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joelscruff · 3 months

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imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

#joel miller x reader #*#1500 kisses challenge

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diah-the-demon · 2 years

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for some reason my forearm is sore..

#i havent done anything that should've hurt it before #it feels like a bruise but theres not discolouration..#maybe i just slept on it wrong but ive been up for 4 hours i feel like id prob notice this before now if thats what it was

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killbaned · 2 years

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me trying to get ready for work, waiting to see if my guts are gonna do anything or not

#goblin shenanigans.txt #i was hungry enough last night i polished off my rice after my salad #but then i slept like dog shit bc my abdomen was bloaty again so i'm like #maybe i sohuld've gone to bed hungry ;;;;;#should've* even

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caufee-studies · 2 years

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The sun is finally coming up

Is it really the sun tho, it looks like a red hot ball of fire, wait-

#maybe I should've slept #anyways it really just looks red #and not-sun-like #anyways i am just saying shit #i think the cold is freezing my brain to mouth filter rn #desi shit posting #desiblr #I'll look directly in the sun but never in the mirror #okay I'll shtup now #caufeespills #mine

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hotyanderedaddies · 9 months

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Spending the Night with Your Yandere Vampire Boyfriend

[Yandere! Vampire x Human! GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You've been with your new boyfriend for a few weeks by now, and things were developing really quickly. Much faster than any of your previous relationships.

Your new boyfriend, whom you playfully call Daddy, recently revealed to you that he's a vampire which was a total shock to you.

Well, maybe you should've caught on when he'd only come around at night when the sun was down, you never saw him eat any food, he seemed to avoid garlic at all costs, and he was super pale... and he had vampire fangs.

A total surprise.

Either way, you weren't too scared when Daddy revealed his "secret" to you.

Daddy is perfect boyfriend, honestly.

Daddy knows all of your likes and dislikes, and even loves all of your hobbies. The two of you share the same interests in books, movies, video games-- everything!

And you better since he spent such a long time following you around, studying your every move. Watching. Waiting.

Daddy is a pure gentleman, always treating you with the upmost respect. He virtually worships the ground you walk on, treating you like you're his precious treasure.

Because you are his. All his. And only his.

Daddy really seemed to walk straight out of a daydream, rescuing you from such a dreary life of working retail and attending boring college classes. He really helped to lift you up, especially after so many of your personal relationships seemed to have tapered off once you'd started college.

He only got rid of those who would try to take you away from him. Honest. He did it all for your relationship.

So when the two of you were on one of your dates at Daddy's house, he suggested that you stay the night (well, the morning). He had some sleep aid that he could give you to help you fall asleep during the day; although, dating a vampire was kind of throwing your sleep schedule out of whack.

At first, you were a little nervous since the two of you hadn't done anything past making out, but with one look at the eager face Daddy had, you melted.

"Sure, Daddy," you smiled.

Daddy's smile stretched out his handsome face, and his vampire fangs even poked out.

He grabbed you by the hand, his cool fingers interlocking with yours, as he led you up the stairs to the bedroom. You've never been up to his bedroom since the two of you almost never made it past the couch, so you were a little excited--

The bedroom door swung open and in the middle of the room was the "bed".

"A c-coffin?" you stuttered, your stomach falling to the floor.

"Of course, Darling," Daddy chuckled, dragging you closer to the coffin. "I'm a vampire after all. What did you think I slept in?"

"A bed...?"

"But then how would I keep the sunlight off me?"

...oh.

The coffin seemed to be standard-sized (you've been to one or two funerals, so they weren't completely unfamiliar to you), and it was lined with a clean, white satin that looked incredibly soft to the touch.

But it was a coffin!

And your frantic human brain couldn't help but associate it with death! Hell no, you weren't getting in that thing!

"Um, Daddy?" you mumbled, uncertainty drenching your small voice. "M-maybe we could rush to my apartment to use my bed and I'll put up some curtains?"

Daddy's smile disappeared, quickly being replaced with a deep frown. He narrowed his red eyes in your direction, tightening the grip he had on your hand.

"We won't make it before the sun rises," he growled, his voice deep and curt. "Now, get in our coffin."

When you hesitated, Daddy lost his patience, wrapping both of his steel arms around you. The vampire was much stronger than you are, so he had absolutely no problem forcing you into the tight confines of the small coffin.

