#it just... i just can`t end thinking about it...
Text
This is part of a longer thing I may post on ao3 at some point but here’s some silly little Jaytim texting AU. I use this format as a writing warmup.
[Unknown] »
Hey. This is Jason.
I have a favor to ask. You can say no.
« tim
uh
1. i’m aware of how favors work
2. what is it?
« tim
?
« tim
hey are you like. good
J »
Yeah fine
Sry. Rethinking this maybe
« tim
what, do you need a kidney or something?
i can’t give you a kidney.
i don’t have any organs to spare.
J »
What ?
« tim
what’s the favor?
J »
I wouldn’t ask if it wasnt important
I’d ask Roy but hes in star city
or Kori but shes off world
I tried dickhead but hes in haven. Cant get away tonight
« tim
yeah jason i get it lol
J »
So Im currently in the cargo hold of a private yacht
« tim
what >?
J »
We’re caught in the storm thats hitting the city its a whole thing.
« tim
are you in the cargo hold of your own volition or did someone put you there
J »
So I dont think I can get back t
No its on purpose
« tim
hang on. you’re in gotham bay right now? in a boat?
jason this storm is really bad.
it’s already sunk a houseboat and a fishing boat at the marina
J »
I dont think I can get back totown toni
Christ you type fast
Shut up for a sec. Clam down
Clam*
*Calm fuck me
Thought I was gnna be back tonight but bc of storm its not looking great.
Can you feed my sourdough starter
« tim
what
J »
4511 overhill apt 6D
Key under the neighbors mat. 6H
« tim
hey to clarify. “its not looking great” ← what does that mean
J »
Starter is on counter. in glass jar
Should just need one feeindg. Maybe 2. depending
« tim
on???
J »
On wwhen I get back?
« tim
so you do plan on coming back
J »
Yeah timothy I’m in a boat not the heart of Mount Doom
« tim
yeah? vaders not there? so that means everything’s fine?
J »
Did you
jst say Vader
As in Darth
« tim
???
J »
Oh my god
« tim
jason are you in peril or what.
J »
No im not in “peril” lol.
Did you see the thing I said about my sourddough starter
It needs to be fed
« tim
wtf is a sourdough starter
nvm i googled it
J »
Its a live bacteria colony you use to m
Oh ok
Yeah so it just needs 50g lukewarm water + 50g flour
Theres a scale next to the jar
Stir until it looks like hummus
Put lid back on
The end
« tim
the internet says if you put it in the fridge it doesn’t need daily feedings
J »
Sure. But that would mess up my bread schedule
« tim
your bread schedule
J »
Man are gyou gonna fuckin feed Breadie Mercury or should I find someone else
« tim
im already en route.
J »
Oh
Ok
Thank you.
Wtf dont text and motorbike
« tim
how about you dont text and Sinking Boat
J »
Hey its not like I’m gonna cause a boat crash
« tim
i was stopped at a red light 😐
anwyay i’m at your place.
1. why do you not have a security system. when you said key under the neighbor’s mat i thought you were joking.
2. how warm is lukewarm
J »
1. I’m the security system
« tim
just rolled my eyes so hard it actually physically hurt
J »
God youre annoying
2. ? Its lukewarm
« tim
ohhhhh thanks! that’s so helpful :) here i am trying not to murder your incredibly important bacteria colony that i just drove across town for but no thats great jason very descriptive thanks :)
J »
Like warm but not too wram, nothing you’d want to take a bath in
Can you fucking
I TYPE SLOW.
« tim
ok.
[Image Attached]
he is fed
J »
Thanks man.
Sincerely.
« tim
so hows the cargo hold going
still intact i assume?
J »
Mostly ya
« tim
pardon?
J »
Slight leakage. Nothing major
« tim
oh? are you a boatologist now?
i dont think you’re qualified to judge that?
J »
Moving right past “boatologist” out of the goodness of my heart.
Chill lol. If it was rly bad thered probably be some sort of alar
Hm.
« tim
did an alarm just start going off
J »
Dont worry about it
« tim
im not.
did it though
also which yacht? im in the marinas scheduling dtabase
blue miracle, serendipity, carp-e diem? which one
« tim
jason?
« tim
if this is a joke it’s not funny
oh cool you’re not on comms either. great.
hey if youre dead again and i just fed your stupid starter for nothing im gonna be soooo mad just fyi
« tim
ugh.
*
J »
Hey
Thanks again for the
I’m not gonna say “save” bc I was doinf just fine on my own.
But thanks for the backup.
Lmk when youre home
Nope sorry lol you dont have to do that.
Night.
« tim
home
J »
Also I just saw your messaages from
Ah. 👍
From earlier.
« tim
you mean from when you said “huh, this boat seems to be filling with water” and then disappeared? those messages?
J »
Those were not my exact words.
« tim
right. your exact words contained somehow even less information
J »
Shut up
I just wanted to
You know. Youre the only one who jokes about it
The only one in the family I mean
your family, I mean
The bats.
« tim
?
the only one who jokes about what
J »
Me being dead
« tim
oh.
ok. well
its not like. actually funny to me. i was just annoyed. sorry i guess
J »
No thats not
Tim. Shut up.
I dont mind. I like that one of you does.
Its better than people talking around it. Like its this big shameful thing I did.
One of many
If I mention it in front of dickhead he does the face
the :~{ face
« tim
wow its uncanny
uh. for the record.
i don’t think that’s the reason people talk around it
if im correct in thinking that by “people” you mean “one specific person whose name rhymes with Rat Can”
J »
Yeah well
I just
Christ never mind. Im sorry. You are not the person to be sayign this to.
Im gonna shut the fuck up I think.
Goodnight.
« tim
oh what, you can’t talk to me about being dead bc of that one time you tried to kill me?
and failed btw :/
J »
Tim
Not to be so unchill
But you know how me being dead isnt actaully funny to you
« tim
…got it. sorry
J »
No. don’t apologize to me
Ever
I’m serious
« tim
like for anything?
what if i killed breadie mercury
J »
You didnt. He is thriving
« tim
he is?
wait. really?
you can tell?
J »
[Image Attached]
Hes doubled in size since you fed him.
« tim
whoa
J »
Yup. Thanks again for thattoo.
*that too
Its stupid but hes kinda my son.
« tim
wouldn’t he technically be like, 10 billion sons
J »
He is my 10 billion sons.
« tim
lolol
wow. why am i so pleased hes thriving lol
J »
Right
« tim
jeez
i was so worried about the water temp
google said lukewarm is 98-105 so i did 98 to be safe
J »
You used a thermometer?
« tim
your instructions were vague!
i didnt want to kill your bacteria colony!
J »
Thanks Tim.
« tim
? you already said that lol
i gotta pass out btw
glad you didnt die: the sequel in a yacht
that would have been so cringe
night jason
J »
Night
*
J »
You up?
« tim
obviously
why
J »
Could use your eyes on something.
[Image Attached]
« tim
morse code but the dots and dashes are reversed and its spelling backwards in russian, ASTITP AYALEB AVD RTSIRP → PRISTR DVA BELAYA PTITSA → PIER TWO WHITE BIRD
J »
Bc it looks like morse but its not, its kind of scrambl
Ok jesus christ .
30 seconds? Seriously? Fuck me
Can I hire you? Jesus lol
« tim
that depends. do you pay more than batman?
J »
The fuck? Does he pay you guys now?
« tim
no.
J »
Then yes. I do pay more than batman.
« tim
how much more
J »
One coffee per codebreak?
« tim
:\
J »
Two coffees per codebreak
Two and a loaf of sourdough
« tim
sourdough from breadie mercury?
J »
Ya
« tim
done
J »
Damn. I feel like you should have higher standards
« tim
i mean i was already gonna do it for free
now i have successfully negotiated coffee & sustenance
im on a roll. nothing but Ws
J »
Ws?
« tim
its young people slang you wouldn’t get it ❤️
J »
I am barely 3 years older htan you.
It could be argued, considering certain events, that we’re basically the same age.
« tim
and yet you text like an old, old man
J »
I do not
Would you rather I texted like “idk brb lmao roflcopter”
« tim
ROFLCOPTER?
oh my god. ohhhhhh jason. oh my god
that is absolutely not what the kids are saying these days. oh my god
J »
Ok you know what. At least I know Mount Doom isnt a Star Wars thing
« tim
?
oh, is it star trek?
J »
I’m 99% sure youre antagonizing me on purpose
But have you seriously not read or watched Lord of the Rings
« tim
no i have not.
J »
Hm.
« tim
what
J »
Nothing.
« tim
……….what
*
« tim
did you NARC on me
to BRUCE
about LORD OF THE RINGS?????
J »
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
« tim
WHY DO I NOW HAVE 3 SEPARATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON “HOUSE MEETINGS” BLOCKED OFF IN MY CALENDAR, JASON?
WHY ARE THEY EACH 4 HOURS LONG?
WHY ARE THEY LABELED “CULTURAL EDUCATION (MANDATORY)”?
J »
I can’t pretend to know what goes on in B’s mind.
That said, I have reason to believe he and Alfred take lotr pretty seriously.
« tim
its a TWELVE HOUR MOVIE
about GOBLINS
J »
I’m not gonna respond to that bc I know youre just lashing out.
« tim
if youve sentenced me to 12 hours of a movie i hate i’m gonna hack everything you own.
im gonna mass text the entire cape wearers community the footage of that time condiment king kicked your ass so bad he felt guilty and offered to personally help you out of the mustard pool
J »
What the fuck
How do you fuckig know about ?????? that????????
Not that ithahpened
What hefuckk ??
« tim
ooooooooo you better hope i love these goblins!
J »
Why are you?? evil??
« tim
you should have killed me when you had the chance!!
sorry.
J »
Its ok. That one was pretty funny tbh.
Oh hm shouldnt have laughed just then. Bad timing on my part
Brb
« tim
uh
« tim
ok…….. getting reports of a “disturbance” at pier two……..
« tim
sorry were you texting me *mid-standoff* with the russian mafia
« tim
ugh.
*
« tim
you know tracking your location would be so much easier if i didn’t have to hack into your comm sys every time
luckily your encryption is garbage but still. its 2 minutes of my life i wont get back.
J »
Not sure I recall giving you permission to track my location?
« tim
oh i’m sorry. next time i will simply leave you to go down with a texas oil magnate’s incredibly tacky yacht, or get swiss cheesified by mobsters
J »
Hey I wrapped up the russians myself
« tim
yeah?
J »
…
Yeah….
« tim
so you thought the 12-minute universal signal jam was the act of a benevolent god?
J »
:-|
« tim
im just saying it would be significantly more efficient if you agreed to a tracker
just one little tracker. you wouldn’t even notice it’s there.
think of all the time and energy you’d save me
J »
I feel the need to point out that you don’t have to repeatedly hack my comms system.
« tim
i mean it’s that or monitor sightings on the gocitizen app
i have an algo that texts relevant pings to me, which is super helpful for when i want an inbox full of random people talking about how hot you are. less helpful for literally every other circumstance
J »
Uh
What
« tim
how hot *red hood is. to clarify
in their opinion
the people’s opinion
J »
?
« tim
the people of gotham city
J »
The people of Gotham city do not think Red Hood is hot lol
« tim
wait
i cant tell if you’re being serious
J »
Uh? Yeah Im being serious? Lol tf
Why would they think hes hot
They dont think Batman is hot
« tim
o…kay…
huh.
how to… hmm
J »
Like nightwing sure
And the girls. Bc of objectification of women
« tim
oh wow
J »
Red Robin. If i had to guess
But when people see Hood its definitely not… that kind of response lol
« tim
what kind of response, exactly
J »
You know like saying “Hey Hood youre hot”
« tim
oh, wow.
okay. ummm
hmm. one sec.
J »
?
« tim
check your email
J »
Ok…?
J »
Oh my fucking god.
« tim
yeah
J »
Oh my god?
« tim
yeah
J »
This document is fucking 45 pages long?
« tim
its everything from the past 30 days yeah
J »
The past
Whaht the fuck
Ok some of these people definitely got hit by Poison Ivy.
This is . Tim wtf. I havent even heard of some of this stuff.
« tim
oof are you on page 14
J »
Im on page 3???
« tim
oh my god
J »
What the fuck
Please please tell me its not like this for Batman too
Tim
« tim
its not like this for batman :)
J »
Ok. Jesus. I would genuinely have to move cities.
« tim
its worse :)
J »
Oh what the fuck
Oh my fucking god page 14.
You get this shit TEXTED to you?????
Ohm ygod. You read this?????
