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hangmanssunnies · 6 months

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Heat To Boil

Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 9k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)

Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship.

It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts.

Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills.

You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up.

Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along.

Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually.

You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"

"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response.

"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds.

"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request.

"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?"

Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him.

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?"

You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"

"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries.

"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm.

"And what?" Jake asks.

"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail."

Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson.

Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.

When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you.

You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead.

The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste.

He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.

"Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson.

"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes."

"Now, darling," Jake drawls.

"Don't darling me."

"Doll," He says

"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured.

"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."

"How is that fair?"

"It's fair because he is my godson."

You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?"

"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."

"So what? You don't trust me with him?"

"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."

Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling.

"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on."

"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.

You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face.

After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though.

When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need.

You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil.

When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over.

"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.

"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit,"

"You were really great with him today."

"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.

"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic.

"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking.

"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly.

"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."

"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?"

"Oh, so are you debating or like —"

"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake."

He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately.

"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke."

"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends."

There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."

"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous.

"I'm sorry, Dolly."

"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."

"Are you going to ask someone else?"

"What?"

"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone.

You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe."

"I could help you find someone," he offers.

"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."

He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"

"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you."

"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out."

"No —"

"Harvard—"

"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument.

"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"

"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends."

"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack.

"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher.

"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide.

"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.

"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go."

"We have to," you insist.

"Why?"

"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option."

"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now."

"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"

"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."

It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."

"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.

"Don't say thank you."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you.

"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace.

"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?"

"I thought so."

"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not."

"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow."

"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway.

"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door.

"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened.

"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship."

"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns.

"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy."

"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs.

"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"

You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him.

This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath.

"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first."

"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much.

"May I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more.

When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it.

"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again.

"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling.

"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."

Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead.

"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight."

Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner.

"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours.

"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you.

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."

"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion.

"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans.

"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way."

"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby."

Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."

A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage.

"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you."

"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross."

"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?"

You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."

"Great. So, baby —"

"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid.

"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly.

"Then why are you all the way over there?"

"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself."

Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are.

"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him.

"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly.

"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?"

"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours."

You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed.

He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is.

With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch.

Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you.

"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like.

"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body.

As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin.

"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?"

"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips.

"I want to. Do you not want me to?"

"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out.

"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing."

Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.

"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you.

Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.

Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.

"I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs.

"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter.

"Patience is a virtue," he teases.

"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."

Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.

However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk.

Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well.

"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby."

"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."

Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about.

The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though.

"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present.

"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard.

The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes.

"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously.

"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."

"I'll fill you up," Jake promises.

"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you.

"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too.

Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this.

Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time.

"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily.

"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out.

Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.

"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.

"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him.

Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you.

"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."

"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you."

"You're desperate for me too?"

"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?"

"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly.

Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more.

"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm.

As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him.

The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak.

When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?"

"Do you?" You wonder.

"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately.

"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him.

"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry."

"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby."

"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you.

"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin.

Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?"

"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation.

"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back.

Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile.

"Hey baby," he whispers.

"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together.

"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand.

"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."

"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention.

"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved."

"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow."

"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman imagine #hot hot hot!#hoeing for hangman

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kirbyskisses · 11 months

Text

a thing i wrote in @14thcommander’s dms. no warnings; fem!reader + fluff. i’m in love with the emo boy/cutesy girl aesthetic.

i am once again thinking of childhood friends to lovers with megumi fushiguro

you’re a pudgy little thing at your kindergarten where everyone else is ignoring the spiky black haired boy sitting by himself on the bench with an uncaring expression.

your interest is piqued as he’s picked up by a lanky, white-haired man who carries a goofier, more youthful energy than any of the other parents.

you bravely trot up, little pastel boots splashing in the rain at the odd duo and call.

“hey wait! uhm… what was your name! fu…fushi-?” you try to remember his name from roll call and his dark eyes widen at your approach momentarily before drooping again.

“i’m fushiguro.”

“fu-shi-gu-ro, right!” you laugh, a bright gentle sound despite the gray day. “i like your doggy, fushiguro!”

that causes him and his guardian to pause, the white haired man crouching to you, incredibly blue eyes peering amicably over pitch black glasses.

“well now… you can see it huh? you’ve certainly got a lot of cursed energy for a kid so small. you know, you’re very special to see those?” he smiles and you grin back.

“yeah! i can see ‘im!” your bright eyes turn back to megumi, delighted. “can i pet him them?? pretty please!!”

megumi looks to gojo’s approving grin, then to you with a soft nod as your tiny form pats the white devil dog’s snout, a mess of giggles at its curious nose and teeth.

and then “fushiguro” becomes “megumin” and then “min-chan.”

min-chan who you have play dates with that evolve into study dates and training where he can never bring himself to actually lay a hit on you.

min-chan who frowns when you go home from school early with a cold, but blushes a subtle pink when he walks into his house and sees you getting your hair braided by his sister.

min-chan whose cheeks dust a light pink at the bright, ever-excited warmth of your smile as you explain - “your house was closer, so tsumiki-nee said to stay here rather than walk home sick!”

min-chan who’s a bit more of a hormonal tween now. his blush darkens when he sees you wearing his extra shirt to sleep in and hears you using his shower.

min-chan who finds out you’re being mocked or bullied for your interests in middle school and comes to you with bloodied knuckles as he walks you to the train station. he always walks you, every day.

“it’s not my blood.” he looks at the red staining his hands. “don’t look so worried. next time they bother you, just tell me…”

min-chan who is devoted to cheering you up.

min-chan who listens you talk about whatever manga boy it is your simping over or whatever new album you’ve torrented onto your ipod. he only gives soft nods and the occasional smile but you know he’s listening diligently.

and min-chan who bites his lips and mutters “it’s not a big deal” anytime you congratulate him on taming a new shadow curse.

min-chan who mumbles “hold on tight,” red in the face when you wrap around him to ride nue for the first time.

min-chan who hides that his new phone has you – cradling one of his smaller shadow frogs – as his wallpaper.

min-chan who frowns his gojo perpetually pokes his cheek - teasing that his “girlfriend” really is getting stronger and he needs to catch up if he wants to keep the “tough emo boyfie” act up.

min-chan whose eyes widen when you call him “megumi” - thanking him for everything and handing him a box of cookies for gojo-san, the day you move away. you’re strong enough to master your family’s technique back in their home country.

so now he’s megumi.

megumi who nods tersely as your cute voice chides “don’t get into too many fights okay? and hug the puppies twice as much for me!”

megumi who doesn’t stop thinking about how your lips feel against his cheek for days.

megumi who wants to text, but his head nags that he’d only be an annoyance to your training - maybe it’s better he just leaves you alone. besides, curses are getting stronger and tsumiki has fallen ill - he has enough to worry about.

megumi fushiguro, high school student, who bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as gojo drags him, nobara and itadori along to pick up the last first year of the bunch.

fushiguro who rolls his eyes as the two question what the new addition will be like.

and his breath hitches, seeing a form in a familiar blue uniform. a form dripping in a controlled yet powerful cursed aura, down the street.

with cute cartoon dog pins and a handful of shojo manga, the teen rushes up and calls out. the voice is deeper given the passing years but no less exuberant and familiar.

“gojo-san!! over here!!”

megumi, who feels like a kid again, flushed cheeks and surprised eyes as gojo swings you around with a laugh and you attentively compliment nobara’s lipstick and listen to itadori’s ever-goofy introduction.