Daddy crawled inside right after you, grabbing the lid and slamming it down with a bang. An audible click sounded out, and you were trapped in the dark coffin.

You couldn't see a thing thanks to how dark it was.

The coffin was so compact that you could feel multiple sides-- the back pressed against you and was rather soft, but you could also feel the one of the sides and the top touching you. It was enclosed all around you, trapping you, leaving almost no room for you to even move or wiggle around.

You could barely move.

You could barely breathe.

But there was a cold, hard feature inside the coffin with you, and it snaked both of its large arms around you and roughly yanked you into it.

Daddy buried his nose in your air and moaned loudly as he inhaled your scent.

"Calm down, Darling," he cooed. "Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt dizzy from your panicked hyperventilating.

"It's okay, my sweet darling," Daddy continued to whisper into your ear, keeping you trapped against him. "I know it's a bit of an adjustment, but it'll be worth it, I promise."

He pressed his cool lips against your forehead.

You tried to squirm away, but he was tight against your front and the side of the coffin was tight against your back.

There was no room to move away.

At all.

You're trapped.

"Get some sleep, Darling," Daddy yawned. "I love you."

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #Yandere vampire #Vampire x reader #possessive love #vampire #vampire boyfriend

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jjkamochoso · 1 month

Text

JJK Men with Insomniac Partner

Fluff

Request from Wattpad JJK Men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji:

You sighed as you laid in bed annoyed, sleep evading you as it always seems to these days.

"Babe? You alright?" said a sleepy voice next to you.

"Uh huh," you responded, embarrassed you had woken up your beloved bed buddy, "don't worry about it, Yuji. Go back to sleep."

You felt sheets rustle as you could just barely make out his figure in the darkness of the room. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, lighting up his face that was contorted in worry.

"You sound sad. Having trouble sleeping again?" he asked, his big eyes shining brightly with concern as he reached for your hand, caressing it softly with his thumb.

"Yeah."

His lips formed a pout. "You should've woken me up! You know I'd stay up with you."

You let out another sigh. "And drag you into my bad sleep habits? No way."

"You don't have to deal with this alone, you know."

You felt his arms wrap around you, the comfort of his touch instantly calming you.

"You wanna watch a movie? Maybe something really boring that way you'll fall asleep no problem!"

You heard the smile he was wearing in his eager voice and you thought about how lucky you were to have such a kind boyfriend who loved to try and solve your problems.

You giggled. "That's a good idea, but you holding me is actually relaxing me a bit. Can we just stay like this for now?"

Yuji brought you in closer, pressing a kiss to your head. "Of course. But if I fall asleep again, please wake me up. Preferably with a kiss but if that doesn't work, a slap is fine, too."

You just shook your head, smiling. Your insomnia didn't seem as daunting with Yuji around!

Megumi:

It was 5am and your body had decided it had enough sleep for the night. Granted, you had only slept a mere 3 hours, but it was clear that you weren't going to be resting any longer so you got up, frustrated with how your day was starting. You made your way outside, careful not to disrupt any of the other students. You roamed the empty halls of Jujutsu High, the sun still below the horizon. You decided to go to your favorite spot on mornings like these: the roof of a classroom building. It was peaceful, hidden away from any other unfortunate souls who may be up at that hour. You climbed the stairs and opened the door to the roof. When you stepped out of the doorway, you saw the silhouette of a boy that was extremely familiar to you and your day already seemed to go in a better direction. You walked over, your feet barely making any noise as you sat next to your boyfriend.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked. His voice was softer, not sporting that slight edge that creeped in more and more as the hours passed by.

"Nope. You either?"

"Nope."

You two sat in silence with your shoulders brushing, watching the sun as it slowly rose.

"I knew you'd be here," Megumi said after several minutes. "I hope you don't mind I'm here too."

"You make everything better," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder. He was grateful that the sun was washing everything in its orange glow so you couldn't see the blush forming on his cheeks.

Yuta:

When Yuta woke up with empty arms and a cold spot where you usually lay, his heart sank. He knew exactly what was going on--your insomnia had struck again. Frowning, he pulled himself out of bed and took hold of an extra blanket before starting his search in the dark for you. He finally found you in the shared kitchen area, the light illuminating your hands cupped around your drink. He felt tugs at his heartstrings seeing your defeated posture.

"Y/n?" he called out softly, not wanting to scare you. You turned in your chair, surprise written on your face.