« tim
i mean
no
i glance at it
for security purposes.
i dont like, read it read it
anyway did you seriously not know? haha
J »
No??? Again its not like people tell me
« tim
yeah but
like
theres a certain level of objectivity involved, here
yknow
sorry im trying to find a non awkward way to be like “have you looked in a mirror lately”
« tim
sorry
that was in fact awkward!
nvm
just let me know if you’d be ok with the tracker. its fine if not
i was mostly joking about the hacking
J (From Work) »
No you weren’t.
« tim
no i wasnt
i dont mind though. its like a brain teaser
anyway im going dark for patrol, later
*
J (From Work) »
[Screenshot Attached]
[Screenshot Attached]
[Screenshot Attached]
[Screenshot Attached]
[Screenshot Attached]
Question. why is the average Gotham citizen a raging horndog
« tim
oh my god
you know i can tell you searched “red robin hot” right
J (From Work) »
Figured it was only fair
[Screenshot Attached]
This persons got some mad zoom lens skills
I’d think it was you, if it wasnt, yknow, you
« tim
wow. that is certainly a photo of my ass
…a stellar photo of my ass. wow.
do you have a direct link? i gotta send this to steph
J (From Work) »
goctz.app/user/3824973/post/29348230df3
Haha
I kinda thought you and blondie broke up
back on again?
« tim
no lol we are very much just friends
she has a thing going with someone who shall remain nameless but suffice to say it’s Going
anyway we just send each other gocitizen vigilante ass shots
its a whole genre
they’re like trading cards
J (From Work) »
Guess everyone’s got a hobby?
« tim
the only rule is no nightwing
J (From Work) »
Do I want to know why
« tim
he accounts for a frankly overwhelming percentage of vigilante ass shots
so its too easy
you’d THINK we’d have a no-batman rule, because ew, but due to the cape and his sixth sense for cameras pointed at him, a qualifying shot is actually extremely rare.
← only guy who ever managed to take quality photos of batman
anyway, we put it to a vote. i lost.
J (From Work) »
A vote between you and Steph?
You lost a 50/50 vote?
« tim
i dont wanna talk about it.
J (From Work) »
Right.
So what I’m getting from this is you have Red Hood ass shots in your phone.
« tim
no
J (From Work) »
No?
« tim
well
J (From Work) »
Yeah?
« tim
we don’t like, save them
that would be weird
we just notify each other. professionally, as colleagues
and keep an ongoing points tally
thats all
so i do not currently have photos of your ass in my phone. thank you
J (From Work) »
How many points is my ass worth
« tim
i hate everything about this conversation
J (From Work) »
Its 100% your own fault, answer the question
« tim
if you must know.
points are awarded based on a series of objective scoring criteria.
J (From Work) »
Uh huh. Like what
« tim
technical excellence
composition. lighting and color balance.
dynamism
J (From Work) »
Dynamism…
« tim
creativity
umm
emotional impact
and
subject matter
J (From Work) »
I see.
« tim
ok i know it sounds bad
J (From Work) »
It sounds fucking hysterical Im near tears
« tim
but if you think abou
oh
okay, well, great
J (From Work) »
I’ll let you know if I stumble on any more.
Or is that cheating
« tim
its totally cheating
please do
J (From Work) »
You got it red. 👍
« tim
:)
#jaytim#can’t emphasize enough that this is a silly thing i wrote for Me and My Friends but sharing here as well lol#my writing
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GET HIM BACK! (s. jake)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
includes: making out, skin marking, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, brief hair pulling, choking, slight bulge kink, degrading, praising too, slight exhibitionism, facial, cursing
word count: 3.3k
synopsis: 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰
note: i really hated the build up to the one i posted before so i rewrote it as promised... sorry for the confusion guys ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist
“Your parents home?” Jake breaths out the words right into your mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.
It’s been mere three minutes since you first heard his loud and obnoxious bike speeding down your quiet street. He’s careless and tact-less as always, and for some reason that’s what draws you in even more.
He never keeps you waiting long. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s always one foot out the door of wherever he is, always waiting for a single call or text from you. He knows what he wants and is always vocal about it, a go getter type of a man.
So it was expected to have him climb up the low roof of your porch and hear his gloved hand knocking on your window not even ten minutes after you texted him a not so innocent wanna come over?.
As if that was even a question. Of course he wants to come over, wants to see you any chance he can get. He doesn’t need to think for a second to grab his helmet and ride to wherever you are, so needy for him. He’s known you for less than two months – met you at a party and kept hooking up weeks after, and yet here he is, wrapped around your finger, with nothing else in his mind but you.
You’re not much better yourself, dreaming of his beaming face every night that you somehow don’t end up spending with him. You’ve grown attached to him, so attached that the tearing inside your chest becomes more hurtful whenever you’re not with him, day by day he takes a firmer grasp of your feeble heart.
Your hands are grasping onto his worn out t-shirt, kissing him greedily and breathlessly as he giggles into your mouth, pulling you closer and closer into his chest.
“They came back an hour ago,” you answer, raising on your toes to make the angle more comfortable for the both of you.
Slowly, he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to the other one. “That’s kinda inconvenient, no?” He asks, nosing at your cheek and you close your eyes and nod your head, melting as the leather of his glove brushes against your skin as he lifts your chin up with his fingers.
His warm lips are on yours again, hand pulling your face upward to leave you breathless in a matter of seconds. “Wanna go out with me?” He whispers in your lips. He hums when you shake your head. “No? Jay’s party’s still going. We could go, hm?” He kisses you again even when you shake your head no. “Wanna just stay here?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out quietly, eyes never meeting his.
“Okay, as you wish, baby,” Jake smiles into your lips. “I don’t mind. Anywhere with you is good.”
Before you get the chance to swoon over his words even more, he’s pushing you backwards and against your dresser, putting his helmet down on it before caging you in between his flexing arms. He kisses you dizzy then, angling his face to the side to press and suck on your lips better.
It’s so Jake-like to make you forget about all of your surroundings, to kiss you into oblivion until your lips are swollen and burning. You never complain – why would you when you know you can only have him for this summer, before college starts again and you’ll be out of your hometown for another year. You always take him in, again and again, because you’re scared you’ll wake up from this dream too soon and never see him again. And you can’t let that happen.
This time he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, the warm muscle working against yours. Your hands finally relax from where they’ve been clutching onto his black top so desperately, only to travel up into his hair. You tug on it gently, feeling the slightly sweaty strands underneath your fingertips.
Jake pulls you flush to him, pushes his hips into yours for any type of fraction and groans lowly in his throat when he gets what he’s been craving for for the past hour.
“Couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see me, baby?” He teases, but you’re nodding your head quickly before he even has the chance to finish the sentence. He smiles into your lips as your desperate fingers pull his shirt up and off of him, leaving you pressed to his toned chest.
The two of you messily make your way to your bed, bare of any duvets and blankets as it’s too hot to sleep under any. You fall on top of him and part your lips only to latch onto his neck, tongue lapping over the bite marks you leave afterwards.
Jake chuckles at your feverish suckling onto his skin, never objecting to being marked by you. He tugs on the leather gloves with his teeth, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor, fingers immediately going down to follow your lead and dispose of your top. You’re only wearing underwear underneath the big t-shirt you sleep in and the sight makes Jake’s mouth water. He runs his hands over every inch of your burning skin, impatiently unclasping your bra as you’re still busy with his bruised neck.
You pull away, visibly pleased with yourself, then lift yourself on your arms and smother his swollen lips again. Jake grunts, kissing you almost just as fervently, hands going lower and lower until he grabs a handful of your ass and rolls his hips up into yours.
You let out a whimper at that, an even louder one following when his slim fingers skim over the soaked cotton of your panties.
“You need to be quiet, doll,” he chuckles breathlessly, drowning the sounds you make with his lips when he slips his fingers underneath the fabric and gets a feel of your slick pussy. “I don’t think we would want your parents walking in on us like that, hm?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stumble out, shifting as you’re laying flat on his chest, face buried in his collarbone and eyes fluttering when his moves only grow bolder. You shudder slightly, feeling his long digits teasing your clit with butterfly touches.
“Ease up, pretty girl,” Jake coos, other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you steady when the first of his now soaked fingers slips inside your tight hole. You nuzzle into him further, breath becoming unsteady as you whine quietly. He moves his hand, burying it deeper and skimming it over your walls.
Couple seconds later he adds in the second finger, the heel of his palm pressing to your clit and making you jolt slightly in his firm hold. He strokes inside you slowly, feeling you progressively getting wetter with his every push. You’re panting, hot breath hitting his skin and making his dick twitch in his pants.
He’s plunging his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squeezing him and stretching out his lips with a satisfied smile. You can’t help but buck into the air in the little space that Jake gives you, when he picks up on his pace. His fingers thrust in and out of you, one by one, never losing their rhythm.
Curving his fingers, his knuckles brush against the spongy insides of your hole, making you moan shakily.
“You good?” He asks, the hand on your waist caressing you gently.
You sigh, hands reaching up to squeeze his shoulders. “Yeah,” you whisper because that’s all of your voice that you can muster.
“Yeah?” He can’t help but tease and you can hear the grin that’s plastered on his pink lips. But this time you only respond with a nod of your head.
With your face buried in his skin, hands wrapped around his neck tightly, you know you’re cumming when the warm wave hits your stomach breathlessly. You’re whimpering in his collarbone, really trying your hardest to keep quiet, but with the twitching pleasure spreading through your body, and his hard bulge pressing into your stomach, it’s quite difficult to stay sane.
Jake gives you a second to breathe before removing his dripping fingers and unbuckling his pants with it. He somehow manages to shake out of his jeans while keeping you steady on his chest and you shiver when you can feel his warm cock resting between your bodies now.
“Stay still for me, baby,” he coaxes you before shifting you on his hips.
Next second, you can feel his tip prodding at your sensitive pussy and he glides his cock between your glistening folds, coating it in your slick. He readies you with a squeeze at your waist, and slowly starts sinking his length inside of you.
“Wait, Jake-,” you choke on your words when he buries himself entirely inside of you, stretching you out and making you lose your composure completely. “I’m still s-sensitive,” you mumble out, about to nuzzle your face in his neck when his hands grip your waist.
“Now, up you go,” he says and lifts you up, making you sit on his hips and take in even more of his cock.
You moan rather loudly, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from spilling any more sounds. Jake slowly rolls his hips up into you, quiet grunts leaving his own mouth as his hands settle on your hips. He starts guiding you up and down carefully until you’ve fully adjusted to him.
He only lets go once you’ve picked up on a steady pace, bracing your hands on his stomach, the feeling of his hardened muscles making your cheeks heat up. The way your pussy spreads around him is making him go crazy, and now and then he realizes that the combination of feeling you topping him and looking so fucking pretty at the same time, is nothing less than lethal.
You’re so soft under his hands, soft around his cock, soft hands pressing on his abs – everything about you is so damn soft. You’re making him feel almost too good. To ground himself, one of his hands goes up to your hair and tugs on it slightly, making you arch your back and show your pretty, glistening with sweat neck.
He grits his teeth when you speed up slightly, eyes misty and sparkling down at him in your dimly lit bedroom. You’re riding him so well, taking his heavy cock with little struggle.
“So good,” he pants out, fingers digging into your ass. “You’re doing so good.”
You can feel your muscles straining whenever you lift yourself up, tired legs making you drop down onto him a little more forcefully than you initially planned but you’re rewarded with his low moan and eyes shutting tightly, long lashes brushing over his cheeks.
The room feels almost too hot, the house is too quiet for the lewd noises coming out of both of you. Your rhythmic bouncing on his aching cock soon changes to messy grinds as your knees give out and thighs burn. Your movements are shallow and visibly weakened, so to help you up, Jake brings his knees higher and roots his heels into your mattress only to thrust up into you, meeting your hips halfway.
You mewl, your legs twitching when he makes your hole take even more of him. He can feel your slick mixed with his precum seeping out and covering his stomach, and he desperately needs more.
Swallowed by the haze, you push your hips backwards and try to meet his thrusts, making his moves stutter and a strangled groan bubbles up his throat.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he says through clenched teeth before grabbing you by your hips and pulling you off of him. Before you get the chance to ask what he is doing, you find yourself with your back slammed to the mattress, and Jake’s hands grabbing your calves and throwing them over his shoulders.
When he enters you again, you feel your eyes rolling back a little but before any sound can make its way out of your throat, Jake’s veiny hand slaps over your mouth as he leans his face closely to yours. Your whimpers are muffled now as he picks up on his previous pace and the now changed position makes your walls clump down on him even fucking tighter.