“i’m into girls like jennifer lawrence.” he says with not an ounce of shame, megumi still reeling at hearing you say your name with the same friendly laugh you did all those years ago.

“… and i’m into guys like — min-chan!!”

your eyes land on him and the rest of you soon follows, swallowing his taller form whole in a tight hug that knocks him to the sidewalk.

you don’t pay a single iota of attention to the onlookers or to the surprised expressions on each of your classmates instead just letting them watch as you cup his cheeks and squeal.

“it’s been sooooo long! you got bigger - did the puppies get bigger too?! got any new animals? gojo-san got a new blindfold isn’t it cool? hey, how come you didn’t call me or tell me tsumiki-nee is sick - i would have come sooner to help! did you hear i might become a first grade sorcerer this year? how come you never called or wrote?! you’re so rude… but i forgive because i missed you so much!! doesn’t my uniform look cute?!”

you spit out in rapid succession, pinching his cheeks.

megumi who doesn’t have time nor evidence to deny it this time when gojo calls you his “girlfriend” in front of an utterly shocked yuuji and nobara. who only takes a deep, shaky breath to regain his normal deadpan expression.

his other two classmates’ jaws drop farther when he replies without a hitch.

“i’m 175 centimeters now. yes the dogs are bigger. i have rabbits, a serpent and an elephant now. his new blindfold is fine but it makes him no less annoying. i didn’t want to bother you, i’m proud of you for you raise in grade…” he pauses and only then looks away with another deep breath, red on his cheeks.

“thank you for forgiving me…i missed you too…and you do look very cute in your uniform.”

because he’s megumi - the one who acts disinterested to everyone but as always hears every word you say.

megumi, your childhood friend, who doesn’t so much as blink, expression bored at yuuji and nobara’s horrified surprise or gojo’s teasing grin.

he just keeps holding you, sat there on the sidewalk as you nuzzle your cheeks to his like an overly-affectionate kitten happy to have your “min-chan” back. <3

#megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #x reader #what you won’t queue for love❤️

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tremendum · 7 months

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personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 5.6k requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines Mr. Miller Series ]

★

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to.

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth.

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs.

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection.

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least.

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response.

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's.

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university.

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ.

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you.

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions.

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..."

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it.

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks.

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?"

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have." you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad.

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?"

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse.

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city?

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention.

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you.

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him.

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight.

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench.

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah."

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters.

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off.

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio.

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen.

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid.

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator -

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage."

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping."

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads.

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look.

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite.

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked.

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has.

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done.

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel."

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad."

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change."

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down.

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light.

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike.

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame.

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-"

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?"

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt.

"Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks.

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me."

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes."

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts.

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise."

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want."

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need.

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?"

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that."

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though.

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it."

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens.

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show."

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge.

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you."

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer.

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass.

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words.

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs.

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him.

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly.

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you.

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt.

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl.

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth.

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet."

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow.

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back.

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-"

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision.

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen.

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?"

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?"

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling.

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper.

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it.

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it."

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant.

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock."

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding.

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit.

“f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp.

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio.

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen.

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you.

you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him.

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning.

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?"

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs.

shit.

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#joel miller smut #joel smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pre-outbreak!joel miller #joel the last of us

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muntitled · 7 months

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𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

Hazel Callahan x F!Reader

Summary: "Jesus, dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party?"

Warnings: Hyper Feminine!Reader, Language, Fluff, Jealousy, Humor, Reader has a crush, Confessions, Teasing, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Dom!Hazel, Humping, Grinding, Masturbation, Pillowprincess!Reader tbh, Thigh Riding, Public sex, Risky Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Power Play, Ownership Kink?, Praise Kink, Slight!Hate sex ♡

Part two >

Hazel Callahan was rarely included into anything vaguely external, she would venture to say that she was even rarely included in her own thoughts. Therefore, infuriatingly, painfully aloof Hazel thought nothing of the invite you had presented to the entire group at Fight Club.

Why should she feel special?

Things like this seldom warranted her definite response, so when all the girls had affirmed their attendance, Hazel was... discombobulated to find a silence of anticipation growing pregnant in the gym.

It took a sharp stab in the ribs from PJ for Hazel to swing her head back into this specific reality in the space-time continuum. A reality in which you sat adjacent to her in a circle, legs crossed dainty underneath you to better accommodate the neatly pressed pleads in your pink skirt. There was nothing remarkably profound from you carrying yourself like the pretty princess you thought you were, what strikes Hazel as odd, however, was the look of expectancy in your dark eyes- a look you directed at… her?

"What?"

"You're coming? To my slumber party tonight?" you reiterate stifling the need to pat down at your braids corralled into a pink headband. You are basking under the scrutiny of her gaze but you also happened to suffer under it too. The longer Hazel watched you with furrowed brows, and her knee propped up to her chest, the longer you keened forward as if desperate to hear her say-

"Of course she's coming," PJ once again injects herself in between the two of you. "We'll all be there," You're perhaps nodding at PJ and Josie but your eyes are unable to leave the absolute prison that Hazel has them in. She does nothing except nod as well, before leaving you to your clique who all sit prettily under clouds of Chanel number 5.

The interaction replayed within the confines of Hazel's head throughout the rest of the school day. Right up until she finds herself, nestled in a car with Josie and PJ, taking the short drive in the more affluent neighbourhood from her place to yours.

"So, Hazel," the lascivious tone in PJ's voice already has her rolling her eyes as the car slows before an egregious house. "Are you ready to lose your virginity tonight?"

"Jesus Christ-" Murmurs Josie before PJ assumes what is expected to be your tone of voice- only its a hyperbolic and a higher in pitch reenactment of the real thing.

"Oh Hazel! I'd really like for you to come to my slumber party tonight!" All three girls leave the car as PJ continues her comedic display of seduction as she brushes up against Hazel and says "I really want you at my slumber party."

Hazel laughs as PJ grabs a hold of her upper arm, exposed from her open black button up and tank top. "You're coming right?" PJ sobers up as she says, "That's hot girl speak for "You're going to be cumming inside me-"

Josie does not keep her eyes off the approaching house as she interjects with, "Girls can't cum in other girls"

"Wow!" Hollers PJ, "-And here I was thinking you actually believed that girls can do everything that guys can do-"

"Wait," Hazel's eyes are on her shoes as she readjusts her tote bag and says, "You think she actually wants to like... fuck?" She lowers her voice drastically in the wake of making it up to your front door as she bends and reiterates, "Like actually fuck me?"

There is, frankly no time for Hazel to get a firm response on such a discombobulating thought because you quickly open the front door, and your skin is glowing everywhere from being completely exposed in your pink satin shorts and matching camisole set. Your hair is still loose as it frames your face- your round and constantly smiling face. Why had Hazel never noticed you until now?

Perhaps she did.

Perhaps she negated the possibility of forming a crush on you because you appeared so painfully… straight?

But here you are, smiling at her and only her. Your eyes had been bright at the sight of Hazel and her button up and how outrageously attractive she looked in a tank top but your smile dims significantly when you peer down at PJ'S hand still wrapped around Hazel's forearm.

"H-Hey," Said Hazel, with her voice that reminded you so vividly of a midnight snowstorm,

"Hey," you replied back, quickly turning away. Your mood had already been cemented for the rest of the evening. Despite it being your slumber party, you let your best friend host while you continued to wallow in the regret of your own unshakeable feelings. You hated that PJ and Hazel were very clearly a couple, but what you hated perhaps more, was that you still wanted her. You stole longing glances at her in your space, lazing on your bed while the rest of you sat encircled on the floor in sleeping bags. Hazel completely hijacked your entire brain throughout all the games and activities.