"Yuta! What are you doing up? It's the middle of the night."

"I woke up and you were gone," he said, putting the blanket around your shoulders before sitting next to you. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You buried your face in your hands. "I didn't mean to scare you! And I probably woke you when I got up. I'm sorry, I'm the worst."

Yuta gently took your hands into his own, coaxing you to look at him. "Hey, hey! No more of that. That's not true at all. I think I just subconsciously knew you left and that's why I woke. Not your fault."

He smiled at you tenderly. "I'll keep you company until you finish your drink and then we can walk back together, okay?"

"I'm fine, you have to go get your sleep," you tried to argue, but he wouldn't have it.

"I don't want you to be lonely. Besides," he added timidly, "I can't get any rest without you by my side."

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Then I promise to gulp this down so we can get you to bed, you hopeless romantic."

Seeing Yuta get adorably flustered in the dead of night made you not hate your insomnia so much!

Inumaki:

Frustrated with your lack of sleepiness, you did what any person would do: text their boyfriend!

You: hey are u awake? can't sleep☹️

Toge👅: of course i am !!

Toge👅: ooooh you want me soooo bad😈

You: never mind ur annoying

Toge👅: NOOOO PLEASE IM JOKING🥺🙏🧎

You: ur lucky ur cute. be right over

Toge👅: yay😇

When you got to Toge's room, the first thing you did was touch his game console. Feeling its heat, you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"You weren't awake, you liar! You just turned this off and fell asleep, didn't you!"

"Bonito flakes!" he replied indignantly.

"I should go. I can't keep you up all night," you said, trying to knock some sense into him, but he grasped your arm before you could leave. Pointing to his bed, you took the hint to sit down. Showing you his typed answer on his phone, you saw him raise his eyebrows playfully.

Do you think this is the first time I've ever pulled an all nighter?

"Well, no but-"

He interrupted you with a finger to your lips, typing furiously with his other unoccupied hand.

It definitely won't be the last. Any time I can spend with you I'll gladly take :)

After you read the message, your eyes traveled up to see Toge blinking at you slowly, serenity overtaking his features. You gave him a short kiss before he turned the game console back on, snuggling into your side and low-key thankful for your insomnia to allow him to see you for many more hours--and also for the chance to beat the level he was currently stuck on.

Noritoshi:

After a long night of staring at the ceiling and finding no relief of sleep, you decided it was best to just get up instead of waiting for something that was never coming. You found yourself walking to the campus library, looking forward to losing yourself in an interesting book after 7 hours of dealing with uninteresting thoughts clouding your mind while you laid in bed. Plucking a story from the shelf, you quickly dove in. You were so engrossed that you didn't hear the library door opening and closing, signaling you were no longer alone.

"Y/n," Noritoshi said, capturing your attention. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Me? What about yourself?"

"I asked you first," he replied teasingly, sitting in the chair next to you.

"I couldn't sleep at all," you confessed, your voice coated in disappointment.

"Me neither," he replied. "Is it your insomnia or are you bothered by something?"

"Bothered by insomnia."

He nodded, knowing you had dealt with that for quite a long time.

"Obviously I'm no better off," he started, his gray eyes looking upon you lovingly, "so I don't have advice but I can offer you some companionship if you'd like."

"That would be amazing. Thank you," you told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek that made a faint blush arise on his skin. His smooth robes that brushed against your shoulder as you two read your books in a comfortable silence gave you the sense of calm you were craving all night.

Todo:

You were lying awake in your bedroom, the clock reading much past the time you should’ve been asleep. Your insomnia was hitting hard tonight and you didn’t know what to do. There weren’t many outside activity options available during the middle of the night but there was no way you could take another second being confined in the four walls that granted you no rest.

You: hey do you happen to be awake rn? no worries if not :)

Todo💪: can’t sleep??

Todo💪: I’m coming over!!

You lit up into a big smile when you read Aoi’s texts. He knew you so well and was always there for you whenever you needed him. You heard soft knocks at your door and opened it, greeted by your boyfriend flashing you a grin of his own as he leaned against the doorway.

“Care to go for a walk?”

Yeah—he understood you better than anyone else you had ever met.

“Please,” you said, taking his outstretched hand as you traversed into the night. The moon was hanging high in the sky, illuminating the walkway.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep. Is there anything I can do?” he asked sweetly.