“Keep it down. We don’t want your mom barging in and seeing her daughter folded in half like a slut, do we?” His words only make you moan louder as your fingers dig into his toned shoulders. At your reaction, Jake’s lips spread with a sly smile as he raises his eyebrow. “Do we?” He asks breathlessly, watching as your eyes glisten in the dark room. “You really wanna get caught? To let somebody see you like that? Naughty, fucking, girl. Well, there you go.”
His hands leave your mouth and settle on your stomach instead. You just can’t predict his moves anymore, too absorbed in the pleasure spreading through your body, so when he pushes onto your stomach and presses you even deeper into the mattress, a loud moan ripples out of your lips. Jake groans too as he can feel himself moving so deep inside you underneath his fingertips. He pushes onto you even harder. Your head rolls backwards until you’re nearly facing the headboard.
It’s quite difficult to breathe and you’re not sure whether it’s from the stifling summer air that’s gotten into your room or the veiny hand that’s suddenly latched onto your throat. His hot cockhead seems to be hitting everywhere where you need it most. Nothing but dumb squeaks leave your parted lips and he thrives off of every single one of them, even deepening his thrusts to hear them grow louder.
His thighs clash into yours loudly and you yelp when he leans even more forward and the one hand that’s currently not on your throat clutches the headboard tightly. You can’t even do anything when the wood starts rattling against your wall.
“You like getting fucked like this? Who would’ve thought,” he hums, grinning down at you with the teasing glimmer in his eyes.
His thrusts are deep, making the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over again. The moans you sob out are like a shot of adrenaline in his veins, better than any drug he’s ever tried and suddenly the thought of having you to himself only for the next week crosses his mind. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to breathe without you now that he’s almost sure he’s addicted to you.
He works his length deep inside you. Your vision threatens to turn black and you’re already out of breath when he presses onto your throat a little harder. You send him a half-lidded look and he moves his hand away from your throat to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead because nothing can fucking take the sight of your fucked out face away from him.
Your lips are parted with the ragged breaths leaving them, hands fisting his hair and legs beginning to tremble against his chest.
“So pretty, all for me. All because of me.” You nod thoughtlessly at his words, mind taken over by the feeling of the soon to be approaching high. “So lewd too. Where did your shame go?”
“C- Close,” is all you’re able to say. You can feel every vein on his cock more prominently with every next thrust of his, all of your senses besides touch evaporating. You can’t even hear any more of his dirty words when your climax hits you like a truck, making you let out a loud moan.
Jake wraps one of his arms under your waist and lifts you up slightly, now folding you in half and making your orgasm hit twice as hard. He slows his hips down for a moment to help you ride it out, thrusting his dick with deep strokes.
He’s letting go of you soon enough, quickly forgetting about your sensitive self as he feels the twitching and aching between his legs begin, waiting for his own release. With a groan, Jake braces both of his flexing arms on the headboard and ruts his heavy cock into you feverishly, making you see stars and cry out of overstimulation.
You have to bite on his shoulder to stop the sudden scream from leaving your throat, your whole body ricocheting with his hard thrusts. Your thighs are drenched and so are his, so the skin slapping against skin sounds even louder than before, leaving the backs of your plush upper legs red and stinging.
He loves having you like that, limp because he’s fucked you just that good but body no less responsive to all that he keeps giving you.
“So fucking good,” he repeats himself before abruptly pulling out of your spasming pussy. “Get down here, baby.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you only nod and eagerly pull yourself down on the bed with your wobbly legs. Once you’re lowered enough, Jake angles his swollen cock right above your face and strokes himself quickly, only to couple seconds later cover your face with the thick white ropes of his release. You flinch slightly, closing your eyes as the warm liquid hits your cheeks, lewdly licking everything that’s sputtered over your lips.
“Oh, fuck!” Jake groans, a little pitchier than before, nonetheless just as pretty. You lift your head up from the mattress and swiftly engulf his leaking tip with your lips, milking him until he’s dry. Jake shudders above you and moans, watching you through almost closed eyes as you suck on his softening cock.
You pull away when there’s nothing else to take from him and the doe eyed look you’re giving him makes him weak in the knees. He drops down next to you, brushing your hair away from your cum stained face before giggling and picking up the shirt you’ve thrown on the floor. He gently cleans you up with it, then leans forward to drown you with his lips.
You could kiss him for eternity, be buried with his soft lips on yours. He’s gentler now, pressing his mouth on yours and leaving peck after peck on them.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers suddenly, hazy, nose brushing against yours and making you smile the softest smile at him. “There’s never gonna be anyone else like you, YN.”
And with your heart in your throat, you can only swallow harshly and speak through your clenched throat. “Love you too, Jake.”
There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you just stay in the moment. Heavy breaths, gentle touches brushing against each other’s bodies and soft voices making promises you most likely won’t be able to keep.
“You won’t forget about me, right?” You whisper quietly, looking up at him with misty eyes as he glazes his thumb over your bottom lip.
He shakes his head immediately, flashing you this charming smile of his you’ve gotten so used to over the past two months.
“How could I?” He’s just as quiet. Then he gently takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest, allowing you to feel the hammering of his heart. “All of this is yours. I’ll wait for you.”
And that’s all you need to hear right now.
The two of you get dressed, giggling and smiling like fools as there’s nothing much left to say. Your hip is leaning on your dresser when he steps closer and kisses you again, sucking on your lips sensually and slowly, procrastinating as long as he can only to not part with you yet.
His gloves are back on his hands, helmet under his arm as he turns back to you and tries one more time, grabbing your smaller hand in his. “Go out with me now?”
You don’t know how you’ll be able to face your parents tomorrow.
You don’t wanna say goodbye to him tonight.
So with a smile on your lips, you nod your head and climb out of the window – hands intertwined together and his helmet safely tucked on your head.
But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends
And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end
taglist: @luvkpop @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity
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#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#jake imagines#jake x reader#sim jake smut#jake sim hard hours#jake sim x reader#enhypen jake x reader#enhypen jake smut#jake sim smut#sim jake x reader#sim jake imagines
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thinking about semi-public sex with gojo, except he can't keep quiet not for a second
TW : NSFW top! mreader ﾉ afab! bottom gojo satoru ﾉ exhibitionism ﾉ gagging ﾉ degrading ﾉ reader is kinda mean ﾉ teasing ﾉ orgasm denial (small mentions)
satoru was a risk taker. call it on a count of his cocky personality, or the fact that he was the strongest sorcerer to grace the lands of japan—but taking risk is what made him who he was. there was no one strong enough to stop him, no one to tell him “no” or “that not right”. he did at one point in his life but he never listened. It wasn’t his thing.
satoru was a brat. you’d learned that about him within the first three weeks of your relationship. he didn’t listen. it was like being on his worst behavior was second nature for him. learning to tame the untrainable took time and skill, but you were willing to learn.
he loved to push your buttons, see how far he could take you before you blew. satoru knew what exactly made you tick, even if you didn’t show it externally, he knew on that on the inside you were thinking of every way you could break him apart.
and that was what exactly was going through his mind as he teased you underneath the table with his foot, toes pressing among the bulge that formed in your dress pants as you and yaga discussed business about a current student of his; yuji itadori.
you maintained eye contact with the older man while he spoke, satoru pressing a grin into the palm of his hand. yaga couldn’t see it, but you could feel those piercing eyes on you. expecting, waiting, pleading for some type of reaction but he knew you wouldn’t give in, especially in front of someone.
so he teased and teased, watching you tense, feeling you twitch beneath his toes.
but he couldn’t help but grin as you grabbed his hand entirely to sweet? lacing your fingers together as you pulled him into a vacant classroom. “come on baby, it was just a bit of teasing. it ain’t my fault you can’t handle what i give.”
you’re quiet but satoru knows he won when grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss, one that’s full of nothing but tongue and teeth. there’s a fight for dominance but it’s only because he doesn’t want to give it so easily—all it takes is a firm grip around his neck, fingers bruising his skin for him to whimper like a bitch on go pliant in your hold.
within minutes you’re buried inside of him, his pants and boxers long discarded as you hammer into his ruddy pussy. his knees are pushed into his chest, his toes curling as he lies flat on his back and all open for you. he’s crying, it always ends with him crying. he was somehow still loud, even with his own underwear stuff in his mouth—the material wet with drool and tears. his beautiful body jolted along the desk, the small mounds on his chest shaking too. strands of his white hair almost glued to his forehead from the sweat.
you give a few slow thrusts that drag your cock deliciously against satoru’s spongey spot. he melts, his eyes damn near roll into the back of his head. you’ve been doing this long enough— satoru’s close enough to orgasm—that every touch feels like a shot of pure sensation up his spine.
“come on pretty boy. you can take what i can give right?”
he hates when you do that. he hates when you give him the same energy from earlier. but it’s so fucking hot when you tease him back—when you deliver slow strokes to his throbbing cunt and his cocklet, all red and wet jumps from the onslaught. satoru’s head lolls back on hits the desk, between your words and the amazing pressure of your cock, he was sure his brain was oozing from his pussy.
his chest rises with every thrust as you pick up the pace and it brings him embarrassment just how much wetter he gets. just then you rotate your hips in a way that has his back arching off of the desk and an incredibly loud moan leaving his pink swollen lips.
“what is it to much? this is what you wanted right? to be taken right where anyone could walk past and hear you taking this dick like a whore”
you drop his legs and lean over him, satoru’s legs coming to wrap around your waist as his hands find your back. he knew he’d something to ground him. you grip the edge the edge of the desk and the other grips his jaw, forcing him to look you dead in the eyes as you make his pussy your home, as you force his walls to remember the way you feel nestled deep in his stomach. the gag is completely soaked, just as you are in his cunt.
“we’re gonna go until i deem you fit enough to cum. i don’t care who walks in and see’s. you’re gonna fucking learn satoru.”
© ASTROKNOTT ™ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 !
#𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐗 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.#afab! gojo satoru#gojo satoru#top male reader#dom male reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojo x male reader
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Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)
Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: E 18+MDNI
summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.
contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.
wc: 9k
a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.
Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young
You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you.
You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller.
Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely.
Her words still ring in your ears.
“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”
“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life.
“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said.
You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.
So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you.
But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart.
“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder.
“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says.
“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask.
She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room.
“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”
It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid.
You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you.
You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better.
It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now.
“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say.
That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture.
“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say.
Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”
“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”
You both laugh.
“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles.
You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades.
“I’m sorry,” you tell her.
“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”
Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.
You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there.
At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time.
Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face.
“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy.
She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen.
Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.
“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself.
A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze.
“Mercy?” Sarah asks.
You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass.
Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air.
“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.
“Where’s your dad?” you ask her.
You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around.
“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.”
Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night.
The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller.
Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away.
You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.
“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands.
What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor.
You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.
“Help me,” he rasps.
He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something.
But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies.
As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral.
Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break.
Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster.
When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk.
Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground.
With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence.
This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you.
“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged.
Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete.
For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her.
“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.
There’s a thud and then quiet.
You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill.
Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway.
Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers.
“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says.
“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her.
“But she’s hurt!”
She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle.
Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck.
“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”
You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away.
You wait for a long time.
As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now.
You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes.
Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine.
For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare.
No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you.
He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family.
But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope.
The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning.
You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday.
You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt.
They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you.
He left you to die but you just go on living.
It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night.
You’re on your own.
A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.
At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone.
On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her.
You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.
Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead.
When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head.
It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk.
You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north.
You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival.
By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you.
They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal.
It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.
Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven.
You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached.
Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall.
It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table.
You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home.
Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you.
He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright.
“Uncle Tommy?” you manage.
“That really you?” he asks.
Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.
You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope.
“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”
He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife?
“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner.
And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller.
He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.
It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up.
He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become.
“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up.
He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel.
You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival.
“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago.
You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath.
“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall.
There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened.
At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks.
You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out.
“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes.
“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says.
It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you.
But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious.
“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself.
“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder.
“You should’ve saved her,” you bark.
Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back.
“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say.
You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing.
You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall.
The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel.
Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today.
It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine.
“You okay?” Ellie asks.
She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much.
He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall.
“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers.
It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken.
“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says.
She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out.
Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache.
Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted.
He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you.
The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded.
So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves.
“Want some company?” you ask.
He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in.
Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him.
“Surprised you remember,” he says.
“My best friend’s birthday?”
He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”
“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.”
You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living.
You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything.
You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck.
“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down.
“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.”
“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him.
“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says.
He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.
“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.
Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.
“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”
“Shit,” Joel says.
“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”
“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”
You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear.