You had lost yourself in her presence and that only kicked up a notch when you felt a pair of forearms lazily splay onto your shoulders from above. With your bum still on the floor and your back against the foot of your bed, Hazel had decided to humour her turn in Truth or Dare. While she answered, she let her legs frame your body. So that it swung over the side of the bed, perfectly framing your sides.

Breathing had been impossible. So impossible in fact, you didn't know it was your turn until it took Hazel bringing her lips down to your ear. Your nerves had been shot to hell as she whispered, "Dove, it's your turn."

You cursed this idea and you cursed this wretched slumber party.

Luckily, It passed by in a significant blur that left you still riding on the high of being in Hazel's personal space until bedtime at 1am. While the girl's drifted into their own sleep, your eyes remained on the pink chandelier hanging from your ceiling while you cradled your stuffed frog to your chest. No matter how hard you try, sleep is a difficult thing to come by. You are left to your thoughts of the girl sleeping on the floor, while gentle snores sounded in the room.

"Fuck," you almost instinctively mutter as you find your hand drifting past your navel. You spread your leg ever so slightly before pushing your hand into your underwear. The quicker you came, the quicker your body could finally be allowed to slip into actual slumber. It sounded like a solid plan, and you had already taken to grinding your wet cunt against your hand- until it all went to hell and your duvet is being pulled slightly off of you.

You're quick to remove your hand and grab a hold of your covers as your eyes snap open to stare at the silhouette above you. Hazel's hair is a spectacular mess on her head and her skin shines orange from the glow of your salt lamp.

"Let me in," she whispers, not really waiting for a response before she's forcing herself into your covers, scooching you on the right side of the bed.

"What are you-"

"Shh," it's embarrassing, how quick you are to snap your mouth shut and heed her commands. Hazel's stomach warms significantly at how docile you are and she smiles as she says, "I cant sleep and I had the vague suspicion that you couldn't either." Hazel says, propping her exposed forearm under her head as she looks up at your ceiling. Her button up is discarded somewhere in the room, leaving her in basketball shorts and a tank but you're not complaining. Not at all.

"I told myself I'd be more intentional with my actions, and my actions are telling me to kiss you right now, but my feelings are telling me you might not want that." You're corraled into stark and naked shock as you watch the girl you've always wanted, confess to you in your bed. It feels unreal. The longing stares, the hours you've spent writing amatuer poetry in your notes app about her, the amount of times you made yourself cum with her heavy on your mind.

This does not feel real.

"Jesus," your voice is uncharacteristically coarse as you rush to say, "Dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party."

Hazel appears stunned as she watches you with wide eyes, "Well yeah," Says Hazel, "but… do you know what it means?"

"I've liked you since junior year," Your confession has her mind going hazy as she tries to recall all the subtle hints which she effortlessly discarded as you just being kind.

"God, you're such an idiot!" You release a chuckle that momentarily stirs a sleeping girl laying closest to the bed in her sleeping bag.

"Shh," Hazel's finger is pressed softly to her lips, you nod slowly only able to process mimicking her own actions.

"What were you doing just a second ago?" She says, swiftly removing the attention from her and her stupidity, replacing the atmosphere instead, with something much more dangerous. There's a difference in her whispers, a tone that has you melting into the covers as you unconsciously squeeze your legs shut. In this moment, she could ask anything of you, and you would simply comply. The silence stretches like honey between the two of you, and Hazel watches with doe eyes as you sink into your shame.

"You don't have to say anything." She finally whispers back, freeing you from your internal damnation but not completely letting you off the hook as she continues: "Just move your hips for me." It was an aggressively passive instruction that exploded a bundle of charged electricity between your legs. You are trapped in a distinctly uncomfortable position between wanting to comply, but wanting to be stubborn. The discomfort of these emotions are not entirely unwanted.

"Do you want me to show you how?" There is a challenging glint in her eyes that simulates the peroration of whatever the hell this is that you are both about to do.

This non-relationship which is so innately a relationship.

"Yeah." Your voice rocks with the signs of an oncoming tempest alerting your body to the possibility of something very, very exciting on the horizon.

Time and space seems so few and far in-between as Hazel keeps you arrested in those blue, endless hues. Examining her features keeps your wanton, unwinding nerves chaotically at bay. There is an intense exchange of control as Hazel shuffles closer, until her head is resting on your pillow and your both breathing into each other's parted lips.

She almost restlessly sets her palm onto your body, her hands on a slow path down your hips. It gives you a sliver of control knowing that bubbling behind her dilated pupils is a need that haunts her just as greatly.

"I'm gonna show you, okay?" She does not need to repeat herself but you recognize her words for what they are: masked behind the excitement and the charged atmosphere, is a real, and genuine need for consent.

The very moment you hopped over this threshold, you would forever be locked in a world anew. There would be no take backs. Your actions would forever be transcribed on the sacred tablet of our shared history.

"Are you going to show me, Hazel?" Desire is seated comfortably on top of your lungs and you speak only in soft pants, "Because it really feels like you're all bark and no bite."

There is a flash of excitement that sweeps momentarily over her lidded lustful gaze.

Her hands are much more sure of themselves as they lock into your sides, her fingers digging rudely into your silk pyjama bottoms.

"Shouldn't you be taking those off?" You ask cheekily.

A scoff slips through her lips as she shifts just a tad closer, her face now centimetres from yours. "You're awfully needy." Hazel whispers, "It's incredibly embarrassing."

What would prove to be even more embarrassing is the jarring way your hips stutter the very moment those words leave Hazel's lips. Your accidentally whorish slip up might have gone unnoticed were it not for the annoying fact that her right leg was seated quite cosily between your legs.

"Shut up," is all you manage to say - a desperate attempt at scrambling for your dignity crumbling in the bed between you.

Hazel laughs airly. Slowly, her hands at your hip begin to move, subsequently allowing your hips to move. A soft and slow moan passes through your lips, drowned out by the sound of sleeping girls as your eyes flutter shut.

"Hey," Hazel's lips are fully touching yours now, "Look at me." She could've never anticipated how the fucked out look in your eyes could ever make her feel. Your eyebrows are curved, as if you're in pain as you hump slowly against her thigh. The coarseness of the silk and her thigh pressing against your aching cunt… it makes everything feel so overwhelmingly real, unmarred by great expectations. The thump of her heart underneath your palm is so incredibly real. The beads of sweat growing pregnant on her forehead are real. Her dry, parted lips pressed against yours is in fact real.

"What are you thinking about?" It strikes you then that you had been a muddled, mindless haze, humping against her thigh with an urgency.

"I'm thinking about you." You reply, truthfully.

"Good things, I hope?" It is so unimaginable, the way her voice is able to remain so incredibly steady while yours is as shaky as a walrus thumping across an icy lake.

"I don't suspect anyone has ever had a single good thought about you." You shoot back and the fingers gripping your hips lock tighter, nearly prompting you to apologise.

The only other option left for you to exhaust is clamping your mouth shut as Hazel's hand assumed a much more aggressive administration. She grips on the plush skin at your sides with an unnecessary hardness, as if she wanted to tear in into you.