“This is more than enough, I promise,” you said. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for that, y/n,” Aoi told you, giving your hand a small squeeze. “It’s a privilege and an honor for me to be the person you come to when you need comfort. Thank you.”

He looked like he was ready to cry, overwhelmed by his love for you. You pressed your body closer to his to show your own affection for him as you stepped in time with each other. You were relieved to know that no matter the time of day or situation you were in, Aoi wouldn’t hesitate to be by your side.

Ino:

You were busy making yourself some food in your apartment kitchen after your many unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep. You figured a midnight—well, 2am—snack couldn’t hurt so you got to work, making sure not to create too much noise; not that it mattered. Ino had started snoring at almost the exact moment his head hit the pillow, filling you with envy at how quick he could slumber. Seeing as he probably wouldn’t stir even if a bomb went off in the house, you weren’t too concerned about waking him up, though you were still being courteous. You put the baking sheet full of cookies you just made into the oven and were just about to shut the oven door.

“Ooh yum! Cookies!”

You slammed the oven door shut in your surprise, jumping out of your skin at the unexpected kitchen visitor.

“Oh my god, Ino! You scared me to death!” you chided, holding a hand to your wildly beating heart.

“Heh, sorry babe. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a nervous, crooked smile.

“What are you doing awake anyway? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I got up to go to the bathroom and you weren’t in bed so I wanted to see if you were okay,” he explained. “Although I’m a fan of baked goods, why are you making these right now?”

“Couldn’t sleep a wink,” you said, irritated at your situation.

“That’s no fun, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “How about I stay up with you until these are done? Some cookies, a glass of milk, and kissing you doesn’t sound like a half bad way to spend my night.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you tired in the morning,” you said, concerned.

“I promise I’ll be fine. I can deal with being a little sleepy if it means I can gaze upon your cute face for more time than usual.”

You lightly swatted his chest. “You’re so cheesy.”

He grinned, pulling you into a kiss that lasted until the cookies were done (and then some).

Gojo:

Satoru's eyes blinked open as soon as he felt the bed spring up slightly, your body no longer on the mattress. He laid alone in silence for a few moments, waiting to hear the usual clink of a water glass on the bedside table signaling your arrival, but that sound never reached his ears. Sliding his slippers on his feet, he padded into the kitchen of your shared apartment and was met with you sitting at the table, your body slumped over.

"You still alive down there?" he asked, poking you with his finger.

"I can't sleep," you grumbled, your voice muffled.

"Sure you can, it's easy. Just close your eyes-"

Your head shot up, giving him a glare which effectively quieted him for a second before he gave you a sheepish grin.

"Just trying to lighten the mood," he said, sitting next to you. You felt the comforting motion of a hand rubbing circles on your back as you sighed.

"I'm exhausted, Satoru."

He could tell by the way your eyes were missing some of their trademark sparkle.

"I know. I deal with sleepless nights a lot, too," he confessed. "I don't have any advice. I'm sorry."

He slung a lanky arm around your shoulder. "But you know what should help a little bit?"

"Hmm?"

"Spending time with your favorite man."

You gasped. "Nanami's here?"

Your next few sleepless hours were spent cuddling with Satoru to make up for your teasing!

Geto:

You sat up in bed, exasperated at your body's inability to let you slumber. You had tried to tire yourself out extra today in hopes of making you sleepy, but it had only led you to this moment where you were unable to sleep and extra cranky because you were so worn out. You were about to get out of bed and watch tv in the other room when an arm snaked around your waist.

"What's wrong, my love?" Suguru wondered, sensing your irritation.

"My insomnia strikes again. I can't sleep no matter what I do."

Your boyfriend sat up, lighting the candle that resided on the table next to the bed. You watched the flame flicker as Suguru guided your head to his chest, his arms around you in an effort to console you.

"I wish I could cure your discomfort. You don't deserve to feel this way, not when there are so many others who should never know a peaceful night again. It's unfair."

"Just luck of the draw, I guess," you mused, feeling him tighten his grip on you.

"I know I can't ease your sleeplessness but I promise I will be alongside you the whole time. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

"Just... hold me, please."

Although sleep never came for you that night, you were left feeling renewed from your heart full of love.

Nanami:

Having woken up too many times in one night to be considered healthy, you decided to abandon the idea of sleep and start your day at 4 in the morning. You sat down with your laptop and began working, hoping to at least do something productive instead of wallowing in your frustration at your insomnia. Before you knew it, the sun was high in the sky and you knew Kento would be up soon so you decided to make breakfast for you both.

