free hand and presses his thumb into it. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Yes." She nods and lets her eyes flutter closed.

Harry's lips gently takes Y/N's bottom lip between them. The tip of his tongue swipes over it before giving it a little suck. He pulls back to look at her. "Okay?"

"Yeah, do it again." She slides her arms around his neck and pulls him close.

Y/N parts her lips and licks into Harry's mouth. He moans softly against her and grips her jaw. They both sink into it a little more, but Y/N whimpers and pulls back.

"This is so annoying." She frowns. "It hurts too much."

"How's your neck feel?"

"Fine, why?"

"Can I kiss you there?"

"Yes." She nods. "And I work from home, so you can leave marks."

"You get better by the second." He grinned and leaned forward to start kissing on her neck.

He licks up the side and nips at the spot just under her earlobe. Y/N slides her fingers into Harry's hair and moans as his teeth graze her skin.

"Can't handle an alcohol wipe to a wound, but you're panting like a dog from getting your neck bitten." He smirks. "Interesting."

"I'm a very complex person."

"I can see that." He looks down between them, then back up at her. "Can I go down on you?"

"What?!" She laughs. "Why, so you can do it for two seconds and pretend like you did me a huge favor just to get your dick wet?"

"Um, no, because I like it and I want to taste you and make you feel good."

"Be serious."

"I am." He puts his hand on her shoulder and lays her down. "Let me prove it."

"Be my guest." She opens her legs. "Rip them like you said you would have."

Harry rucks up the skirt of Y/N's dress and gets a grip on the crotch of her tights. He rips them easily and is delighted to see her bare cunt. He spits down onto it and puts his mouth on her, sucking his spit back in, then spitting it into her. He drags his tongue up her clit and swirls the tip of his tongue around it. He spreads her legs wider, pressing his large hands into her thighs. He moans as he sucks on her clit, and moans harder when he feels her fingers suddenly tugging at his roots.

He brings his tongue back down to her opening and licks inside, sucking on her entire pussy. Y/N moans and writhes under him, feeling squirmy and hot and good. His tongue curls up against her spongey front wall and he brings his thumb to her clit to rub on.

"Oh, shit." She gasps and arches her back. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop." Her head moves from side to side and her hips roll towards Harry's mouth. She tugs on his hair and pushes his face harder against her. He moans and chuckles lowly into her, eating her sloppily without a care in the world. "I'm getting close." She mewls. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, dddddohhhhhh my god!" She comes around his tongue in waves, grinding herself down against him.

Harry pulls back just a touch, licking and sucking over Y/N's folds, then brings himself to hover over her. He pecks her lips. His nose squishes to her and they both smile. The doorbell rings and they both sit up.

"That's the food." Harry says.

"Great. I bet it's piping hot."

"Definitely."

"So, it'll need time to cool down." She stands up with him. "Maybe we could continue this in your bedroom to pass the time?"

And that's how Y/N ended up missing the fireworks at Francesca's party. She missed them at Harry's as well, but that was only because he was fucking into her so deeply that he was able to give her a vaginal orgasm. 2024 is going to be a great year, she can feel it.

[asterifish]

Helowwww can you do a song Mingi x male reader of them dating for years, Mingi and male reader are childhood friends before mingi met Yunho, Mingi and reader started dating when they are 16, lemme add up that reader is rich rich rich being an heir of a Korean family (you choose the last name) and the CEO of their family company. Reader proposed to Mingi before they went to Coachella.

After week 2 of Coachella during their after party, Mingi finally comes out of the closet, before stating that he is engaged to someone, which the members ask on who he is etc. Yunho and majority of the staff know so they are laughing, before Mingi shows the picture of reader and the members are shookt!!!!

You can add more LMFAOOOO

HEY!!!!! omw I cant wait to write this AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! I hope you don't mind if I do a little bit of backstory, so this'll be pretty long compared to my others 🙏

I hope u don't mind that I made it a lil angsty in thee beginning its for the plot 🦶🦶

I really like long plots like this!! Tysm for requesting it!

𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

You're all I've ever wanted. (2k words)

Story under the cut!!

Flashback to when Mingi and M/n were 5.

“Gigi, do you think we’ll get married when we’re older?” m/n asked, tilting his head up at his friend. It was a hot summer day, and they were currently at the beach. M/n had needed a break from his parents, so he’d met Mingi by their rock. Something you probably didn't know is that M/n is an heir to the Han family. They own many buildings in South Korea, and expected him to be the next CEO of their main company, Han Electro.