"See, I was gonna fuck you," it is absolutely shameful, the whimper that escapes your lips, "But now I'm gonna make you hump my leg like the slutty little girl you are." Before you could scold her, or perhaps violently disagree, rudely, before your cries of indignation could ever be forced out, Hazel is lifting you up from your side of the bed, her head shifting until her brown curls cover your pillow fully.

She turns onto her back, never releasing eye contact as she forces you down so you're straddling her steepled knee. The new position leaves you searching for a new anchor.

"Your hands are pushing down on my hair-" she grumble-whispers.

"If you'd let me finish faster that wouldn't be as much of a problem now, would it?" Hazel's response, in lieu of her thoroughly unimpressed face, had been to grind her thigh further against your core, eliciting a wanton, broken moan into the air.

"You're gonna have to be quiet, Dove." Her voice is gravel, "Wouldn't want anyone seeing how much of my whore you are, would you?" The sound of your own moans slam back into you as you press your pussy incredibly closer to her leg.

"Imagine what they might think of you? Our little star pupil getting herself off on my leg? Is that really all it takes to please you?" Staying quiet had become an unimaginable feat, a mountain that becomes even more difficult to surmount when Hazel's eyes search frantically over your crippling form for a trigger that might send you over the edge.

You couldn't begin to imagine how powerful she must feel watching your hips move wantonly on her thigh while your hooded eyes displayed desperation.

You feel so thoroughly hers, a previous existence in which you went without her hard ministrations guiding you to orgasm felt completely in vain. You want nothing more than to be so incredibly good to her, and the thought that she might want the same way sends you to an early grave.

"You're doing so well, Baby. Keeping going." An embarrassing wave of pleasure ripped straight through your spine leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. There is no mistaking that your reaction to her praise and her validation had not gone unnoticed.

Your pussy is completely soaked against her leg, burdened with the knowledge that it wants something but it didn't exactly know what.

"I need you," you whisper. Before your own shame might wave away the pleasure, you are delighted at the moan that slips through Hazel's parted lips.

You had been so thoroughly enamoured by your own pleasure, you had not stopped to consider hers. The pillow princess stereotype brought with it a wave of shame as you looked down and found her hips stuttering slowly against yours.

"I'm right here, Dove."

And you both began to melt for each other. Your legs are tangled in one another while her thigh is pressed against your clit at the same time your thigh is pressed between her legs as well.

You are pleasantly surprised when you begin to feel the fabric of Hazel shorts moving against your own legs slotted in between her. You didn't have to picture how gloriously lecherous it might have looked, using each other so blatantly to fulfil a need that had begun simmering since forever. "Oh fuck, you're so pretty," her hand finds purchase against your breast, tweaking your nipples until they hardened against the camisole while her other hand was comfortably gripping your jaw, staring up at you with lustful eyes.

"You don't even know how perfect you look right now," you did not speak a word of a lie. Watching Hazel's long and domineering form writhing underneath you is a mental image you wish to keep stored in your chest of sacred memories forever. It is discombobulating, watching someone so used to walking so tall and unbothered, being made a complete mess underneath you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

"I want you to kiss me." She croaks, despite already bringing your face close to hers by the strength of a single grip. Her eyes search yours for something. You only hope that grinding yourself even faster against her leg is a testament to whatever it is she might've been looking for. Soon, her lips crash onto yours. When Hazel Callahan kisses, she kisses sloppily and disastrously as if she wanted to swallow you whole before you ever thought of escaping. Her lips are all encompassing, her tongue is restless, pushing itself into your mouth with avid determination.

You moan softly into her mouth. A sound she appreciates greatly given the way her hips began to move against your thigh with a matching ferocity. Her hand slithers along your back, until she cups a handful of your ass, dragging your pussy once again against her, at her desired pace.

Rough. Arresting. Frantic.

"You're being too loud," She sighs, breaking away from your lips to trail them down your neck. "You're being too fucking loud-"

"Fuck, Hazel I'm close-" Your legs are locked against hers but the hand on your ass keeps your hips moving by proxy. "I'm so close."

"You're gonna cum for me, Dove?"

"Oh God, I love it when you call me that-" There is an embarrassing pool of wetness accumulated between your legs, dripping through your shorts and onto her skin. She is equally as wet and that fact only spurs you on.

"I need you to cum for me, baby?" Her stuttering hips told you her own release is dangerously close, sitting on the horizon. Perhaps your orgasm had bled into something prideful, her need to make you cum first caused her to delay her own release.

"You're fucking unbelievable." You sigh with troubled realisation.

She uncovers herself from your chest, panting heavily without her hips ever stopping. "You're gonna cum first, okay?" She nods, persuading you to mimic her movements because despite everything, you are putty in her hands.

"Okay."

As she kisses you once more her hand travels back to your now exposed boob. Between your kiss, Hazel had somehow managed to haphazardly lift your camisole enough to expose your breasts.

A straggled sound leaves the back of your throat as your orgasm crested.

She succeeded in making a mess of you. Your hair had been set free, braids spilling like wild snakes down your torso.

"Oh God, oh fuck-" a hand slaps over your mouth. Hazel's eyes are wide as she continues to guide your hips to release.

"Such a good little Dove, aren't you?" Your eyes are blown with stars and pixie dust as you nod drunkenly. She's humping your thigh and you're humping hers and soon the orgasm sneaks up on you, stealing your breath right from inside your lungs. Your strangled moan is muffled by her palm.

Her eyes take it all in with a very certain hunger, drifting from watching her own hips grinding your thigh, to the choked expression of utter euphoria splashed against your face.

"Fuck, baby." Her Eyebrows knot as her breathing picks up. The pressure visibly building across her face is nearly enough to send you back into your pool of euphoria.

"Oh fuck- oh baby," The wave of pleasure that courses through her is violent and incredibly validating. It is you who had gotten her to this point, humping your leg so desperately as if it might be the only thing she could ever hope to achieve. For someone who had built such a notable reputation for always mainting an I-dont-give-a-fuck mentality, this feels like an immense achievement for you.

Once the smoke clears, and Hazel finds herself back on planet earth, the relics of her euphoria register as intermittent aftershocks. The dawn of what you had just done begins to settle and almost instinctively, you revert to your teasing.

"How nice of you to finally join us," you are still hovering above her, her long neck craning to look at you.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who squeaks when she cums."

The dampness between your legs is a reminder. "You're gonna learn to take just as much as you give sooner or later," You don't miss the hint of a promise thinly veneered along that whisper. Choosing to ignore the fluttering in the pit of my stomach at the sound of it alone, you climb off of her and back to your space on the bed.

"What's its name?" Hazel asks, peering into the darkness to bring your stuffed frog back into your arms. "You strike me as someone who gives their stuffed toys names."

You're still out of breathe as you reply, "Texas,"

She cracks a smile at that. Before you can finally drift off, a hand slips across your hip, trailing over your torso before brushing over your breast and staying there. "I'm gonna buy you one...I wanna watch you hump it like you just did my leg okay?"

All you're able to do is nod.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fluff #bottoms x reader #bottoms fanfic #bottoms movie

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plorpl · 8 months

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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.

Way, way too much info under the break!!

The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:

WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO

You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.

The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.

One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.

And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.

More insane top screen screenshots without context:

Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:

I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.

That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:

And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:

It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.

Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:

#house md #hate crimes md #ds game #house md ds

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iluvmattsbeard · 1 month

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kiss me (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: none!

preview: you were the odd one out from the group. nobody really paid attention to you and you were aware you weren't a sight for sore eyes. never anybody's choice. little did you know someone saw something in you.

a/n: this imagine is sort of based off 'she's all that', not entirely, but that's where I got inspo to write this! listen to the song for the full effect lmao. enjoy!