“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him.
A thick knot forms in his throat.
There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment.
He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch.
The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end.
“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”
You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out.
It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky.
The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen.
“How’d…”
“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”
You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well.
“You sure?” he asks.
You nod. “I know where to find it.”
He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect.
“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask.
“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains.
You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates.
You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since.
“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes.
He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile.
“How’s she look?” you ask.
He can’t help but chuckle. He nods.
You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair.
You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.
Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?
The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library.
Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor.
He’s still Mr. Miller, after all.
Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”.
He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved.
Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.
“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly.
You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.
You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”
“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink.
He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy.
“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.
He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing.
You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.
You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet.
You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago.
It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek.
“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.
“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours.
It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it.
“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say.
He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went.
You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night.
That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.
He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.
He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning.
And then you kissed him.
Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing.
You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone.
The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you.
That’s when he heard it.
It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong.
She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you.
He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again.
If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself.
He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you.
Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you.
“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon.
Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth.
“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table.
“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.
“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”
“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs.
“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says.
“Dentment is not a word,” you reply.
“Neither is thoard,” Joel says.
“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.
This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life.
But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.
When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.
The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there.
Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips.
He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open.
“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,” he whispers.
“Stay,” you murmur.
He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back.
But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?
He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress.
Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well.
When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further.
You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could.
It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.
After a while, though, it happens.
Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them.
He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light.
You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment.
The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him.
You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper.
You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up.
It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes.
You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever.
You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want.
You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul.
When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass.
You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him.
Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him.
Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.
Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply.
You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this.
You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories.
Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.
Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before.
But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.
You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back.
It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.
Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?”
You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft.
“Pretty,” he says almost to himself.
He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all.
Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart.
You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection.
Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years.
In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you.
Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.
#joel miller#tlou#joel miller fic#bfd!joel miller#jackson!joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fic
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bump n’ grind
a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.
18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.
eddie’s on cloud nine.
his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.
not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.
sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.
he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.
and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.
a long, drawn out iteration of your name.
she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”
his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”
eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.
“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.
“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.
“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.
“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.
she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.
“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”
best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.
“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.
he’d deserve it.
-
eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.
it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.
not that he was counting.
and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.
nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.
he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.
every. last. detail.
you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”
eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.
“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.
“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.
“i’m not sad.”
you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.
sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.
“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”
his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.
“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.
eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.
“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.
“you.”
“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.
his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.
“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.
“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”
he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.
“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.
“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.
“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.
you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.
if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.
you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”
oh god.
“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.
“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”
his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.
“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.
“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.
it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.
“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”
he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,
“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.
the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.
“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.
your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.
“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.
“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.
you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.
he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.
his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.
“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.
that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.
it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.
eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.
“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.
“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.
your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.
his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.
“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.
your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.
eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.
“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.
he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.
yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.
your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.
his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.
an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.
but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie’s munson one shot
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four — just a little
mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to.
when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.8k
content. profanity, alcohol consumption, a lil bit of tension???
booger: r u up?
It’s 4 AM and you should not, in fact, be up. But you are. And apparently so is Sukuna.
You contemplate ignoring him. You can get back to him in the morning and act all high and mighty like, “I’m a proper human being with a life, so no, I don’t stay up until 4 AM like you, loser.” It’s not like anything good has ever come from you replying to his late-night/early-morning texts. You recall another time you replied to him at this hour; the two of you ended up almost getting arrested after sneaking into a reservoir.
Alas, you’re still up and you’ve been rotting your brain on your phone for hours, so your better judgment has gone the way of your last few brain cells.
you: what do u want
You watch as he types something. “Damn, so hostile,” probably. He deletes it. Then, he types again. “Why are you up?” maybe. Deletes it. Then, “Wanna fuck?” before he remembers who you are. He types again and actually sends the message this time.
booger: be there in 5
Part of you wants to prank him. Go to sleep and let the poor guy pound on your door until one of your neighbors—probably the grumpy old lady who lives beside you—scolds him and threatens to call security. It’s a good prank. You go as far as thinking about it.
When gets there, he’s got his hood pulled over his head. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, black sunglasses, and a serious expression on his face.
“Damn, you look so cool,” you say. He cracks a grin and you crack up. “What the fuck are you doing? You look ridiculous.”
His face falls into a frown as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him. You’ve already left him behind, crashing onto your couch as he changes his shoes into one of the slippers you keep for him by your door.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” he says. He sheds the sunglasses and pulls his hood away. You’ve ruined the whole vibe he was going for. “Aren’t you gonna offer me a drink or something?”
You lift your head and point at the console table by the door. “There’s a bottle of Cuervo there,” you tell him. “Get it for me.”
He huffs but does as you say anyway. He picks the bottle up and walks over to you, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “You’re a shitty host,” he says as he opens the bottle.
“You’re an intruder,” you say, snatching the bottle away from him before he takes a sip. You raise it to your lips to take a swig. “Why are you here?”
“Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend?”
You choke on the tequila. “What?” You cough as he laughs and pats your back. “Don’t say shit like that.”
He grabs the bottle from you and chugs a good amount. “I love teasing you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “It’s so easy.”
You slap his hand away and sit up. “I hate you.”
He just grins and passes you the bottle. “You love me,” he chirps. “Wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”
“Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s saying I’m incapable of love.”
You don’t know why you say that. It’s not part of the script, the usual back and forth between the two of you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong.
“Who says that?” He looks serious now. Like he’s about to beat someone up. You know, the usual. What were you even worried about? “You got a gun for me to use on them?”
You laugh at his dour expression. It’s true, of course, that people have been spreading this new rumor that you’re a cold, ruthless bitch who doesn’t have room in her heart for someone, let alone a boyfriend. It’s why you broke up with Satoru apparently. You know it’s stupid and people don’t really know what they’re talking about, that they’re bored and just making shit up, but for some reason, you can’t shake the thought.
What if they’re right?
You put the Cuervo on the floor beside Sukuna and hug a throw pillow to your chest. “I had a dream.”
“Is this where you break into song?”
You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
He doesn’t take the challenge lightly, immediately hopping onto the couch beside you and dropping his head onto your lap to stare up at you. He bats his lashes at you and says, “What did you dream about?”
You place your hand on his face. Then, you feel something wet on your palm.
His fucking tongue.
“You’re so gross,” you whine, wiping your hand on his hoodie. “What do girls even see in you?”
He smirks. You’ve just given him an opportunity and you wholly regret it now. “It’s not so much what they see, but how big it is,” he says, amused by the disgusted face you make. He pokes your cheek with his finger now. “Tell me about your dream.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He pouts, his lower lip jutting out as he looks at you with big eyes, practically getting teary-eyed now. He’s a great actor, you’ll give him that. He’d probably get better grades if he was a theater major.
“I wanna know,” he says softly. “Tell me.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels unnervingly familiar. You’re used to his antics, you’ve had to deal with them since the two of you were in high school, but it’s moments like this that you remember just how much you know each other. It’s a constant thing, always lurking beneath your banter and jokes—it just surprises you when it’s in your face.
You place your hand on his shoulder and sigh. “It’s stupid,” you say. “I just keep having these dreams where I’m running from something. Different things every time. Zombies, ghosts, clowns—”
“You run away from clowns?”
“Clowns with murderous intentions.”
“Okay. Valid.”
You shake your head, smiling now as the teasing reminds you of who you’re talking to. It’s just Sukuna.
“Anyway,” you say as you stare off into your empty living room. “I just… run. And I get to a point where I feel safe until I realize that I’ve actually been cornered. I wake up before anything happens.”
When you look at him again, his brows are furrowed, already in deep thought. He considers your dream carefully. You wonder if he’ll crack another joke, change the tone of the conversation, but of course he doesn’t.
“What do you think it means?”
You squeeze the throw pillow beside you. “I don’t know,” you say. “I should probably ask Nobara. Psych majors know all about that shit, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, they got that Freud dude.”
“I’m not sure that Freud dude is necessarily accurate about dreams.”
“You never know until you try.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment. You can hear the air conditioner buzz, the fridge rumble. You’ve gotten used to these sounds of silence, what with you being more alone than you’ve been in a while. This time though, you can hear Sukuna’s breathing. Quiet, but steady, a reminder that you’re not completely alone this time.
“Is that why you’re still up?” he asks eventually. “You can’t sleep?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not.” Earnest. Sincere. “I just wanted to know.”
You look at him skeptically, but he just stares up at you from his place on your lap, blinking in the light of your living room.
“I mean, it’s not just the dreams,” you tell him. “I’ve been feeling a little lonely, you know. Since… Satoru.”
He cringes at the name but schools his expression before it turns into a full on snarl. “Still don’t know what you saw in that guy.”
“He was good to me,” you say. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He must’ve if you broke up with him.”
You hesitate, but you find it in yourself to insist, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sukuna stands up. “If you say so,” he says. He reaches his hand out in front of you. “Come on. You gotta sleep.”
You stare at his hand. “You don’t think you’re taking me to bed, do you?”
“I am taking you to bed.”
He stays there for a moment, watching you watch his hand, unmoving. “I’m not getting in bed with you. Chill, bro.”
A beat.
“It’s not that,” you say, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. “It’s just…”
He raises a brow. “What?”
Yeah. What?
“Nothing,” you whisper. This is stupid. “You can sleep beside me. It’s fine.”
It’s his turn to be taken aback. Suddenly, he thinks that your hand being in his feels terribly comfortable. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, pulling your hand away. You pad over to your bedroom, walking straight ahead without looking back. Pretending like you don’t care if he follows. “We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s no big deal.”
But it is. Somehow, you feel like it is.
You’re already under your blanket when he follows you into the room. He stands at the foot of the bed a little awkwardly. Like a lost puppy.
“When was the last time you slept in the same bed as a girl you didn’t fuck?”
He’s sheepish now, stripped of all his usual brazen demeanor. “A long time.”
His hand reaches for the hem of his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide. “This isn’t—”
“Relax,” he says, pulling the hoodie off his head. He’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Plain red, one you’ve probably seen more times than you can count. “I just run warm is all.”
You feel your face heat up. What did you think he was doing?
Your best friend slides into bed beside you. This isn’t anything strange for the two of you. You used to sleep over at each other’s houses back when you were in high school and one of you wanted to avoid the chaos of your home. You’ve slept beside each other before. It was never a thing.
But it’s been a while since then. You’re no longer the kids you were, all playful and shameless.
It feels different this time. Somehow.
He’s keeping his distance and you can feel it. Your body is turned away from him, but you can feel his eyes on you. He wants to be closer to you.
You want to be closer to him too.
“You can—”
His chest hits your back as he rolls over to lie directly behind you. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You can feel his breath on your neck.
You swallow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
You feel his hand carefully move around your waist. He doesn’t touch you, his arm hovering just above the thin fabric of your top. “Is this—”
“Yeah.”
He rests his arm on your waist and you feel yourself relax into his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he runs hot, it feels like you’re melting against a furnace. Still, somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
If anything, you might just admit that you like it. Maybe. Just a little.
notes. soooo the besties are doing a thing 👀 how do we feel about reader and sukuna so far 👀 we also haven't seen much of gojo yet but next chapter is gonna be interesting ;)
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I DONT SHARE
this is pt 2 of " FUCKING BROWNIES"
read pt 1 here :
synopsis - you've been best friends with the triplets for a few years and you're currently visiting them in LA. After your hot sneaky hook up with chris, matt cannot keep his attention off of you.
warnings/notes - angst, matt! x reader, fingering, spit kink, voyeurism, choking, slight praise kink, themes of possession
a/n - this is the sequel of my first ever sturniolo smut so i hope y'all like where the plot is goingggggg (she thick) okok enjoy mwah
_____________________________________________
It's after 11pm and the brownies finished baking an hour ago, the boys and I are currently enjoying them on the couch while watching a movie.
I sit squished between chris and nick, leaning on nick's shoulder with his arm around me and my legs extended across chris's lap, his hands mindlessly rubbing my legs. Matt sits uninterested and incredibly quiet on the furthest part of the couch from us, face buried in his phone.
"Matt you good?" Chris asks looking over at Matt from his spot on the couch beside me. Matt ignores him and continues to stare blankly at his phone.
"Mattttttt are you going to try our brownies or what??" I ask staring at him wondering what's crawled up his ass in the past hour.
At the sound of my voice he looks up from his phone at me for a mere second before returning his attention to his phone.
"If you don't have some now these fuckers are going to end up finishing the pan" Nick says looking towards Matt. Matt heavy sighs and puts his phone down before turning to us.