Mingi couldn’t help but smile at the question before squatting next to the younger. “How about we make a promise? If neither of us are married at the age of 23, we’ll get married, okay?” M/n smiled and nodded, reaching up to hug his friend. Just as they let go, a man came up to them and grabbed m/n’s arm. “You stupid brat, what have I told you about running off? How can we expect you to run a company successfully if you keep doing this?” This stupid man was m/n’s father. M/n sighed and got up, dusting off his legs before smiling and waving to his friend, “Bye gigi! I’ll see you soon!” Mingi waved back and then after a few minutes he went home.

Fast forward 10 years, and now they were both 15. In a few days it was Mingi’s birthday, and he was looking forward to it. At this time, he and M/n barely hung out, but M/n always sent Mingi small gifts and clothes and stuff. Expensive stuff. For his 15th birthday, m/n have sent him a Louis Vuitton bracelet and a jacket to go with it. A few years earlier when m/n was on a business trip with his parents, Mingi had met Yunho, and the rest of ATEEZ. They had all teased Mingi when he told them that m/n was the one that had bought them for him.

A few days later, On Mingi’s 16th, M/n had showed up at his front door with a bouquet of flowers, and a sign that said ‘Will you go out with me?’ Mingi was overjoyed and obviously said yes. AFter that, they were closer than ever. M/n had told his father that he needed a break for a bit, so he was allowed one week of freedom. The two went on movie dates, dinner dates, and even spent nights with each other. They cuddled and watched movies before falling asleep.

When m/n had gone on a business trip again two weeks before ATEEZ was to leave for Coachella, he’d come back with a Kawasaki H2R (sports motorcycle). “Baby… are you trying to win me over?” Mingi had asked, a smile on his face. M/n had a guilty smile on his face as he nodded. After they put the bike in the garage, they sat on the couch together, m/nin Mingi’s arms. “You don’t have to win me over, you’re already mine.” Mingi whispered, and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. Fast forward to present day.

ATEEZ was about to fly out of Korea, getting ready for Coachella. M/n knows this (Mingi tells him everything), and was racing towards the airport, hoping to catch them outside. He was lucky enough to spot paparazzi, and then ATEEZ’s van, skidding to a stop behind it. Mingi was clearly happy to see m/n, but tried to ignore him since he was already in the airport and surrounded by paparazzi. M/n slipped a little box into his pocket, and then stepped inside the airport. (I should tell you now that M/n had drawn some of the paparazzi away, since he was also a famous CEO(the youngest ever)) With the paparazzi pushed away from ATEEZ and Mingi whispering something to staff, the two were able to slip away into a secluded area. “M/n! Why are you here? Are you going on another business trip? Where are you ba..” Mingi was interrupted by the younger kissing him. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I just… I can’t keep seeing you and not tell you…” M/n sounded nervous, and flinched when Mingi wrapped his arms around the smaller.

“It’s okay m/nie! You can tell me anything!” Mingi smiled, but even he sounded nervous, not knowing what m/n wanted to talk about. When m/n finally stepped away from his boyfriend, he slipped the small box out of his pocket. “Min…. I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while… but… will you… marry me?”

Mingi’s hands flew to cover his mouth, stepping back from the smaller. M/n clearly wasn’t expecting this reaction, because he seemed scared, but all fear left him as Mingi kissed M/n, and didn’t let go until he was gasping for air, a smile on his face. “Of course I will, M/n, I would love to marry you!” Mingi then rambled about the rest of ATEEZ finally getting to meet the love of his life, but M/n softly stopped him. “Ming… you know I can’t come with you… but.. Promise you’ll call okay? I’ll be watching you on TV, I promise.”

Mingi nodded and pulled M/n into another hug. “And I promise I’ll call you. When we get back can I introduce you to the others?” M/n nodded, and kissed Mingi one last time before the staff found them. M/n was silent on his car ride home, smiling really wide. After their first week at Coachella, Mingi and M/n were on a call. Mingi had told M/n everything that he’d done that week, and M/n was gushing over how Mingi had done a great job during performances.

It was now the second week, and today was their last day performing. Mingi had practically run offstage after saying goodbye to fans, wanting to tell M/n all about it. He was reaching for his phone, but got pulled away by San, who wrapped him into a bear hug. “Mingi you did great!” He shouted, still being controlled by adrenaline.

Mingi just let himself be swung around by San before Seonghwa demanded that he put Mingi down because he seemed like he was about to throw up. “I feel like this performance was much better than our other ones, good job guys!” Hongjoong said. They were now all in their van, heading towards where their afterparty was gonna be. One of the staff members had asked to see Mingi, and they were now talking about the airport situation.