"alright people! prom is coming up! make sure to purchase your tickets in the auditorium if you're planning to come! tickets at its lowest price!" you hear over the inner come. you didn't even bat an eye at the announcement. you never understood the fascination in prom. the fancy dresses, the excitement of being prom queen, and etc. it was not your scene.

your thoughts were interrupted by someone shaking you. "y/n! are you excited? our last prom!" Nick says excitedly still shaking you. you look at him with a still face. "totally." you respond sarcastically. you watch him frown as he responds, "oh come on y/n. why are you being sarcastic?" you sigh, "you know this isn't my type of thing." you respond. "you got that right." Chris blurts out. you weren't even fazed by it. Nick shoots him a sharp glare, "don't be rude."

"no he's right Nick, I am not someone who should be at prom." you say. all Nick does is roll his eyes, "everyone is welcomed at prom. can you at least think about it?" he says with a small pout.

you let out a small laugh, "maybe. now stop bugging me about it." all he does is nod and smile. the bell rings initiating that lunch is now over.

Matt's POV

i was sat at the dinner table, right next to Chris, as we ate our food in silence. our parents were out doing something so we ended up getting raising cane's. Nick and Chris started bickering when Chris asked him for some fries. "you can't have any since you were being rude earlier." Nick sternly says, pulling his fries closer to him. "dude she said it herself she doesn't belong at prom." Chris replies trying to reach for his fries. “how can you act like that? y/n has feelings you know.” i said as both of them look at me. “you care why?” Chris asks with an eyebrow raised. “because Nick doesn’t owe you any fries.” i reply. Nick looks at Chris with a face as he goes “ha ha”. I had to agree with Nick on this one. Chris’ reply to what y/n said earlier was uncalled for. she didn't need his opinion.

i don't get how she doesn't think she belongs at the event. I always overheard her conversations with Nick and Madi. she always thought of herself as the odd one out. I never thought that. so what if she didn't look like every other girl? to me, I thought she was beautiful in her own unique way. i'd be teased if anybody found out I thought that. but it was nothing but the truth. I couldn't tell her that. I knew she was just too focused with school to even care what I had to say anyways.

End of Matt's POV

*time skips to the week before prom*

it was a Friday evening. you were at Nick's house sitting on his bed, right next to Madi, who was painting her toe nails. "have you given any thought about prom?" Nick says as he's holding his suit and tie against his body in front of the mirror. you let out a groan, "no nick. what is so exciting about it?" you respond. Madi and Nick look at each other then back at you, "maybe because this is the last time you'll have the opportunity to dress up and kill it on the dance floor." Nick says doing a little dance. you shake your head letting out a small laugh. "yeah I don't know about that one." you say, “i think prom is just an excuse for a guy to get into a girl’s pants.” you continue. “if you hang with the right people, like me and Madi, you will avoid that.” Nick says.

you see Madi stand up with her toes pointed up. you and Nick laugh at the scene. "what? I don't want to ruin the paint!" she says with a giggle. you see her reach down to her bag as she pulls out three tickets. "don't tell me the third one is for me." you say, shaking your head slowly.

all Madi does is smile waving it in front of her, looking at Nick, then the both of them looking at you, "you know it is!" they say in sync. you cover your face with your hands shaking your head. you felt defeated. Nick sits right next to you speaking, "it will be fun trust me! you have to take advantage of every moment." "I don't know how to dance, I don't do makeup, and I have nothing to wear." you exclaim.

"don't worry y/n. I got you I promise!" Madi says with the biggest smile on her face. you let out a sigh. what did you get yourself into? Nick gets up doing another little dance, "y/n is going to prom! y/n is going to prom!" he says in a sing song voice as Madi joins along.

Matt's POV

as I was walking down the hall, I over hear Nick and Madi practically singing over and over again. I got closer to Nick's bedroom door as I hear them say, "y/n is going to prom!" I laugh quietly at the chants. they actually convinced her. i'm glad they did. now i wont be the only one not enjoying the experience since Chris is dragging me along. maybe y/n and I will bond over the dreadful experience.

my thought was interrupted by the door opening. my eyes land on y/n. "oh hi Matt." she says with a soft smile. I couldn't help but smile back. I analyzed her face. she had prominent freckles I had never seen before. maybe because I haven't really paid attention. I laugh softly to myself noticing how big her glasses were against her face. they were slightly slipping a bit from the bridge of her nose.

"what's so funny?" she says, raising an eyebrow. I kept a smile, pushing her glasses back up delicately, “nothing.” i say as I turn around to walk away.

as I laid down in bed, closing my eyes, all that popped into my head was her face. the freckles, the soft smile, and the glasses. how could she not realize I notice her? she always talked about how she could never be a first choice. but to me? in a crowd of people I would look at her first. even though I just pointed out that she had freckles, i've never seen, I knew little things she did. like when she laughs she covers her face, when she drinks a beverage she sticks out her pinky finger, and when she's stuck on something she scratches her head a little from frustration. I open my eyes staring at the dark ceiling, smiling at the thought of her. I let out a small sigh. if only she knew.

End of Matt's POV

it was the day before prom. after school, you, Nick, and Madi end up at a little boutique looking for the perfect dress for you. you looked around feeling hopeless. everything looked too much for your liking. "how about this one?" Madi says holding up a pink sparkly long dress with off the shoulder sleeves. you shake your head indicating a 'no'. pink was not your ideal color. you felt like it was too bold.

Nick then walks over with a handful of dresses. "oh my goodness." you spoke, "Nick that is a lot." all he does is smile shaking his head, "come on! try these on!" he says. you hesitate for a bit as you grab the dresses from his hands, walking into the dressing room.

after a few dresses, you were still feeling hopeless. "this isn't working guys." Madi and Nick look at you wearing a green dress with a scrunch on their faces. "yeah no definitely not that one." Nick says. you sit down looking around. your eyes catch a beautiful simple white dress. you get up and walk over to it. "I mean hey. simple is timeless." Madi says smiling. "try it on!" she continues. you nod your head as you walk back into the dressing room. you slip into the dress looking in the mirror. you look up and down at yourself with a smile. Madi was right. simple is timeless. you walk out the dressing room as Nick and Madi cover their mouths in sync. "you are definitely wearing that dress!" Madi squeals in excitement. "definitely! you look beautiful in it y/n." Nick says pretending to sniffle, which caused all three of you to laugh.

Y/n's POV

today was the day. the day I've been dreading. prom night. I stand in front of the white dress I picked out slowly running my hand down it. I let out a small breath as I shake off my nerves. "alright lets do this." I say looking at Madi and Nick who were behind me.

Madi was already done getting ready, so was Nick. Madi was in this beautiful purple corset dress and Nick was wearing a suit with his tie matching the shade of purple of Madi's dress. she sits me down quickly, taking off my glasses, and putting my hair up to get it out of my face. “trust me. you will look like a work of art.” she says smiling at me. me and Nick just laugh. she starts doing my makeup. i've never done my makeup before. I told her I wanted it as simple as possible. which she did.

she hands me a hand held mirror as I look into it. my eyes widen at myself. "Madi... you actually made me look... pretty." I say quietly. she giggles, "more like gorgeous!" she says. Nick then pretends to sniffle, "oh my goodness. our baby girl is growing up so fast." he says. me and Madi laugh at his choice of words. "thank you so much Madi." I stand up hugging her. "don't thank me! it’s literally just your face that’s perfection." she says grabbing my dress, "now, put it on!" she says with a smile clapping her hands excitedly.

i laugh at her actions and grab the dress. I go into the bathroom to change.