"Good morning, handsome," you greeted him when he stepped into the kitchen, a kind smile resting on his face as he gave you a small kiss.

"Good morning, dear. I take it you've been up a while?" he asked, sipping on the coffee you brewed.

"Not that long," you lied, not wanting to worry him. He looked behind you and spied your laptop that was left open on a document he knew for a fact you hadn't started since the last time you spoke--which was last night at bedtime.

"Having trouble sleeping again?" he questioned, but it came out more as a statement since he already knew the answer. You nodded, taking a bite of your food.

He sighed and took a gentle hold of your hand. "You should wake me when that happens. That way you won't have to be alone."

"You need your sleep, Kento."

"I get enough," he said with no hesitation. "I'd rather be awake and slightly tired than let you suffer by yourself."

He brought your hand his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"I hope tonight is better for you," he said, "but if it isn't, I'll be right there with you. Okay?"

You couldn't help the smile that appeared at his stubbornness. "Okay."

Choso:

"It's happening again, isn't it?"

You turned away from the tv show you were watching and saw your boyfriend Choso leaning against a wall behind you, the light from the screen giving him an ethereal look.

"Unfortunately," you replied, not very successful at masking your discontentment toward the insomnia that was plaguing you. Stretching his arms and yawning, he walked over and took a seat next to you.

"How can I help?" he asked, his big brown eyes studying your tired features.

"No, Choso, you should go to bed. You need to rest."

He sent a soft smile your way. "I think I've gotten plenty of rest over the years I've been alive. I want to help you."

You relented, leaning into his side. "I appreciate that but there's really nothing that helps. Nothing that I've found, anyway."

"I see." He cuddled up closer to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to the tv. "Then I guess I'll have to stay up with you until I think of something."

You had butterflies in your stomach from his insistence to stay awake you.

"Are you sure?" you asked, wanting to double check that he meant it.

"I couldn't dream of anything better than being in your company all night long."

Toji:

You groaned quietly as you awoke for the fifth time that night, not able to stay asleep long enough for any rest to come your way. Knowing that you wouldn't be blessed with any more sleep, you picked up your phone and began to scroll mindlessly, hoping to ease your frustration with some screen time. You held your phone close to your face with your back turned to your boyfriend, not wanting the light to wake him up as well.

"Whatcha hidin' over there?" asked Toji, his voice gravelly as he loomed over you. You jumped, not expecting him to be awake.

"Toji! You scared me," you complained. He let out a laugh, propping himself up with his hand.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, cutie," he said and you could practically hear his smirk.

"Couldn't sleep?" he questioned, taking on a more serious tone as he dragged a finger up and down your arm in a gentle caress.

You groaned again. "No. This is, like, the millionth time I've woken up. I gave up trying to sleep."

"That sucks."

"Understatement of the year, but yeah."

He glanced at the alarm clock next to you. "It's almost morning anyway. How about I just hold ya until the sun comes up?"

You quirked an eyebrow. "Getting sentimental on me in the early hours, Fushiguro?"

He started to lay back down. "Or you could go back to your phone if that's preferable."

"I'm coming over, you big baby," you joked, scooting your body into his, the confines of his steady grip making your heart soar with happiness. It wasn't often that you two could enjoy loving moments like these so you made sure to savor every second in his arms.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki toge x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #aoi todo x reader #ino takuma x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 months

Note

Okay, so I’m weirdly into the idea of being someone’s estranged wife???

Imagine being Patrick’s estranged wife?? Like maybe he married you bc he couldn’t have Tashi and then just…never signed the divorce papers? And now he’s knocking on your door bc there’s a challenger he’s gonna play in buttttt his bank account’s a little low so could he pretty please crash with you? He’ll sleep on his couch and be on his best behavior, he swears

Queue him crawling into bed with you at 2 am bc it’s cold in the living room and you’re soft and pretty and whoops, he’s hard

Ooo love this

Warnings: Fingering, Patrick Being Patrick, bitter and estranged ex-wife Reader

"You have any chicken nuggets?"

"What are you, five?"

"Adults can enjoy chicken nuggets."

They certainly could, but you didn't grace that reply with a response, just watched with tepid interest as he rifled through the contents of your fridge.

A single phrase kept resounding in your mind:

I should've left him on the doorstep.