"Nah im good, not hungry." he says cooly.
"what? bro I thought you wanted some brownies..?" Chris asks smirking in confusion looking from Matt to me, I shrug my shoulders at him.
"yeah not anymore, lost my appetite for brownies. I think i'll just go clean up the kitchen." He replies, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
"sounds good to me" Nick adds jokingly.
"wait let me help you" I say, sitting up getting ready to stand up. Chris tightens his grip on my legs and looks at me intensely. I bite my lip at the feeling of his grip on my legs and I raise my eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and pouts at me, not wanting me to leave my place from the couch. I just roll my eyes at him and continue to get off the couch following Matt into the kitchen.
"what can I do to help?" I ask matt politely while standing beside him at the counter.
without looking over at me he scoffs, "you're grown do you really need me to assign you a task?"
baffled but not wanting to poke the bear I step away from him and start to gather the utensils and mixing bowls to wash in the sink.
I start to mindlessly hum while washing the dishes in the sink and matt walks up closely behind me softly saying, "I was going to wash the dishes" i feel his hot breath on my neck.
"don't worry i've got it how about you just go watch the movie matt, i know you're not feeling well" I say keeping my body turned towards the sink.
"excuse me? What makes you think i'm not feeling good?" he asks with an tone.
"probably because of your sudden attitude?" I say bluntly as i continue to focus on washing the dishes. He lets out an unamused chuckle before wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.
"I'm fine, really" he says, nuzzling his head into my neck.
"are you sure? you can tell me what's bugging you ya know?" i say lowly so only he can hear. He shifts behind me and sighs, his arms lazily hugging me still.
"i know but i'm fine" he whispers against my neck, shivers erupt down my spine.
"okayyyy whatever you say matthew" I say as i finish putting the clean dishes on the drying rack. I turn around in his arms and let him hug me tightly, putting my face in his chest.
"hey are you coming back to watch the movie?" chris calls suddenly from the couch and i swing my head towards him, his jaw clenching.
"uh yeah I just want to wipe down the table and counters first." Chris gives me a thumbs up and goes back to watching the movie. "Matt are you gonna join us after i finish cleaning?" I ask breaking apart the hug to look up at him. He smiles at me and nods.
"only if i can have my turn with you as my blanket." He says smiling cheekily. I laugh and shake my head at him.
"of course matt I know how to share" I say with a wink before turning away from his hold to wipe down the counters and table. Matt just leans against the sink and watches me contently. "hey i thought you came in here to clean?" I say teasingly to matt, my back to him as i bend over the table to reach the other side with the cloth. I can feel matts stare on me and I turn around the face him, his eyes already locked on mine and he blushes.
"yeah but you gave me the day off so" he says crossing his arms across his chest smiling at me.
"whatever. I'm done now anyways lets go" I say, tugging his arms and he gives up his hold and allows me to tug him to the couch with me.
He takes a seat beside chris leaving an obvious spot in the middle of him and chris for me to take. I sit in between them deciding to keep to myself.
Chris immediately leans his head on my shoulder and i can feel matt staring at us. I look over to matt and he smiles before grabbing my legs and pulling me closer to him so my legs lay horizontally across his lap, my ass half on his lap. Chris shifts his position and pulls my shoulders gently so that my head rests on his lap and he begins to run his fingers through my hair.
"well you three look incredibly comfortable, I'm gonna head up to bed now" Nick says standing up before turning to me, "and thanks for cleaning up the kitchen" he smiles, continuing to the stairs up to his room.
"hey i helped" matt adds jokingly.
"wrong" I say looking at matt.
"you did not" nick adds before disappearing up the stairs.
"not my fault you didnt let me" matt says raising his hands up and i roll my eyes.
While chris continues to run his fingers through my hair, matt places his hands firmly on my thighs, his fingers resting in between. Matt starts to softly trace his fingers along the inside of my thighs and my core begins to tighten.
I look at Matt with a questioning look and he just winks cheekily at me continuing to rub my inner thighs, causing my panties to grow wetter by the second. My breathing starts to pick up and its as if chris can hear my raising heartbeat, he looks down at me from where my head rests on his lap.
"you good?" he asks quietly, gently caressing my cheek with his hand to tilt my face towards him. I nod not being able to get any words out worried that a moan might escape my lips instead. He smirks at me and turns his attention back to the tv.
When i notice chris's attention is no longer on me apart from his hands buried in my hair, i look back at matt, his gaze still on me, making my cheeks flush.
I look down at his hands that keep inching further and further up my inner thighs towards my heat thats now pulsing so hard he can probably feel it.
"hey chris, pass me that blanket will ya?" matt nods to the blanket beside chris. Chris reaches beside him and hands the blanket over my head to matt. Matt lays the blanket over our laps now shielding his hands that are currently tracing lines around my bikini line.
I bite my lip holding matt's intense gaze and he smirks at me before he finally breaks the stare and turns to watch the movie. He then leans over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote and turns the tv up to a ridiculous volume.
Chris looks over at matt, "dude are you deaf?"
"i just turned it up a little relax" matt says while he watches the movie intently and i watch him. He then looks over at me sensing my stare, "be a good girl and watch the movie" he says quietly, before turning back to the tv. I gulp hard and do what he says, licking my lips with anticipation.
Matt's hands suddenly graze under my shorts and start playing with the hem of my panties causing my to involuntarily buck my hips. Chris snaps his attention to me and then to matt and then back to me with a questioning look.
"sorry im fine" I say instantly looking over at Matt who has a cocky smile on his face as he continues to watch the tv.
"hey i just gotta move you for a sec," chris suddenly says, gently moving my jaw to look up at him, "i'll be right back okay?"
"mhm" i respond as chris smoothly scooches his lap from under my head and walks away down the hall towards the bathroom.
Matt whips his head towards where chris just walked off to and then down at me and he smiles, "how long do you think he'll be?" his eyes looking black with hunger.
"why? you tryna get handsy with me while chris is in the bathroom down the hall?" i say jokingly trying to act like what matt is doing to me isn't driving me fucking insane.
"hmm i dunno..." he says as he lets his fingers slip under my panties and he quickly runs his fingers through my slick once.
"matt!" i gasp, "what the fuck are you doing...?" i say trying hard to hide the smirk growing on my face.
"what? you said you know how to share, dont you? and I want to take my turn now." he says daringly as he intently holds my stare while he slips his fingers through my slick once more. "do you not want to share with me anymore?" he asks, bringing his thumb to my sensitive bud and pressing down firmly on it, my hips bucking up against his touch.
"fuck matt please" i say my head rolling back and my legs relaxing into his touch.
"i'll take that as a yes" he says as he moves his fingers through my slick a few times before he plunges two into my heat as deep as he can. my hips jolt and i moan his name.
"atta girl" he says as he continues to pump his fingers hard against my spongy walls, curling them up perfectly to hit my sweet spot with every thrust.
the knot in my stomach building as he works his finger inside of me and he brings his other hand to grab my throat grabbing firmly. I gasp at his movement and look up at his blown out pupils.
"matt" i whine through suppressed breaths and he smiles devilishly at me, his thumb pressing firm tight circles on my clit.
"i know you may enjoy sharing, but i don't" he says biting his lip as he watches my face scrunch with pleasure. I look at him with a raised brow.
"wha what do you mean?' i mumble
"i mean you're mine and i dont share." he says nodding towards the bathroom where chris walked off to minutes ago. I begin to open my lips again but my word are taken from me as he adds a third finger inside me, slamming them against my sweet spot and i moan out his name.
"open your mouth" he says, his hand still firmly gripping my neck and i part my lips staring up at him. He spits in my mouth, "swallow" he says cooly and i do. "good girl".
"matt m'gonna cum" i mumble, my head getting dizzy from his grip around my neck and the knot in my stomach hanging on the edge.
"uh uh uh not until you agree with me" his hungry eyes looking intensely into mine, his three digits slowing their pace inside of me causing me to clench my thighs around his hand.
"agree with what matt?" i say through labored breaths.
"that you're mine" he says, leaning his face towards mine as he moves his hand from around my neck to my jaw and grips it firmly, lifting my face to meet his. I bite my lip at his words, knowing what he is implying at.
"matt please" i beg, pain starting to take over from my high not being reached.
"say it"
"im yours matt only yours"
and with my words he plunges his fingers knuckle deep into my heat as he aggressively pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss is hungry and needy and he forces my lips apart with his tongue to explore.
my walls clench around his fingers and i moan into his mouth, and he continues to twirl his tongue around mine, fingers deep inside of me as i ride out my high.
once the waves of my arousal stop pouring out around his fingers he removes them and sticks them into his mouth, watching me intently as he sucks and licks my juices from them.
"you taste better than i thought you would." he says casually and i laugh at his words trying to process my second orgasm of the night.
"what the fuck matt" i say slumping into the couch, bringing my hands up to my neck where i can still feel the pressure of where his grip was.
chris comes strolling into the kitchen from the hallway and matt grins at me, his fingers still in his mouth.
"hey matt did you finally get a taste?" he asks as he makes his way to the couch sitting next to where my head rests.
we both look over to him in shock at his words.
"the brownies..?" he asks curiously, pointing to the tray still sitting on the coffee table.
"oh yeah i got a taste." matt responds, removing his fingers from his mouth.
"and..? what do ya think?" chris asks.
"fucking perfect." matt states, smiling at me.
_____________________________________________
CHRIS POV
The way matt's not even hiding it, rubbing her thighs right beside me for me to see.. I can feel her breathing heavily in my lap, watching her licking her lips and staring at him.
As soon as matt asked for the blanket i knew he was going to try something and fuck me i couldn't stay to watch it, I had to leave the room, seeing her body react like that from matt's touch and not mine?
Once I got to the bathroom i splashed some cold water on my face and sat down on the floor.
Minutes pass and I could hear her fucking gasping and moaning his name. Which I hate to admit got me hard. so hard that it ached, not having jerked off my previous boner from earlier tonight with her in the kitchen.
I sit, leaned against the door and close my eyes, listening to her moans and imagining im the one thats pulling them from her instead as i slip my hand around my hard cock and pump until i finish with her.
___________________________________________
a/n - i had the roughest plan for this when i first started cooking so the ending is just as surprising to us both. Hope yall enjoyed ittttttttttt. part 3 anyone? <3
dts - @adg-h16 @stasiesturn @thatssocancelled @aurizp @maryx2xx @sturnthepot @nickgetsmewetter @schlutt4matty @fratbrochrisgf @lovingregulusblack @annasturn0lo @thepubeburgler @6ix9inewiturmom @ribread03 @gabrielle-brun1 @trevor-777 @mattslolita @mattsgf68903 @aliceloveschris @starsturns234
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#smut#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris x reader#the sturniolo triplets
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I always see dbf!Abby but never dbf?reader🏃🏽♀️➡️🏃🏽♀️➡️maybe? Idk
༉‧₊˚. — this is so genius??? thank you anon ily
it all starts when you notice a middle-aged man with dirty blonde hair outside of the house across the street from yours, a look of disappointment on his face. he has many potted plants, maybe too many, and over half of them are dying. you stroll over to his front yard and he wastes no time in expressing his frustration to you, a total stranger who had just moved here with your family a few weeks ago.
“i just don’t get it. i water them every single day. it’s not like they aren’t getting enough sunlight, right?”
you hum in acknowledgment, and he steps aside to allow you to take a look for yourself. it’s almost comical how quickly you notice the cause of his problem.
“it has nothing to do with the amount of sunlight or water they’re getting, actually. look at the soil of the ones that are dying.” you kneel down to feel the soil of one droopy plant in particular– a bunch of faded red petunias– and gather some soil between your fingers. “dry as a desert.”
you spend the rest of your day helping jerry replace the soil in the effected pots over some pleasant small talk, in which he confides in you that ever since his wife passed away, he’s been struggling to upkeep her impressive garden. the hard work is done by the time the sun sets, and he invites you in to wash your hands and have a glass of water.
that’s the very first time you get to meet abby.
she’s about your age, standing at nearly six feet tall. even in her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, you can tell that she’s made of pure muscle. initially, when she walks down the stairs and sees a random girl in her kitchen, having a conversation with her father about invasive plant species in seattle, she’s puzzled, but she recognizes you fairly quickly.
she remembers watching from her bedroom window while you helped your mom to drag a couch in through the front door. she remembers going outside to check the mailbox and seeing you, sitting on your porch, feet propped up on the short wooden fence with a book in your hands. she could never seem to take her eyes off of you any chance she got to see you, so, when she sees you standing in her home, she completely freezes. luckily for her, jerry rushes to introduce the two of you.