End of Y/n's POV

you finally were ready for the night you never expected to attend. you look at yourself one final time in the mirror smiling. "here we go." you whisper to yourself before picking up your heels.

downstairs, Matt and Chris were struggling to do their ties. Nick gets downstairs and sees them. "i'll help with that." he says walking up to the boys. "thank you." Matt and Chris say in unison. "are we all ready to go?" Chris says looking around. Madi steps down the stairs clearing her throat. "where's y/n?" Chris says.

"she will be down in a second. but first! I would like to say, this is my favorite masterpiece yet!" Madi exclaims smiling. "okay well get her down here." Chris says with an eyebrow raised. Madi looks up the stairs and yells out, "oh y/n! get your cute butt down here!" everyone laughs as Madi steps down completely from the stair case. steps now can be heard going down slowly. Chris stares with his jaw dropped. Matt looks up as he freezes in his place with his mouth agape.

Matt's POV

as I looked up at the stairs and see her, all I could do was stay still taking in a gulp. she was beautiful. she lets a small smile appear on her face. i couldn't take my eyes off of her.

End of Matt's POV

as you step down slowly, you stumble a bit at the end of the stairs as Madi quickly holds on to your hand. "still learning to walk in these." you let out a nervous laugh. Chris repeats his question, "how?!" Nick rolls his eyes, "don't ask stupid questions."

everyone, except you and Matt, step outside preparing to leave. you had your glasses in your hand, placing them down on the counter. Matt rubs the back of his neck slightly, "uh hey." you hear him say. "hi Matt.” you say turning around looking at him up and down, “you look really good." you say smiling. "thank you. you look- uh-good too." he stutters out a bit. you let out a small laugh as you thank him. "lets go!" Nick shouts.

*time skips to the prom*

you all walk inside as you look around at everyone. there was loud music blasting and you see couples dancing up against each other. you cringe at the sight. Chris walks off meeting his buddies. Madi and Nick grab your hands pulling you onto the dance floor. you shake your head quickly as they both laugh. "let's dance the night away!" Madi screams out. you kind of just stood there not knowing what to do. but you swayed a little to the music. Nick was going all out making you laugh. "okay Nick! work it!" Madi shouts smiling.

“wait wait wait!” Nick stops in his place a little breathless. “let’s go get our photos taken before we look like a mess from all of this dancing.” he says. you and Madi nod walking with Nick towards the photographer waiting in line. you were still feeling anxious about what could happen tonight. you didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

you catch a glimpse at the photographer. it was your math teacher, ms. rose. as you guys were next you couldn’t help but notice her face. “y/n? is that you?” ms. rose says smiling. you nod smiling back, “hello ms. rose.” “i’m glad you made it!” she says looking around. “did you bring a date?” she asks excitedly. you shake your head quickly, “absolutely not.” all she does is laugh and prepares to take a picture. “alright pose!” she exclaims. i was in the middle of Madi and Nick, all of us smiling for the camera. “beautiful!” ms. rose says as she snaps the picture.

Matt grabs a drink looking around. his eyes locks on you taking a sip from his drink. he watches as you smile for the picture. he smiles admiringly. he couldn’t help but stare at you.

as time passes by you decided to step off the dance floor. you were feeling a bit overwhelmed. especially because you couldn't shake off the thought of how stupid you look trying to dance. you grab a water as you step outside. as you're walking around for a bit you notice Matt sitting in the outside courtyard. you decided to go keep him company. you sit next to him as he looks at you. "what's on your mind?" you say looking up at the moonlit sky. "not much. what are you doing out here?" he asks still looking at you. "I was feeling overwhelmed. which I feel bad because I know Madi and Nick have been waiting for this night and I just left." you respond. “well how about you? you can't just think about what they want." Matt says trying to read your face. "well, I didn't want to come in the first place." you laugh softly, "I feel stupid on the dance floor." you finish speaking. “you weren’t bad.” he says, “but it did look a little forced.” he says causing you both to laugh.

still looking at the sky, Matt suddenly stands up, stepping in front of you, holding his hand out. you look up at him taken a back. "what are you doing?" you ask softly. "I want to make this experience memorable for you." he says with his heart beating fast. you gulp as you take his hand gently. you stand up holding his hand as he pulls you into a slow dance position. your arms wrapped around his neck, while his hands rest on your hips. "i-i don't know how to do this." you say nervously, avoiding eye contact. "don't worry. just follow my steps." he says reassuringly with a smile. you nod as you look at your guys' feet. you accidentally step on him. "oh- i'm sorry." you say biting your lip softly.

"maybe you should look up at me. it'll distract you from your feet." he whispers. you do as he says. you look up up at him already looking down at you. you look into his eyes having your throat swallow. your heart was pounding. "hi" he whispers. you felt the nerves go away from the sound of his voice. "hey" you whisper back. it was quiet for a bit as you both sway from the faded music coming from the gym. you notice him analyze your face as you do the same at him. you never really looked at Matt in the way you were feeling in this very moment. your chests nearly touching, his hands caressing your hips softly, and the eye contact. it was making your stomach flutter.

"you know how you said you don't feel like you belong here?" he whispers. you nod waiting for what he has to say next. "well i'm glad you're here." he says not breaking eye contact. the light from the moon shines on his face.

"really?" you whisper. "yes really y/n." he pulls away a bit, "I'm always happy when you're around. even if you don't notice." he says. you couldn't hide your smile. this whole time you felt like nobody's choice. when this whole time the person who wanted you the most was right in front of you. "can I kiss you?" he says softly.

"kiss me." you whisper back. he grabs you by your face gently, pulling you into a soft deep kiss. you felt yourself melt under his touch making you both lean back, having him dip you slightly, still attached by the lips. you couldn't believe this was happening.

when you both finally pull away, you both look at each other breathless, shortly laughing after. "let's head back inside?" you ask smiling. "one second" he answers putting his hand in his pocket, taking out your glasses. you look at them with confusion. he steps closer to you placing them on your face gently, taking a step back smiling. "perfect." he says. you laugh at his actions and grab his hand walking back inside to the loud music with your mind now replaying the perfect moment that just had happened outside.

you and Matt head over to the dance floor once the song “Kiss Me” starts playing hand in hand as you repeat what happened outside. “what a perfect song.” Matt says with a soft laugh. “well you have no choice but to listen to the song.” you say as the song says ‘so kiss me’. he smiles pulling you in closer kissing you with his soft lips.

“i thought you didn’t have a date?” you hear a familiar voice shout out. you both pull away as you look at your math teacher noticing a smile on her face with her arms crossed. “now she does!” Matt shouts back happily.

a/n: this took me a while to write but somehow seems so short lmao. I loved writing this! I hope you enjoyed reading. likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated! follow for more imagines!