And maybe you should have. It wouldn't be the first time that you'd given Patrick the cold shoulder, and it wouldn't be the first time that he just parked in your driveway and slept in his car. But you just couldn't stand the sight of him out in the cold, pouting and gnawing on his lower lip in the fish-eye lens of your peephole.

"Why don't we order a pizza?" He tacked on.

We. It was always 'we' with him, but never in the action, or the cost—that was a 'you' action, not a 'we' more often than not.

"Who's paying for it?" You asked. Patrick turned to you with a dopey, guilty little smile affixed to his lips as he cocked his hip.

"Well until I sign the papers, the two shall be as one, right?"

"Yeah—Why haven't you signed, by the way?"

"Your guy's never been able to serve 'em." He turned back to the fridge, ducking his head as he looked around. "You got any beer?"

You rolled your eyes. "Third shelf, at the back."

"Bingo. Want one?"

"Not right now. But thanks for offering me something that I bought and paid for. Really appreciate it."

Patrick huffed a soft laugh as he turned toward you again, opening the beer against the edge of the counter.

"Mine mine mine," He teased. "What is it with you and what's yours, huh?"

"Just stating facts, Zweig."

"So self-righteous, Mrs. Zweig." He used your married name with a vinegary smile before taking a deep swig from his bottle, pointedly ignoring the way that you bristled. "So. Pizza?"

Just the couch.

Patrick had pleaded it between bites of pizza, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the crumbs and oil left behind. He'd framed it as a reasonable enough request, like it was the easiest thing in the world to let your estranged husband back into your home.

You won't even know I'm there.

As if you hadn't been fighting to find a harmony within yourself for the last year, trying to serve him papers for the last six months, to get your divorce to take, to rid yourself of his last name.

Watching him sort through the garbage bags of clothing that you'd packed up for him to come and take between tours had been a little pitiful, but he'd unearthed what he'd needed to sleep in.

"Still have a toothbrush for me?" He asked.

"No."

"Face wash?"

"Don't you just use soap?"

"Yeah, but you put me on that, uh—That regimen, that routine."

"You never followed it."

"So you threw the stuff out?"

"I wasn't using it, so. Yeah."

"Huh." Patrick straightened, PJs in hand. You couldn't help but watch him strip off as he passed you, eyeing the ripple of his back muscles as he tossed his shirt in the direction of his bag.

"I'm showering," He called over his shoulder, "If you'd like to join me."

"I'd rather chew glass, but thanks."

He was sleeping. He had to be, right? It didn't matter if he was or wasn't. It didn't matter that Patrick Zweig was asleep on your couch, just a floor away. It didn't matter that you were worked up, at the midpoint between pissed off and turned on.

How did he always manage to do that to you?

You should've been able to clock early on that it was trouble. None of your friends or family thought it would work out, and you'd been chagrined when they'd been right. For as much as you had once loved him, for as certain as you and Patrick had been sure you would fit, that you would fix whatever needed fixing, no matter what fate had in store for you, you just...Couldn't.

It didn't help that he had been chasing glory on the court, or that you had spent your relationship trying to fill the shoes of a woman that you could never be. It didn't help that the two of you were just fundamentally different, in ways that you either of you were unwilling to compromise. When he'd left, it hadn't been a surprise, but it had been so goddamn hard to serve him papers. But you'd had such trouble trying to pin him down during your relationship, why should the way you broke be any different?

But when you'd been in bed together—Hell, you'd been even more certain that it could work. You and Patrick just fit. Things had been so right with so little conversation or hesitation. Your needs had fueled one another's, and you'd been able to lose yourself in him. It should have been enough.

But it wasn't then, and it wasn't now.

He was asleep. He had a match the next morning, and he needed his rest. You could do the same—You should do the same. You needed to be staring at the ceiling right now like you need a goddamn hole in the head. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and doing your best to focus on your breathing. In for five... Hold...Out...For...Five...In for...One...Two...Three...Four...

Your eyes opened, your breath catching as you heard the door open. You held completely still as you heard the door close again, chased by the soft pad of feet along your floor before the mattress dipped beside you. The covers shifted, lifting and falling as he laid down.

"Are you asleep?" He murmured. It was another moment before his palm skimmed across your belly, his rough cheek nuzzling against the curve of your shoulder. Your breath left you in a soft sigh, your muscles untensing bit by bit.