“i didn’t even know you were home, sweetie! abby, this is y/n. y/n, this is abby, my daughter.”
“hey,” she extends a hand, “i’m abby.”
you smile as you reach for her hand and shake it. “bet you can’t guess what my name is.”
abby’s nose scrunches up as she realizes her mistake, completely aware that she isn’t thinking straight. she can’t be too embarrassed, though. not with the way your eyes scan her from head to toe like a predator sizing up its prey. “cut me some slack, i haven’t had my coffee yet. anyways, why are you both covered in dirt?”
the night ends with jerry scolding abby for making coffee so late, and thanking you for all of your help before sending you home with a homemade chocolate chip muffin.
since then, jerry shows up at your door when he needs help or simply has a question about gardening, and you never hesitate to help him. he’s a respectable man who just wants to honor his wife’s memory, to keep something of hers alive even if it isn’t her.
within a few months, his garden is looking lively and vibrant and noticeably healthy. after a few more months, he’s able to do everything you’ve taught him on his own, but you still come visit a few times a week to see how it’s going.
each and every time, abby finds some excuse to talk to you. you aren’t blind to it, but you certainly aren’t opposed to it. she’ll compliment your hair, your outfit, thank you for helping her dad with something so important to him, and anything else she can say to get you to stick around longer.
it isn’t much longer until jerry invites you to a barbecue in his backyard. an hour into it, he’s standing with a few of his friends around the grill, some neighborhood kids are playing with water guns in the yard, and you can’t help but notice his daughter’s absence.
you excuse yourself to the restroom in the middle of a gossip session with a few older ladies from around the block. however, the first thing you do when you step inside is beeline up the stairs and toward abby’s room.
of course, you knock first, and hear a muffled “come in” from the other side of the door. you enter, and see abby sitting on her bed with her laptop open, clearly drowning in her college work. her messy blonde hair is in a low bun, and her body is engulfed by a sweatshirt that is at least two sizes too big for her. she glances up, notices it’s you, and immediately straightens her slouched posture. “oh. y/n, uh… hey. you look nice. like, really nice.”
“nice enough to make you come join the party?”
“not that nice. i’m dying over here.” she vaguely gestures to her laptop.
“you’re pretty for a dead girl.” you hum, walking over to sit next to her and take a look at the laptop. there’s a concoction of mathematical problems plastered on the screen from top to bottom. your eyes hurt just looking at it. “oh, abby, you poor thing. all i can do is pray for you.”
“why do i need to know what a logarithm function is? and since when is there limits to infinity? i thought the whole point of infinity is that it’s limitless.”
you decide to cut her off before she can get any more worked up than she already is. “what’s your major?”
“pathology. which, mind you, has nothing to do with logarithm functions.”
you huff out a laugh. “pathology… what’s that? something medical, right?”
“yeah, pretty much just the study of diseases.”
“that’s hot.“
abby stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. clearly, you have her full attention now. “why do you always do shit like that?”
“like what?”
“like, you know… ‘that’s hot,’ shit like that.” she says, trying her luck at a very bad impression of you. “calling me pretty. staring at me.”
“because i think you’re pretty, and i like staring at you.” you answer simply. “why? want me to stop?”
“i didn’t say that.”
you smile, eyes studying her flustered face, the pout on her parted lips and the reddening blush across her cheeks.
just as she thinks you’re finally going to make a move, you stand up from your spot on her bed and begin heading toward the door. “well, it’s always nice talking to you, abby, but i gotta get back to the party before linda thinks i abandoned her.”
“what– who’s linda?” she tilts her head.
“the lady from down the street. you know, the one with the blue eyeshadow and smoker’s cough.”
abby scoffs at the description. “oh, right. linda. do you really have to go?”
you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. “i don’t know. what would happen if i stayed?”
this questions seems to leave abby at a loss for words. is there even a right answer? she could be reading too far into this, and end up looking like a creep if she spoke her mind– but then again, she could be missing out on a golden opportunity if she doesn’t. she’s wanted you for as long as she’s known you, that’s completely true, but saying it out loud is something different.
after a long few moments of silence, you stand upright once more and reach for her doorknob. “thought so.”
with that, you shut her door and join the party downstairs once more, leaving abby alone with a million thoughts and feelings. she can’t focus on her work. she can’t focus on anything other than the way you smelled, sitting so close to her. how soft your skin looked, how she gets goosebumps just thinking about your voice.
once the party has died down and she’s done helping her dad clean up, she rushes back up to her room (and puts away all of the schoolwork she never got to), so that she can send you a simple message from her phone.
can you come over?
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Pen-pals
Warnings: only the hapter to start things going and to set the vibe, part one of at least 10, i have not proof read ୨୧
Chapter 1 – Greetings.
He was forced into it, no way in hell would he ever do it on his own. But his also forced councillor thought it would help him to have connections to the outside world and ensured him that if it didn’t work out within two months, he could stop trying and never do it again. But he couldn’t tell her that or it would be ‘cheating.’
Which would probably deter people but as a chronic people-pleaser, I just couldn’t let that run. So, I tried my absolute hardest to fill my letters with copious amounts of joy so that there’s no way he couldn’t write back.
January 13th
--
Dear ‘Ghost’,
I was only told your call-sign to ensure maximum confidentiality – rules right. They told me that you were the only one who could tell me your real name so if you ever feel comfortable enough, I will happily learn all about you!
Here is some information about me; my name is Y/N, I am always helping people out for work (quite interesting if I do say so myself), I love to bake in my free time and my favourite time of the year is autumn (I just LOVE the mix of weather).
I always add some questions to these letters.
Why is your call-sign Ghost?
What’s your favourite thing to do when you aren’t deployed?
And finally, a simple one – what’s your favourite colour?
From,
Y/N.
P.S I was told you would probably take around a week – two to respond so don’t feel rushed to write back, I know how taxing your job tends to be :)
January 29th
--
Dear Ghost,
I hope you are doing well, I’m not sure if you received the letter I sent as you haven’t replied so I’m trying again just to make sure. My name is Y/N and I have a black Labrador that I love so much.
I have a hectic work schedule and I am always flying all over the world to help people. So I won’t always be able to write to you consistently. I hope that’s okay!
Instead of questions, I thought I would tell a little joke;
What do you call a shipment full of military-issued T-Rexes? SMALL ARMS.
:) hope you enjoyed that one because there are way more to come.
From
Y/N.
February 13th
--
Dear ‘Ghost’,
This will be the last letter I am writing to you as I believe someone could get through to you, it just won’t be me. So, I have requested to be swapped buddies.
I think it might be someone who’s in your unit, I think his name is John or Johnny – something like that. And I’m told I will be a better suit to them and their personalities.
So I hope you stay safe and are able to speak with someone who you can let your guard down too; even though they will never be as funny as me. Teehee :)
From
Y/N.
I’m quite sad that it didn’t work out as I thought we could have both benefited from it, but you know what they say – it is what it is. And at the end of the day, he needs someone he can truly feel comfortable talking to and I never did get to know him so it doesn’t affect me much in those terms. Even if a month was wasted by waiting for a never-to-arrive letter. Well the true term would be never-to-be-write-or-sent but we digress.
The birds hum a beautiful harmony as I post the final letter through the poorly painted post-box on the end of my road. As I turn to leave, the clouds above me start weeping uncontrollably at my departure.
I’ve never been one for signs but that can’t have been a coincidence.
My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.
They first two chapters will be mostly letters and then will move to texts and irl interactions - at least I plan...
#141 x reader#task force 141#simon riley x you#cod 141#simon ghost riley#mw2 141#ghost cod#simon riley fluff#ghost x reader#ghost#simon#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#angst with a happy ending#light angst#angst#pen pals#military#bridgerton#lewis hamilton#charles leclerc
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We're playing as Kanaya, right after Terezi watched Dave die. I guess we're about to see the immediate aftermath, as Karkat tries to figure out what he did wrong.
KANAYA: That Sounds Nice
KANAYA: But It Really Doesnt Look Like There Is Much Room In That Pile Of Horns At All And I Should Get Going Anyway
SOLLUX: yeah, of cour2e there'2 no room, iit wa2 kiind of a moroniic iinviitatiion two be hone2t.
FEFERI: )(-EY, S)(UT YOUR MOP-EY BLOW )(OL-E!!! I was just s)(owing a little bassic courtesea.
FEFERI: Really, you are just t)(e grouc)(iest dude sometimes.
FEFERI: (And it's really cute!)
I was initially surprised that Feferi found Sollux’s grouchiness cute, since she's had to deal with Eridan's bad-tempered bullshit for who knows how long. However, I think Sollux's 'temper' is fundamentally different to Eridan's, in a way that Feferi would appreciate.
See, Sollux may be a little grumpy, but he's also basically harmless. His only violent moments are the result of manipul8tion or self-defense, and when left to his own devices, he'd rather tinker with his computers than hurt anyone.
Compare and contrast with Feferi's former moirail. He's already complicit in mass-murder, and his jealousy over Sollux 'stealing his girl' has already led him to try and vaporize the guy.
Eridan's a danger to himself and others, and his bad moods are threatening, but Sollux is just a slightly sullen nerd. Feferi can relax around him, and that alone is probably a breath of fresh air.
SOLLUX: you are 2o riidiiculou2ly optiimii2tiic iit'2 kiind of 2iickeniing, why do you even put up wiith me?
Just like our other Witch, Feferi is optimistic to the point of frustration – and, like the Jade of earlier acts, her optimism is based on evidence that that her audience isn’t privy to.
Unlike early Jade, though, my guesses about Feferi's sources can be a lot more educated. Her information generally comes from the Horrorterrors, so if she knows Aradia's alive, her God Tier self has probably made it to the Furthest Ring.
That's honestly pretty cute. We haven't seem much of these two as a couple, but they're starting to win me over.
Oh, you can fuck off, mate. Your guardianship of Kanaya ended on Alternia.
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— Fly away
nonidol!scoups x gn!reader | fluff + friends to lovers (lmao) | 0.8k | dent jusay - matt martians “He dont keep you satisfied but I’ll be here when you decide”
a/n. i think i'm manifesting with all the friends to lovers i'm writing, I swear I can write other tropes I'm just a little hyperfixated on the idea
“I know you” His voice echoed from the kitchen, the buzzing of the microwave filling the silent apartment. It was your average Saturday but Cheol was here, so it wasn’t so average, you got to see him about 3 times a year so it was actually a pretty rare Saturday.
You giggled in anticipation as he walked into the room bowl of popcorn in his hands, the look he gave you made you calm down immediately, he wasn’t done scolding you. He had been on it since he saw the text flash on your phone earlier in the afternoon, “You hate guys like that, you’ve said it every time you’ve complained about guys” you nod your head understandingly, he wasn’t wrong.
“I’m trying new things Cheol…” his brows furrow at you, the confusion is oozing on you at this point. You didn’t really have an explanation for your dear friend who knew you ultimately better than you knew yourself, things just lined up in this way and it wasn’t as bad as you had assumed it would be, “he’s really nice.”
Now he was laughing, that was fair, you didn’t really have anything else to justify yourself with, you give him a soft punch on the shoulder almost immediately regretting it forgetting how big he was under the oversized hoodie he covered himself in, a sharp pain ringing throughout your hand from the impact. He just shook his head as he watched you before turning back to you with a more serious expression, you already knew where it was going and you didn’t want it, standing up immediately from the couch walking to the other side of the room, “No Cheol”
He covered his mouth for a second, trying to hide his obvious amusement, his squinted eyes said it all, “This is on you, you know exactly how this is going to go.” You slammed your hands on your ears walking further away from his noise, once he stood up you knew it was going to get serious.
“Seungcheol please” you squeal as he took a couple steps towards you in your corner, he looked at you in disbelief “I can’t believe you’re doing all this” you shook your head in denial, pursing your bottom lips at him silently begging him to let you live in your delusion.
Now you were cornered, nowhere to run, no space for your eyes to wander, you looked up at him reluctantly, as much as you loved his advice, you were starting to feel out of luck. You knew he was just looking out for you but sticking to your dreams was exhausting because as much as you tried to hold on to your values, to stay in line with all the hopes you had of a future love, you kept getting slammed in the face. It almost felt like what you were looking for didn’t exist in this reality , that only the extremely lucky ones got a chance to taste that fairytale.
The look in his eyes was gentle, he couldn’t read your mind but whatever you had was close enough, he never intended to scold you or tell you your decision was wrong, he just hated seeing you undermine your aspirations. He knew your dreams, he knew how far you wanted to reach so he just couldn’t let you tie yourself to the ground when you were meant to be so up high.