“You know I'm bad at keeping secrets, M/n I couldn’t help it! They were teasing me and I just…” Mingi’s voice trailed off as he heard a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “Baby are you laughing at me?” Mingi’s voice cracked a bit as he asked this, his throat still hurting from when they performed Geurilla.

“No, no of course not baby..!” M/n answered, trying to keep his giggles to himself. Mingi had called M/n right after he’d reached his hotel room, and had told M/n everything. He’d told M/n that after the staff had talked to him, the members started teasing him. They’d bugged him about why the staff had talked to him, and he’d given in. “I’d told them… I was like ‘Okay guys… so there has been this secret I’ve kept from you guys..’ and they fell silent! Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I was like ‘It’s regarding my private life, and I need you guys to be chill about this..’” Mingi sighed after saying this, putting his head in his hands.

“I guess they weren’t quiet about it, huh?” M/n’s voice sounded really far away through the phone, and Mingi guessed that he was in the kitchen making ramen. “Well of course not! They bugged me even more! San almost choked me because he’d jumped on me, thinking he could get the answer out of me first!” Mingi ranted, now pacing the hotel room.

M/n’s laughter bounced off the walls as Mingi put him on speakerphone. “And then what?” M/n asked, his voice louder as he stood near his phone again, the clink of glass on the counter loud. “Well…. I was like ‘Alright.. So I’ve been seeing this guy… and he makes me really happy.. And recently, before we left for Cali he.. proposed to me.’” M/n had scoffed at this, giggling as his boyfriend sighed again. “I guess you can tell how this went.. They laughed at me and I sat there like ‘What??’ but I looked at the staff, and they seemed to catch on about the Airport situation, but didn’t seem to believe me. Wooyoung asked me for a picture of you and I..” Mingi’s voice trailed off as a door opened behind him.

“Mingi? Who are you talking to?” The voice belonged to the member he was rooming with, Jongho. Mingi held his phone up to the other, showing him the screen. “Oh! Is that.. your fiancé?” The boy seemed to still not believe it, but M/n smiled to himself before saying hello, assuming he was on speakerphone. “Hey! I’m Han M/n, nice to meet you! Sorry I'm not there in person to shake your hand.” He laughed. He listened carefully as he heard sounds of Mingi pushing the other out of the room, and laughing as Jongho left. “Okay.. where was I.. Oh yeah! So I pulled out my phone and showed them a picture of you! You know the one where you were cuddling with our cat?” M/n made a sound of acknowledgement before Mingi continued, revelling over the fact that “the members had gone nuts, asking if you were ‘The famous M/n, CEO of Han Electro.’”

M/n laughed at this, now sounding far away, as he walked to the sink to wash his bowl. “Okay Min-min, I know it's late there, and you have to be tired. I’m gonna hang up, okay? You get some rest and call me in the morning.” M/n said, walking back to his phone. “Okayyy.. Goodnight M/nie! Before you hang up… promise you’ll let me introduce you to the members?” Mingi yawned at the end of his sentence, sheets ruffling as he slipped into bed and turned on his side. “

Of course baby! I can’t wait! Now get some sleep, I love you!” You could hear M/n’s smile through the phone, and Mingi loved that. The next day, ATEEZ were heading home. They’d had a long day of traveling, but weren’t tired. They’d heard from Jongho that they were going to meet M/n when they got back to Korea, and had been restless ever since. Mingi on the other hand, slept the whole flight back, having been restless the night before.

When the plane landed, Mingi had jolted awake, almost hitting his head on the low ceiling above him. It took the members a while to get off the plane, but it was worth it because of who was waiting for them. Standing near the terminal where they landed, was m/n. He was dressed in all black, a mask and glasses covering his face. San noticed him first, practically bounding over to the younger. Mingi followed suit, and M/n took his mask off to give his boyfriend a kiss.

They hugged and rocked back and forth while the members surrounded them, already asking lots of questions. “Okay okay guys calm down please, we’re attracting attention.” Hongjoong sighed and shook his head. Mingi was still Hugging m/n, now resting his head on the smallers shoulder with no intent of letting go. M/n smiled at the other members, running his hand through Mingi’s hair. “Hello! It’s nice to finally meet you all, Mingi’s told me a lot about you guys.” M/n detatched himself from Mingi so he could bow and shake hands, but Mingi grumbled and pulled m/n into a back hug instead, seeming to fall asleep a few seconds later.

They stood in the terminal and talked while the staff were taking their bags to the van for transport. The staff was okay with Mingi leaving with m/n, so after saying goodbyes, they parted ways, ATEEZ to KQ and Mingi and M/n going home.

◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕◕

Hey!! Its the way I could have gone on and on about that Kawasaki but didn't (im so proud of myself for that), I really love motorcycles guys.

Anyway!! I hope this is what you wanted!! I might have added a bit too much backstory, and cut out the fact that Yunho and staff knew about m/n, but honestly i think it makes it a bit better. I hope the ending was okay! I was debating on adding the wedding so I just left it as it is now, with m/n meetinf ATEEZ finally.

Spotify must have known I was working on this because ATEEZ was playing nonstop and I rarely hear ATEEZ even though theyre in all my playlists💪💪

Works belong to @asterifish | reblogs help me a lot!

2023 | © @asterifish

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 2, Unspeakable- Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol use, minor male objectification, mind reading, no Bucky in this section; sorry!

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Sgt. Barnes got a new arm (there's a Lt. Dan joke in there, somewhere)!

A/N: Weirdly, this is one of the first scenes I wrote for this story. I loved the idea of all the women sitting around, drinking, and talking about how hot they thought Bucky was, while Dear Reader tried so hard to convince them that they're only friends; it really built the base of the story in my mind. I ended up cutting it down significantly, but the overall feel of the scene remains the same. Enjoy!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21

Since there were only four women who lived full-time at the Tower (you, former KGB assassin-turned SHIELD spy-turned Avenger, Natasha Romanoff, Tony's long-time romantic partner and Stark Industries CEO Pepper Potts, and, most recently, Sokovian witch Wanda Maximoff), you all made an effort to get together once a month for a Girl's Night, to relax, catch up, and just spend time in each other's company.

"So, what is going on between you and Barnes," Natasha asked when you explained why you needed to cut out early tonight.

You looked at her, confused. "There's nothing going on between me and Barnes," you told her. "We're just friends, Natty."

"You and I are 'just friends,' Pocket, and you don't see me with my hands all over you, 24/7," Nat smirked.

"No one's stopping you, Natasha." With a wink, you grabbed her hand and put it on your boob. She gave it a quick squeeze, but then said:

"Seriously, he's all over you like government money on a bad idea."

You shrugged. "He just likes physical touch, that's all. It's, like, his love language or something."

"I'll bet it is," Pepper said coyly, taking a sip of wine from her oversize glass. Girl's Nights always came with a few bottles of Tony's finest vintage. "Can’t say I’ve seen him touching Steve like that, though. Then again, who can say what those two get up to behind closed locker room doors?"

"Pepper!" Wanda swatted at her, pretending to be scandalized. "I'm sure if Pocket says there's nothing going on between her and Bucky, there's nothing going on." She shot you a wicked look. "Of course, I could always read her mind to get the truth out of her."

Nat clapped, delighted. "Oh my God, yes! Please do it, Wanda! Get all of Pocket's dirty little secrets!" All three of the women turned to look at you with hopeful expressions.

"Go ahead," you told Wanda dismissively. "I've got nothing to hide where Bucky's concerned."

The Scarlet Witch did a little shimmy of excitement. "Oh, yay! No one ever willingly lets me look into their heads," she said. "This'll be good practice! And I promise," she added, solemnly, "I’ll only look at your memories of Bucky, nothing else." Her fingertips began to glow red as she raised her hands to your temples. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it was like a warm buzzing sensation ran through your brain. It felt really--

"Fucking cool," you muttered.

"There's another dollar in the jar," Pepper joked, causing you to stick your tongue out at her.

"Boo," said Wanda, pulling back after a moment. "She's telling the truth. Nothing's going on between them. They're just disgustingly best friend-y. They're just sleeping together."

"I knew it!" Nat shouted in triumph.

"No, I mean, they actually just sleep together. No sex. Just some light cuddling," Wanda clarified. "Not even an occasional groping."

Nat and Pepper groaned in unison.

"Well, that's disappointing," Nat said, throwing back a good sized mouthful of wine.

"She does still have that leather jacket of yours, Nat," Wanda added, giving you a wink.

Natasha feigned outrage. "You thief! You said you lost it!"

"I thought I lost it," you amended, giving Wanda a dirty look. "I just found it the other day when I was unpacking my go-bag. I'll get it back to you."

Nat gave you a skeptical glare. "I'll believe it when I see it, but back to you and Barnes," she said.

"I don't know why you all care so much," you lamented, refilling your own glass. "Pep, you and Wanda have your own relationships we could be talking about, and Nat, you never tell us what's going on between you and Bruce-- I have to hear everything second-hand from Clint, which you know is so weird-- so I'm not sure why I have to be the focus of attention."