"I know you haven't been here in a while," You muttered, "But this is not the couch."

He huffed a soft laugh. "I know," He snuggled closer, and it was just a moment before you felt the press of his cock against your hip. You drew in a shaky breath, hands lowering to his arm.

"Patrick," You mumbled. "You should be asleep."

"I can't sleep." His teeth scraped along your jaw as his fingers snaked under the hem of your nightshirt.

"Indigestion?" You squeaked. "Shouldn't've had that third slice of pizza. I told you not to."

Your eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips against you.

"This feel like pizza to you?"

"Well—"

"Baby," He pleaded. "You gonna tell me you didn't miss me?"

It took you a moment, and you couldn't help your slight squirming.

"Not even a little."

He laughed again, and you knew that you hadn't been able to sneak a thing by him.

"You don't have to lie. I saw you watching me." He tipped his chin up, sucking a tender kiss to your neck. And you had, but—

"I wasn't."

Patrick tutted disapprovingly. You shuddered, arching up into his touch as his thumb skimmed across your hardening nipple.

"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

"You're an asshole," You hissed as Patrick lifted his head.

"You like it."

You couldn't get a word out to argue as Patrick's tongue swept between your lips. You whimpered in spite of yourself, sinking back against your pillows and raising your hand to fist in his hair. He was over you in a moment, body shoving your thighs wide as his hands rucked up the bottom of your sleep shirt. You drew in a sharp breath as his head dipped to catch one of your nipples between his lips. You tightened your grip on his, shivering as he teased it with his tongue.

Patrick's hips ground against yours, rolling against where you're growing slick in your sleep shorts.

"How long's it been?" He murmured, "Huh? Since me?"

And it was too embarrassing to say—too embarrassing to admit that you hadn't slept with anyone since Patrick left.

"Shut up," You hissed, "Just—Please, shut up."

His hand snuck beneath the hem of your shorts, swiping gently across your tender clit, and he grinned as your hips hitched up into his deft touch.

"S'okay," He cooed as he eased a couple of fingers into your tight, aching cunt. "I missed you, too."

"You gonna come watch me play?"

As with the rest of the last day or so, your answer should be no. You didn't turn to look at Patrick as you rummaged through your dresser for something to wear.

"I've seen you play, Patrick."

"Not lately." He tried again: "It's a challenger."

You hummed, giving a noncommittal shrug as you pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

"...Well can I stay here tonight?"

"If you win, sure."

"How will you know I win if you don't come see me?"

You rolled your eyes, hip-checking your drawer shut before pulling up your pants and tugging in your top.

"Fine. Just tonight. You'll have to find somewhere tomorrow night."

"I'll have the prize money by then, I'll crash at a motel."

"Oh, a motel. Hey big spender," You drawled, heading for your door.

"Hey."

"What?"

"You have the papers here?"

It stopped you dead in your tracks, your stomach churning with unease as you looked at him again.

"...What?"

"The divorce papers," He clarified. "I can sign 'em while I'm here."

It would be so easy. It would be so easy to go down to your office and draw the file out of your desk drawer, to plop it down in front of Patrick with your favorite black ballpoint pen, to flip between arrow tabs and instruct, "Sign here, here, here, here, here, and here."

But you found yourself shaking your head.

"I don't have a copy," You fibbed. It took Patrick a moment before he nodded a little.

"Can you get them?"

Hell, were you that out of practice? One night back in bed with you and he was ready to call it? But you were certain that wasn't it—That Patrick was, for once in his goddamn life, trying to make it easy on you after so much hell.

"...Maybe, I don't know," You shrugged. "It's the weekend."

"Okay."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah—Hey."

"What?"

You watched as Patrick pulled the covers away, unashamed of his nakedness as he strode toward you. He grasped your chin, tipping your head for a soft kiss. It took everything in you not to melt into him as he skimmed his hand over your hip, drawing back just enough to give you a sleepy, hazy smile.

"Good morning."

You couldn't help your own, indignant smile.

"Sure, Patrick." You turned away, determined to push on with your day, your life like he wasn't there—like he wouldn't be hanging over you as you made breakfast, or dominating the court as he played, or in your bed again in just a few hours. "Good morning."

#Patrick Zweig x Reader #Patrick Zweig x You #Patrick Zweig/Reader #Patrick Zweig/You #Patrick Zweig fic #Patrick Zweig imagine

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