“Listen—” simultaneously the words clashed bringing you both back to your familiar warmth, he nods his head at you kindly giving you the first word.
“I know you’re worried because I get all fantasy and wishful about love, but you know that’s all it is, a fantasy. If I get too unrealistic, I’ll just end up being alone.”
You can see the frown forming on his face as he listens to your words taking them into account, his lips part open for a second before immediately shutting close letting him take a deep breath to formulate his thoughts right.
“I want you to dream y/n, you’ve said you want to fly, I want you to fly.”
Had you been waiting to hear those words? Why did hearing them come with a wave of relief? Or was it just the fact that they came from a voice that you paired with that feeling?
You didn’t know how badly you wanted to hold on to that fantasy till you heard someone ask you to, someone wanted you to dream amidst all the chaos.
“Is he letting you fly?” a playful smirk dances on his lips, his head tilted to the side as he wonders. With a tight pout you shake your head looking down at his hands following them as they cup your cheeks forcing you to look back up at him,
“I’d let you fly, you can let go with me” you couldn’t help the way your eyes bounced between his, trying to catch a hint of a joke, a speck of comedy and yet. The thunder in your chest only getting more imposing as you realized how badly you wanted this, how this was always at the back of your mind whenever you were together, how you’ve always wanted him.
“I know you.”
ty for reading feedback is much appreciated
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#svt#svt fanfic#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt x reader#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol fluff#svt seungcheol#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups
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does it have to be angst? i was gonna ask for married levi/reader with kids post war but 🥺🙏🏻 for angst maybe it could be about his injuries, with reader giving comfort?
Providing Comfort {Levi Ackerman}
A/n: thank you for requesting. Generally you can request whatever you want but I don't think I would actually write the request with him having kids. Anyways. I hope you like the comfort one.
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader
Trigger warnings: mentions of injuries, self doubt, low confidence, mentions of not liking oneself, mentions of painkillers
You knew the first months after the war were going to be the most difficult ones. It wasn't just because of the fact that everyone would have to get used to the new world but also because of the trauma everything had left behind.
"Just give me another... one of those little damn things." Levi groaned and despite your attempts to help him lie back down on the bed, he sat back up.
"Aspirins?" You let out a sigh and sat next to him.
The most difficult part in reality was trying to help the most stubborn man you knew with getting accustomed to his new daily life. For better or for worse, Levi refused to follow or at least understand the orders the doctor had given him. On one hand, it was understandable; he was used to constantly moving, training, going on expeditions and fighting, there was no way he could accept laying in bed all day in order to heal his injuries. On the other... it saddened you. He was colder than he had ever been, barely talking to anyone and when he did, his words cut deeper than any knife.
"Whatever that is. Just give it to me."
He had started making progress though, you had to admit at least that. In the beginning he wouldn't even tell you when or where he was in pain. It was like a guess game, you would squeeze his knee and pray the pain was too much for him to try and hold back any groans or expressions.
Most of the times it worked.
Then he figured out that he could take aspirins whenever he was in pain and ever since then he refused to let them go. But the doctor's visit yesterday had left him with zero options than to stop taking them.
"The doctor said no, Levi."
"Couldn't care less."
And you couldn't do much about it either. Even batting heads with him felt strange since having been under his command for so long usually meant him giving the orders and not vice versa.
"Maybe doing the exercises the doctor told you would help with the pain... just saying." A small awkward pause followed, small enough to feel as if centuries had passed until Levi shook his head. It didn't need a lot of thinking to figure out why he refused.
The following days after the war ended, Levi and who knows how many others were in the hospital. Unlike some people and like others, Levi didn't get out of there unscathed. The only injury he had partly accepted was his missing fingers which was both because it occured before the war started and also because he proved to himself that he can still do everything just perfect without having all five fingers.
Neither you nor him understood how you came to live with each other but unbeknownst to you, it was more of a comfort than a nuissance to him. However, he still had his... issues. The last thing he wanted was an old member of his team to see him at his worst. Not even Erwin had achieved something like that.
"I can help. I promise it will only help with the pain."
As much as he hated it, it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.
"All you had to do was ask."
Helping him with his exercises didn't take more than half an hour. Levi was a perfectionist and you knew it. He wasn't doing it to get the pain to go away but to prove to himself that he was in charge of his body. All of his life consisted of constantly proving something to himself.
"Are you planning on nagging me about it?" He reached out for the hot cup of tea you had prepared for him with a sigh.
"Maybe." You replied with a smile.
He had made much more of a progress than you had imagined. Not once had you imagined you'd see him finally relax his shoulders and lean back on the couch comfortably, holding his cup of tea in his peculiar way.
"Go on then."
It would take much more time to completely open up to you, let you provide him with proper comfort but for now and for the past few weeks, he was fine with you talking his ear out. It kept him mind off the pain and in one way or another it felt more comforting than the warm cup of tea he was holding.
#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman#levi x you#aot levi#snk levi#levi aot#captain levi#levi attack on titan x reader#attack on titan levi ackerman x reader#attack on titan levi x reader#aot levi x reader#aot levi ackerman x reader#aot levi ackerman#levi comfort#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#snk x reader#captain levi x reader#captain levi ackerman#captain levi ackerman x reader#writing#anime and manga#anime#manga
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no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her
summary:
arthur morgan knew he was the type of man that shouldn’t risk falling in love, but jesus she just made it so hard NOT to
a/n: first fic!! inspired by work song by hozier lol. hope y’all enjoy it Xx 💗
‘Arthur Morgan, you fool’ He thought to himself, mentally swearing for catching himself staring at their camps newest member yet again. But he just couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in this. It was stupid really, any attempt at love in the past had failed him. All because of this life he chose to live. One that wasn’t easy to leave behind. Though Arthur knew, if you asked him to he’d throw it all away. God this man would do anything for you, he practically worshiped the ground you walked on. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by you, maybe it was your honey sweet voice, or the kindness you showed him right from your first day of knowing him. He couldn’t stop himself from loving every little thing about you, to him you were perfect. A goddamned goddess. He thought you deserved someone better than him. A woman such as yourself deserved to live a good life, one where the law isn’t out to get you. One where people could be out to hurt you because of your husband’s line of work. You deserved to feel safe and secure in your life. Nothing like the chaos you were living through now.
Little did Arthur know, you were feeling the exact same way about him. You had deep feelings for Arthur Morgan, you were as sweet like sugar on that man. You loved everything about him, but most of all how he treated you. He made 100% sure you felt safe and were taken care of all the time. You were one of the first people he’d check up on when returning from a job. Or you mentioned something you needed and the next day he would just so happen to need to run to town and what do you know, the exact scarf, seasoning, hair ribbon, you name it would be included in his haul. And if he was around at meal times, he would not so subtly make sure you got your portion. All of this and yet, he rarely said a word to you. It confused you to no end, it felt like he cared about you deeply but he rarely paid any attention to you. You were a lost soul before you started riding with the Van Der Lindes, and because of the Blackwater situation it was hard for the gang to let in a new mouth to feed. But ever since the beginning Arthur made you feel so welcomed. You don’t know what you did do deserve his kindness but it was deeply appreciated. Mary-Beth was CONVINCED Arthur was sweet on you, so we’re Tilly, Molly, Abigail, Karen, goodness even Susan Grimahaw herself made a comment about it you once. You wanted to believe it so badly, but he didn’t talk to you!! He could just be a kind man of little words and you’re reading into the situation all wrong.
‘Oh well…’ You thought with a sigh, flicking your eyes up from the needle work you had long been neglecting because of your thinking. To your surprise, you found a pair of beautiful blue eyes already looking in your direction…
~~~~~~~
“Shit!” Arthur swore under his breath, god dammit you were still as a staute for ages before this why’d you have to look up now?? Arthur begrudgingly tore my eyes away from t and started walking to his horse- where he was supposed to be already. Hosea wanted to take him into town for some reason he had yet to say.
“Arthur!” Hosea said warmly. He then raised an eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here?”
‘Oh I this is NOT goin’ there.’ Arthur thought.
“Course not.” He said flatly. Hosea smiled a knowing smile, before long they mounted thier horses and were off.
The ride to Valentine was thankfully silent and quick. But Arthur knew that was going to change as soon as Hosea informed him that he was taking Arthur to the saloon to “Chat over a drink” With such a grin on his face that Arthur knew he was nothing short of doomed.
After getting situated at the bar with a neat whiskey and a beer, Hosea start talking to Arthur, though it felt more like he was speaking AT at him. Making little remarks about love and what it does for people. Sharing little stories of “the joys of marriage.” …..very sneaky, Hosea.
“Hosea…. Please get to whatever point it is yer tryin’ to make here.” Arthur said, cutting into his rambling.
“Arthur….” He cooed, sounding like he was talking to some schoolyard boy. “I’ve been watching you pine over (Name) for MONTHS.”
Arthur said nothing. Nothing but a silent prayer that his cheeks weren’t burning a fiery shade of red.
“I know you’re sweet on her, it’s as obvious as a wolf standing in a pack of sheep!”
Arthur ran a hand over my face and let out a tired sigh. Hosea sipped his beer, waiting for him to respond.
“What ‘m I supposed’t say?” Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms over my chest. ‘God, what a pathetic fool I am.’ Arthur thought. “Not like she’d want an ugly bastard like me ‘nyway.”
“On the contrary! Hosea chuckles. “I was walking by the women’s tent last nigh- couldn’t sleep. Wanted to walk a bit to clear my head- and my boy you should’ve heard the things (Name) was saying about you!”
At that, Arthur sat up a little straighter. “What things…?” He asked, slightly wearily. Hosea smiled.
“Son, she’s fallen for you head first! If only you’d start speaking more then 2 words a week to her! You do so much for that girl Arthur, would it be so hard to do that too?”
He didn’t say anything. Learning that, by some fucking MIRACLE- the woman of his dreams has fallen for him was making his head spin. Could this really be happening?? Could this work?? A stab of pain shot through him as he remembered Mary, and how things ended with her. But this could be different, after all you were with the gang. You didn’t care about his life, you loved him despite it all…Arthur hadn’t dared let himself think that a love with you could possibly work out. The thought made him giddy. He felt dumb as rocks, feeling so strongly for you without ever saying a damn word to you. But he couldn’t let himself get to know you- he couldn’t bare to hear your silky voice say his name more then you already do. With such kindness, such love.He wanted to talk to you, to love you, to cherish you and worship you like you deserved to be, but-
“Hosea, I’m afraid.” Arthur said quietly. “Look at ‘er, I can’t drag this woman down the path I’m on. She doesn’t deserve a man like me.”
Hosea pushed Arthur’s untouched whiskey towards him, Arthur took the glass and downed it all in one go. He listened to Hosea’a next words at the fiery liquid settled in his stomach.
“Are you going to risk making that decision for her?”
~~~~~~~
You sat on the cold ground in front of the dying out campfire, grateful that everyone had fallen into their cots for the night. You loved the solitude of nighttime. It was so nice to be by yourself, enjoying the quiet peace of the stars above you.
Before long, your thoughts (as they always did) turned to Arthur Morgan. Hosea has returned to camp hours ago, telling you that Arthur should be back shortly. It’s been hours and still no sign of him. You knew it was normal, but you couldn’t help but worry while he was out of camp. Which was stupid really, you weren’t his girl. Just because he was kind didn’t mean you had to get your knickers all on a twist over him.
‘Damn your mysterious-ness Arthur Morgan….’
You only know you dozed off when the familiar sound of a horse whining woke you up. And then an even more familiar voice soothing the distressed animal.
“Easy girl…. Y’know I can’t spend all my time with ya’ don’t you?”
You stretched your arms out and listened to the sweet interaction. Despite him being the gang’s toughest enforcer, a wanted dead or alive outlaw, Arthur truly was a sweetheart. He treated all the women of the camp with the utmost respect and was such a help to any soul in need of. If only he knew how badly you needed him.
You from your spot on the ground, drawing the outlaws attention. He approached with a small smile.
“Glad it was jus’ you..” Arthur said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. You on the other hand were absolutely over the MOON at the fact that Arthur had finally decided to talk to you.
“Oh I hope you’re not too disappointed Mr. Morgan!” You said with a light chuckle. Arthur, not sensing your sarcasm through his nerves, panicked.
“N-no! Not at all, ma’am! I apologize if I came off that way-”
“I’m just teasing ya’ Arthur. It’s quite alright.” You said and smiled. A smile so sweet and bright Arthur could’ve melted on the spot. Your sweet smile, the way his name rolled off your lips. Arthur wasn’t a religious man, but he might as well have been in heaven.