"Okay, first of all," Wanda said, "I adore Vision with all of my heart, but Bucky Barnes? Oof. I'd let that man do unspeakable things to my body."

"Wanda!" The three of you stared at the normally reserved Sokovian with open mouths. 

"What?" She shrugged, a tinge of pink creeping up her cheeks. "He's gorgeous. It's an objective fact."

You shook your head, trying to wrap your brain around what she just said. You knew Bucky was handsome; you'd known from the first moment you saw him, but as your friendship had blossomed, you had sort of... stopped paying attention to it? Who he was as a person had become far more important to you than what he looked like. Sure, there were moments when you would be reminded of just how attractive he was, but they always hit you like a ton of bricks because you never focused on it for very long, so it seemed so easy to forget and just see him as Bucky, your best friend-- kind, funny, smart, loyal Bucky.

"And he's just gotten better looking the longer he's been here," Nat added. "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of him, either, Pocket, if I wasn't afraid he'd rip my arms off for trying."

You rolled your eyes at your friend, but she was right-- Bucky had gotten so much better the longer he'd been at the Tower, but that was because he was taking care of himself. He was getting more sleep, so his eyes had lost their dark circles and their sunken, hollow look. He'd been eating better and had put on some weight-- all of it muscle, broadening his shoulders and thickening his thighs. He'd cut his hair short and shaved his beard, leaving just a hint of stubble.

"What are you smiling at?" Pepper teased, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh. Just thinking about how much better Bucky's been doing since he got some stability in his life and people who care about his well being. While you all sit here objectifying a senior citizen prisoner of war like he's a piece of meat," you teased. "What are you, men?"

"Wow," said Nat with a laugh, "way to make us feel like assholes." You just smiled and sipped your wine.

"If the butt plugs fit..." Natasha picked up a couch pillow and threw it at you. You were able to dodge it easily, so you knew the assassin hadn't been actually trying to hit you, though you did have to carefully balance your wineglass to prevent it from spilling all over the couch.

"Ladies," Pepper warned. It wasn't the first time your banter would have devolved into an expensive dry cleaning bill.

"Sorry, Mom," You and Nat sang in unison, wicked grins on your faces.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[svnny-days]

- ready to love | L. Castellan

━━━ ◦ ⋅🔱 i have a plan!

w.c: 451

a.n: just realized this is starting to seem like random pjo oc x reader but i PROMISE it's not. luke comes in soon i promise! (idk how many chapters this'll be so like... it'll be a fun suprise !) also i will write an apology w/ tears on how long this took to get out.

warnings: not proofread/edited (sorry!) also BI!LUKE

series masterlist || next part

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 

the struggle to find the right outfit for the bonfire tonight is a lot bigger than you thought it would be. the decision to wear a navy blue baby tee with baby blue stars on it was a no brainer, thanks to clarisse’s help, but you had struggled so hard to find the perfect bottoms and accessories. when that did finally come to you, there was barely any time left to have a moment to relax before the bonfire started. so you went off to the large fire pit and placed a blanket down for you to relax on.

as you busy yourself with enjoying the feel of the warmth of the fire and your eyes are preoccupied with the stars that hang in the sky, the blanket rustles and a dirty blonde haired boy sits himself next to you, “hello love.” oh gods, it’s him. your face flushes already and he’s only said two words. 

“hi callum,” is all you could muster out, feeling yourself grow butterflies in your stomach. 

the apollo demi-god gently grabs hold of your chin, bringing your face back down from its look at the sky. his light green eyes stare into yours as he smiles at you. gods, his smile is gorgeous. it's like aphrodite herself sculpted him. “you’re the only one with a blanket out here,” he whispers, not wanting to disturb the peace too much even though other campers around you are talking amongst themselves. 

you look around and almost frown at the realization that he’s right, “well, maybe… i can start a new trend.” 

“yeah? let me know how that goes,” he teases, “maybe we can put the blanket to good use later.” what was that supposed to mean? you shake your head and decide to not question him further. the two of you sit together on your soft blanket as the other apollo kids lead the bonfire.

sometime during the fire, you and the blonde boy had snuck off to a secluded area of the camp, to just talk. and well… that’s not how it’s going now. right now, the both of you have your lips locked together and your hands running underneath each other's shirts, touching the warm skin of each other's body. 

this would be a cute moment. it’s your first kiss, your first time making out with a person. it’s in the most gorgeous clearing in the forest, sat atop your soft blanket, the stars are shining bright, everything feels perfect. however, in the shadows of the tree line surrounding the clearing, there’s a certain curly headed brunette boy running away from his hidden spot and back towards the camp with his phone gripped tightly in his hand.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 

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