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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this-doesnt-endd · 2 years

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Okay so i bought the novelization book of back to the future and its been pretty neat so far not everything is the same as the movie obviously but there is some things that are different and I don't understand why. Cause im assuming it was written either in tandem or after the movie but also how it's going it feels like its based off a script right before the final script

#its interesting tho i like it #but like his house has stairs which means its two levels which its not #and they threw me off the most out of anything so far which like okay odd thing to focus on but continue i guess #also the destruction of the walkmans like god damn #also marty comes off as more or so rude than like rebellious to me at least #im only like two chapters in so not much has happened #but when we do get to the point where marty is talking to doc and we get the lines doc i got a girl is she pretty shes beautiful #if thats not in there booooo i find it very sweet #cause like you can tell right off the bat he very much loves jennifer and in the very begining of the book its like he loves jennifer #but shes not that important to him but music is #like wtf #it seems very much so the eric stoltz version of marty #which makes me wonder like what version of the script is this #cause they always wanted mjf but when they couldt get him and cast eric did the script stay the same #and if it did its intersting to read how it wouldve vaugely been played by mjf originally #or did they tweak it a bit or change it when eric was cast cause it seems to fit him more and the approach he took to the charachter #i want to know what script version this is based on and like how far removed or how close it is to the final version #cause obvi the edit of the movie makes the movie but you cant cut out major beats and have it stay the same #anyways i need to find robert zemeckis cause i want to hear all about the production of bttf #cause i havent fixed my dvd player so i cant play the behinds the scenes on the dvd yet

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neoplatinum · 2 months

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opposing worlds | kim chaewon

summary: rooming with kim chaewon was a terribly bad (good) decision.

pairing: roommate!chaewon x roommate!reader

themes: enemies (?) to lovers, college au, fluff, very minor angst, chaewon is a micromanager!, implied sexual content, yunjin!

wc: 3.0k

even though its below freezing outside, with a red nose along with frozen ears, you refuse to enter your apartment. fearing the demon that you live with, her legal name being kim chaewon.

a major pain in your ass is how you would describe living with her. you would rather step on legos than to live with her, but with limited on-campus housing you have to deal the cards that you've been dealt.

so you pace outside, on the welcome mat, biting your nails. just getting the courage to walk back into your apartment. one that turns into a war zone whenever chaewon's being a stickler for rules and regulations (ones that she's made for the apartment). you finally stop pacing when you feel the confidence back in your body.

"i'm not letting her dictate what i can and cant do." you say to yourself quietly, this was ridiculous. not being able to enter a space that you pay for just because chaewon was a micromanager pissed you off more than you would like to admit.

as soon as you enter the apartment, you're immediately hit with the silence of the apartment. it's odd, and you can feel a pair of eyes staring at your back. you pay it no mind as you slip off your shoes. you turn to the sight of chaewon with her arms crossed, standing in that familiar stance of authority. letting out a heavy breath, you know, watch her folded arms, tense jaw, and the most telling sign: her foot tapping rhythmically. so you walk towards her, like a child ready for scolding.

"what's it going to be tonight, chaewon? cleanliness, manners, etiquette, or are you going to comment about my clothes?" you explain, frustrated. It seems you can never get things right around miss perfect.

"cleanliness!" she exclaims, pointing at the many dishes piling up in the sink. you grimace at the sight, just remembering it was your turn to do the dishes. "look at our chore list! it's your week!" she continues point at the very detailed chore poster, your name in big bold red letters.

you groan and grab some gloves, preparing for the long lecture about cleanliness and maintaining a proper space. while you are busy washing all the bowls in the sink and placing them on a drying rack, chaewon begins listing off reasons to always maintain a clean apartment—a lecture you have heard far too often.

"enough, chaewon! i am not five, and i don't need to be lectured on why I need to wash the dishes for the 50th time!" you shout at her, cutting her off from her outburst. she stops, and you can see her lips waver, and her hands are balled into fists.

"then stop acting like a five-year-old!" she shouts back at you, stomping to her room and slamming the door. you wince at the sound, feeling a little guilty for yelling at her, she just really set you off tonight.

so you stand in the kitchen all alone with the sound of running water comforting you. feeling the weight of your words, you feel bad that she has to reprimand you for things you should figure out on your own. with a final dish on the rack, you sulk back into your room, thinking of ways to apologize to your roommate.

"chaewon?" you wake up early, feeling guilty that you yelled at her. even though you were tired of the lectures, you knew it was wrong to yell at the girl. you tried making a breakfast that she would like. so with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of her favorite green tea, you carry the tray towards her room and knock on her door.

"what." her voice is flat and monotone. you shrink into yourself before speaking again.

"i made you breakfast...listen i'm sorry about yelling at you. i shouldn't have and i let my emotions get the best of me. could you open the door?" you explain, feeling awful just remembering her face when you yelled at her.

the door opens slowly and behind the door is an upset chaewon with puffy eyes and a bunch of tissues in hand. you slowly walk in and place the tray on her desk. she's busy with her schoolwork it seems, but it also looks like she's been busy crying with the pile of tissues in her waste basket.

it's weird being in her room ever since you found out how high-strung she was. so you have always steered clear of her room, this is the first time you've been inside. noticing how decorated the room is, it's cute, oddly. it's what you expect of chaewon's room, clean and proper. with a splash of green everywhere, that must be her favorite color.

she stares at the bowl of oatmeal you made her, eyeing it wearily. you groan at her.

"i didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking." you comment quietly. she nods and sits down in her chair to eat it. you wait patiently, not really sure what to do. maybe waiting for feedback at this point. she just nods and you finally feel your shoulders release tension.

"phew." you say out loud.

"thank you for breakfast, i'll stop lecturing you so much." she says quietly. you nod, a little shocked at how dismissive she is. walking out of her room, you still feel a bit awful, maybe you should invite her out somewhere.

before you can begin to ask her, chaewon is already closing her door behind her. you're just grateful she accepted the peace offering.

she doesn't comment on your poor behavior in the next couple of weeks, you just feel inclined to do the chores that have been laid out. you don't hear from her for a while, feeling her absence in the apartment.

some days, when you're past boredom, eyes glued to the ceiling, and daydreaming of becoming rich. you think about chaewon and why she's so persistent about cleanliness. you always thought it was a bit extreme, but you never came back to a messy apartment. so you could appreciate that, you just hope she goes back to her own noisy self.

it's become strangely quiet in the apartment without chaewon's constant annoyance towards you. whenever you step outside in the living room in hopes of seeing chaewon, she's never there. your mood is considerably worse without a person to argue with.

you purposely leave out clothes on the floor for her to scold you, but she never comments on it. just stares at it and walks into her room. so with a dejected face, you pick up your own clothes. you hate to admit that you missing your nagging roommate.

"is that chaewon?" your friend shouts into your ear. saturday night out, and instead of staying inside with the awkward tension with chaewon, you're out here to party your anxiety away.

the thing that irks you tonight is that this house party is definitely a fire hazard—way exceeding the maximum number of occupants. you remember chaewon telling you to never stay in a place that breaks the maximum occupants.

you turn your head up at the question, looking around and you finally spot your roommate across the room. all you can conclude is chaewon is stupid drunk—dancing like her life depended on it. people all around her are egging her on, and chaewon breaks out the robot, making you laugh.

then some guy starts getting near her to dance with her, you frown at the sight. setting down your cup as you make your way to the other side of the room.

"woah buddy, back up." you put a hand between the dude and chaewon, he flips you off before walking away. you are about to chase after him to give him a piece of your mind, but then you remember chaewon in front of you. blearly eyes chaewon, with her stumbling and drunk laughter filling your senses. she refocuses her eyes, and they land on you, eyeing your outfit.

"what are you doing here?" she asks in a slurred tone, her finger wagging in your face.

"i could ask you the same thing." you raise your eyebrows, confused by the sight of miss perfect student chaewon partying on a sunday night. she scoffs at you.

"don't tell me what to do." she crosses her arms as best as she can, definitely feeling the drunkness.

"don't tell me what to do." you mock her tone, laughing at her when she gets mad at you. she starts to walk away, but you grab her arm. "hey, let's go home. it's late."