“(Name)….” Arthur said, his sweet southern drawl when he said your name making you blush. “I’d like to apologize. For how I’ve been treatin’ you.”
“Oh Arthur! You’ve been nothin’ but kind to me since I’ve been here- whatever are you sorry for?” You asked him, genuinely shocked at the man’s statement. Were you talking to the same Arthur who took care of your horse for you, bought you ribbons to put in your hair, and watched over you like a protective hawk? Sure he didn’t speak to you much, but you knew he was a man of few words. Even if it hurt sometimes, could live with it. You didn’t need him to love you back for you to love him all the same. You’d almost accepted it. Almost.
Arthur sighed a deep and nervous sigh, his thoughts blurring and the several whiskeys he had in him were NOT helping. Not a bit.
“You see- well it’s, it’s just-” Arthur stammered- god he was making a complete FOOL of himself!
You stepped closer to Arthur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. You looked up at him nervously. The two of you had never been close as this. Arthur looked down at you, you had concern laced in your eyes. Concern for him. Your long hair was falling out of its messy braid, the loose strands framing your face beautifully. He could see the nights starts reflected in your eyes.
‘How beautiful..’ Arthur thought. He was completely captivated by you. ‘How could a woman like this be allowed to roam the same earth as someone like me..?’
Without even realizing what he was doing, Arthur pulled you flush against his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other reaching up to cup your chin. His touch was feather light as he stroked his thumb over your face.
“I ain’t never felt like this before Miss…” Arthur mumbled, leaning his forehead down to touch your. He didn’t have time to wonder (or thank) whatever divine force gave him to courage to do this. “You got me makin’ a fool outta myself…”
You let out a soft gasp at the a sudden touch from Arthur. You had only ever been like this in your sweetest dreams, was this really happening??
“Arthur…?” You whispered, questioning him. “Wha…What ‘re you d-”
That’s it. He couldn’t take it anymore. To hell with the risks, the past to hell with it all! He had come to love you more than life itself. You were exactly what he needed in his painful and cruel life.
You were such a loving soul, treating everyone and everything around you so kindly it was heartwarming. You give and give and GIVE to everyone around you. You never judged anyone around you for their actions- past or present. You picked up chores from the other women when they needed a break. You sung little Jack to sleep when Abigail was too exhausted to lift her head from her cot. You put braided flowers into your beautiful long hair whenever you had a moment to yourself. You smiled at him every morning when you left your tent to begin your day. You always kept the pink silk scarf he picked up for you and left in your tent with a note in the pocket of your skirt. You picked at nails and hummed when you were nervous. You loved staying up late, gazing at the stars and admiring the universe. He had pages upon pages of you doing exactly that sketched in his journal.
You were heaven sent. You were perfect. The world didn’t fucking deserve you.
Arthur slammed his lips down onto yours without wasting another moment. And he shuddered at the feelings of your lips finally being against his own. You kissed him back just has hard, standing on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. You felt his tongue slide against his bottom lip, and wasted not a moment opening your mouth to let him in.
Months of longing, tension, were fought out as your tongues pushed against each other. Of course Arthur won, you could barely contain the moan that was building in the back of your throat when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth like a starving man. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you would’ve fallen over. The sheer want and desperation of the kiss made your knees go completely weak.
Unfortunately, you both needed air and had to pull away. Arthur rested his forehead against your own. The both of you stood there, panting with closed eyes. Neither wanting the moment to end.
When you eventually opened your eyes, you looked up at Arthur. And couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Arthur wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist, and he smiled sweetly back at you. You both stood there for a moment, swaying gently back and forth as you embraced each other. The silence that fell between you both was comfortable and welcome as you gazed into each others eyes, both sharing the same look of love and adoration.
Arthur was the one who finally broke the silence between the two of you, and you will never forget his next words.
“Please darlin’” He whispered. “I’m beggin’ you… I want you to be my girl. I’m sorry I was a fool for such a long time-”
You leaned up on your tip toes and silenced him with a gentle kiss.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Mr. Morgan.”
#arthur morgan fic#arthur morgan#arthur morgan fanfiction#i love you arthur morgan#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x reader#work song#inspired by a hozier song#arthur morgan fluff#tension#love confessions#rdr2#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption 2#red dead#rdr#arthur is foolishly in love#x reader
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—just a silly little something before i drop the big angst 🥰
rated: t | words: 8k | read on ao3
summary:
“What happened?” Chris asked, looking up from his dinosaurs.
“You know how I’m working to become a firefighter?” Chris smiled widely. “Well as it turns out, we live right across from a fire station. I think the siren is what startled us.”
Christopher’s lit up almost as brightly as the sirens above a firetruck.
“Cool! Can I see?”
“Sure thing buddy, but first, dinner and bed.”
Chris grumbled a little for it, but the promise of pizza had him forgetting about the fire station in no time.
Eddie was sure it’d be the same for him. Once they got used to the loud sirens, the station would just blend into the background. It wasn’t like Eddie was ever going to meet anyone there or and end up close with them or anything like that.
—or—
Eddie gets a new apartment, one that has a window looking right out to a fire station. He definitely doesn’t take note of a particular firefighter with blue eyes and long ass legs.
tagging squad below, just lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3
tags: tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @queerbuckleys @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @bibuckbuckley @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jackluvsdaniel @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @transbuck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwaterninja13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @saybiwithme @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @bibuckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @kinardbuckley @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire
#buddie#buddie fic#eddie diaz#evan 'buck' buckley#christopher diaz#911 abc#buck x eddie#getting together#different first meeting#fluff#domestic fluff#first kiss#flirting#idiots in love#hurt/comfort
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school bus love (4)
synopsis: a series of successes, but it can’t always be sunshine and rainbows, can it?
pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader.
warnings: none.
a/n: i’m done with my exams and i’m freeee! to celebrate, i’ve dropped more lily lore hehe. apologies if this isn’t the best, i’m so so tired, but i really wanted to post today! enjoy my darlings xo
drabble series // part 3 // part 5
toji fushiguro was an exceptionally hard nut to crack.
throughout the past two months, they had sent each other daily streaks. as per usual, she sent her usual quirky streaks to try and pique his interest. to her credit, it worked quite a number of times, as they’d had quite a few conversations over snapchat. they hadn’t been flirting, but it was still progress, and she was absolutely ecstatic every time she managed to crack toji’s enigmatic shell and draw him in.
however, they never spoke in person on the bus.
“you’re both bizarre,” her bus buddy had commented in private, rolling her eyes. “how can you snap each other every day and then not even speak actual words?”
she bit her lip nervously, swinging her heavy backpack higher onto her shoulder. “i don’t know! i’m too shy, maybe he is too?”
her bus buddy sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, clawing for her revision notes from somewhere inside her tote bag. exam season was in full swing, and having any sort of distraction was far from ideal. she was studying hard, but with thoughts of toji rippling in the back of her mind like a tantalizing fruit swinging high up on a tree, just out of reach.
she noticed that he often deflected the conversation back to her whenever she asked him slightly more personal questions. toji seemed to more interested in hearing about her old life back home, about the way of life and culture. while it was nice that he took an interest, his deflections and apparent unwillingness to reveal much about himself made her seriously doubt if toji had any sort of feelings for her.
chasing after him was maddening, and still so very addictive.
however, she had to decide when it was time to go cold turkey and cut her losses, but that time wasn’t just yet.
a movie was playing in the background as she peacefully lounged in the living room after a particularly long day at school. the rain hammered down outside, creating a pleasant hum of droplets hitting the roof, and she snuggled up further into the couch with her steaming mug of tea.
“so, how’s the handsome boy doing?” her mom suddenly perked up, sipping a glass of fizzy water. “the one at the bus stop.”
“oh, toji? we’re still talking.”
“you’re still just talking? he hasn’t asked you on a date yet?”
“mom, don’t. it’s exam time, i’m not thinking about that right now, and i bet he isn’t either.”
“alright, alright! i’m just saying, maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for him.”
she contemplated that with a finger placed thoughtfully on her lip. she’d always wanted to be asked on her first date, not the other way around, and it was a sentiment she wanted to hold on to for as long as possible. moreover, she wasn’t even totally sure that toji liked her back.
the plan had to shift; she had to step it up just a notch.
that night, after sending a picture of her midnight snack of avocado on toast and successfully attracting toji’s attention, she laid out the bare bones of a subtle plan. a plan that involved an indirect suggestion that should hopefully end with him asking her to see the latest avengers movie with him.
haha, so true. have you seen endgame yet?
toji fushiguro: nah not yet, wbu?
nah, not yet. i rlly want to tho 🙃
toji fushiguro: ah yeha, me and my friends are going on tuesday
well… fuck.
oh nice!! haha no spoilers though
toji fushiguro: hmm oh well now you mention it
toji fushiguro: nah, dw i wont i’m not that much of a dick haha
yeah lol, well hopefully i can see it before i go back home
that was a good nudge, right? it wasn’t too subtle. if he liked her, then surely he would take the initiative now.
toji fushiguro: oh when r you goin back?
a week after my last exam, can’t wait lol
toji fushiguro: i bet, it’ll be so much better than here
ah it’s not so bad here haha, wbu? what’s your plans for the summer?
toji fushiguro: so how hot does it get over there in summer?
she felt deflated, like a giant hot air balloon loosing all its shape and spluttering into a mess as it hurtled to the ground. why was toji so reluctant to answer such simple questions? it wasn’t like she was asking him to reveal the deepest, dirtiest secrets about himself. her heart was only half in the conversation after that, and she indulged his questions for a while before it fizzled out, like a sizzling party sparklers doused in an ice-cold splash of reality.
would this crush soon fizzle out in the same way too?
general taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight
school bus love taglist: @badbyeyoongi
side note: i told my boyfriend i was writing this little drabble series about us, and his exact response was, “ew, why?” he doesn’t like to admit that we were cute. he’s a big grump, but i love him very much lol.
©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.
#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#toji x y/n#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#toji drabbles#jjk x you#jjk fluff
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I saw your hc post with Nathan with a feminine s/o and the part where he liked listening to her talk and that got me thinking about this. He would love it if his s/o played piano. Like, he puts a piano in places like the living room and his office just so when he's there he can listen to them play. Sh maybe you could make a small hc post based on that idea
Ahh, I love this! Sorry it took me so long to post!
Nathan Bateman GN!Reader • Rating: T•Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •
Warnings: Soft!Nathan , swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 455
Oh my gosh, literally pianos everywhere. You have to tell him to calm the fuck down.
“Do you want a new piano?” “No, you bought me five already.” “Do you need one in a different colour?” “No.” “What about another grand piano for the-” “Nathan.”
Doesn’t pester you to play for him, but is very happy whenever you play. Even if you’re trying out a new piece and feel like you're constantly messing up, he’s just 100% heart eyes at all times.
Will, however, act like he isn’t if you call him on it.
If you’re playing and it isn’t within his earshot you’re gonna get a series of, ‘why aren’t you playing near me so I can listen?’ type messages.
You end up just practising near him so he doesn’t complain.
You call him a baby (affectionate) about it.
He says he isn’t and sulks for 3 hours.
When you find him you show him a little song you’ve written for him.
He gets a little over emotional that you made something for him. And tries to hide it. (He does a bad job.)
Asks you to teach him how to play.
He understands the theory really well, but gets annoyed when he can’t play perfectly after 30 seconds.
“You’re really good Nathan!”
“I’m shit.”
“You can’t expect to play it perfectly the first time.”
“Why?”
You roll your eyes. “Because you have to learn the muscle memory, you couldn’t box amazingly the first time you tried could you?”
“I could.”
“Fuck off.”
You give him little lessons every day, which he adores. He progresses well, he’s obviously trying really hard, but after a couple of weeks, you realise he’s doing it more to spend time with you and to share in something you enjoy than to become a master at it. (Which surprises you.)
He likes calling you ‘bossy’ when you tell him to practise or play something. This morphs a little and sticks into a nickname, ‘boss’.
Whenever he’s on a conference call and someone asks him to do something he doesn’t want to, instead of saying a flat ‘no.’ he just starts shrugging and saying ‘you better ask the boss.’
He does not explain this to anyone, causing a lot of confusion (which he loves).
No one has any idea that you’re ‘the boss’ until a rare in-person event when Nathan isn’t being his hermit self and he refers to you by the nickname in front of a couple of staff.
What you expect to be the end of the joke turns into people asking and emailing you for permission and sign offs. (And to get Nathan to do things.)
Nathan finds this all hilarious and will not correct the situation.
Thank you for reading!
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