"no! let me go." she stomps her foot like a child.

"alright, let's do this the hard way." you say and and hoist her up, carrying her out the stuffed house.

"let me down! i'm not done partying." she shouts. you pay her no mind as she tries pushing you away. you laugh because she really isn't trying that hard.

so you take her back home, walking down frat row until you reach your apartments. by then she's fallen asleep, arms wrapped around your neck and snoring lightly. it's cute seeing chaewon so relaxed, you're glad you found her, it's been weird being at home without her. you hope whatever is happening between you two just returns back to normal.

you fumble around with the key to your apartment, and with a final push you walk into her room. unwrapping her arms from your neck, as you set her down in her bed. you admire the way chaewon looks in makeup, gorgeous and very serene.

but you also know that chaewon hates going to sleep with her makeup on, so you rummage through her makeup drawer, finding makeup wipes for her. you take the time to gently wipe all the makeup off, finding it peaceful and fulfilling to do so.

she fusses a bit when you wipe too hard. you pull back and let her calm down, before wiping the rest of it off. throwing the used wipes in her waste basket. when you turn around, you see her knocked out cold, laying like a starfish on her green comforter.

you smile at the sight and then roll her under her comforter, tucking her in. with light footsteps, you close her door, and return back to your own room. the smile never leaves your face.

it's been about a week since the party, chaewon was embarrassed that you had brought her home. so she bought you coffee and a muffin nearly every morning.

she lets you explain that night from your point of view, her face goes red at the embarrassing parts. you purposely leave out the part where that guy was trying to dance with her. for some reason, you feel upset when you talk about it, maybe he just looked too creepy.

she dissapears into her room soon after, something along the lines of, "i need to process all this."

later that night, you're writing on your laptop when you hear chaewon's door open. the sight of her in a nice form fitting dress and her hair done up, your jaw drops and you jump to your feet.

"where are you going?" you ask. she's checking her purse for something. she looks up at you confused.

"a party?" she states like it's so obvious. your body is jittery at the idea. you think quickly, she's not going out by herself. what if she gets kidnapped?

"wait, let me go with you." you say as you rush into your room to get ready, no way you're letting her go to that party alone. you need to fend off the creepy men for her.

"why are you going?" she asks from outside the doorway. a little confused at the sight of you throwing clothes everywhere. she even steps inside to pick up the clothes now littered all over the floor.

"just cause." you say and grab your outfit. rushing into your bathroom to change. within a few minutes you walk out ready to accompany chaewon.

she's on her phone waiting for you, and you examine her outfit. you rummage through the closet, looking for a nice warm jacket. slipping it over her shoulders as you both set out for the night. you miss how chaewon's cheeks warm at the gesture.

it has started becoming a regular habit: if you can't attend the party with chaewon, no matter how late or wasted she is, you always pick her up from the party. if she was too tired or drunk, you would help tuck her into bed.

oftentimes, you even had to help her puke her guts out from drinking too much. but that was never a pretty sight, so you try and get her to puke her guts out before she enters the apartment.

one night, she ends up just crawling into your bed. when you fall asleep, you feel her body warmth against your body. she makes herself comfortable under the blanket. wrapping her arms around your torso as she lays against your pillow.

you move yourself further off the edge of the bed as she scoots closer. she mumbles something about how warm her bed is, and honestly, even with her taking up your personal space, you don't mind.

it has somehow blended into a habit to sleep together every night when she came in the next night, and without a word, slipped under the comforter again. you let her, too scared of saying anything in case it scared her away. it's become a nightly thing to just sleep in the same bed together...even when she's not drunk.

"you two do what?" yunjin is staring at you with her food half chewed.

"dont talk with food in your mouth, you're going to catch flies." you comment.

"oh great, now you sound like chaewon too." yunjin bites her food. you decided to contact yunjin in hopes of figuring out what to do with this new "development" with chaewon. the habit of her sleeping in your bed with you. sometimes you wake up and catch chaewon staring at you.

"so you two sleep together in the same bed, brush your teeth together, go about your morning and nightly routine together, and even cuddle...platonically." yunjin questions you, but the sarcasm is dripping as she says it.

"yes." you answer.

yunjin takes a deep breath before starting up again, she didn't think you were so dense. "dude, chaewon is into you."

"no she's not, just two months ago we were at each other throats. don't you remember?" you ask.

"of course i remember, oh my GOD, is this my real life enemies to lovers slow burn 10k words fic in real life?" yunjin says to herself towards the end.

"you seriously have got to get off the internet." you cross your arms staring at the girl. "you aren't helping, by the way."

"help with what?" she asks, a little confused.

"what do i do?" you ask her. ever since the new habit of chaewon and yours, you've been going through your days all confused, always thinking about chaewon.

"you either grow a pair and confess you want to be more than 'sleep buddies' or you wuss out and just let her continue doing this." she says plainly.

you disregard her comment, "forget what i said." you say. yunjin just shrugs and continues eating her meal, letting you sit with your own thoughts.

so you do wuss out like an absolute coward. just letting the unspoken words take over you and chaewon's sleeping arrangements. you let her continue to invade your space, moving her stuff into your room. her decorations, her clothes in your drawers, and just recently she moved her desk into your room, placing it just next to your desk.

you were shocked at the arrangement but couldn't find the confidence to comment on it. it's weird; now you two practically exist in each other's space all the time; just two months ago, you were cursing the world for giving you chaewon as a roommate. now you can't imagine going to sleep without seeing her and her hair roller every night.

sleeping together turns into unspoken dates: going to the movies together, going bowling, getting groceries together, and even going to high-end restaurants together.

it's like you're dating unofficially. those were the exact words your friend told you when he came over to visit. when you let him into your room to show off your movie posters, he immediately thought you had a girlfriend, you had to explain to him how it was just chaewon.

he looked at you like you grew a third eye, confused at how chaewon went from most annoying person in the world, to someone who sleeps in your bed every night. you try not to let those words mean so much, but secretly you're hoping you can officially date her.

one night, you go out clubbing with chaewon; she looks gorgeous in her tight dress and her hair laid out, showing off her dancing to you. you recently found out thar chaewon was part of the dance team, often visiting her showcases. now you enjoy just watching her let loose, like a free soul, not bounded by her own rules. its beautiful to see.

by the third song of you two circling each other on the dance floor, you kiss her. pulling her into your embrace, hands reaching her back and pushing her closer to you. she welcomes the kiss and lets you pull her closer. hands running up your hair, tugging lightly.

you make out with her against the club wall, and drag each other home with urgency. laughing loudly in the streets like teenagers in love.

"be mine." she breathes into your ears that night.

"only if you're mine too." you kiss her shoulder, and she nods.

yunjin visits you two the next day, screaming at the sight of you two in your bed and covering her eyes immediately. you wake up horrified with chaewon clinging onto you as yunjin screams for the whole apartment complex to hear. she slams the door closed and runs out of the apartment. you and chaewon both look at each other before laughing loudly.

even though yunjin avoids both you and chaewon for the next two weeks, you don't feel an ounce of regret. you can honestly say that rooming with chaewon was the best decision of your life.

a/n: i feel like chaewon fits enemies to lovers really well but maybe that's just me. didn't really proofread this one but anyways. posting this piece first because it was decided by the people! i hope it was worth the wait! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#chaewon #kim chaewon #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x you #chaewon x reader #chaewon x you #kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim chaewon #kpop imagines #huh yunjin #neoplatinum

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