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can we be friends? you seem to have a lot of online friends/moots
Well I’d need to get to know you first, for us to be friends ^^ and yes I do have a lot of moots but not really many I’m actually close with ^^;;;
Idk I suck at holding a conversation despite me having a talent of over sharing and rambling.. ^^;;
#uwu.ask#anon#soz I sound awkward I didn’t really know how to respond to this#however ty for the ask anon n pls take care n hope you have a lovely day/night~<3
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I finally uploaded that uncle joey uncle jesse full house fic, it has some filthy language so soz for that
The day had taken a hard turn into the bizarre. That morning they had helped Danny save his show with an elephant costume and a banjo, they taught Dj and Stephanie a lesson about the importance of recycling (usual Tanner Family stuff). But the part where Jesse had invited Joey out to a bar after it to ‘relax’, just have some quality man time? And how they’d had one too many drinks, become too comfortable and shared a ‘funny’ drunk kiss in the parking lot? That was not normal Tanner. This was bizarr-o world where Jesse Tanner now had him pressed up against a hotel door with Joey’s tongue down his throat. He reaches down and slides Joey’s key card out of his jeans pocket, fumbling to hit it against the sensor without having to break skin contact.
The card beeps and Joey realises being pinned against the hotel door is the worst place to be. The door pops open and Joey stumbles hard, knocking a standing lamp to the fuzzy motel carpet. They both give it a brief giggle before Jesse is on Joey’s neck again, wet frantic lips searching everywhere. There’s a tiny patch of stubble in the dip of Joey’s jaw and neck and Jesse sees it as art, obsesses over it with his teeth and tongue. Joey feels like there’s too much air in his head, like Pop Eye on Spinach with Olive’s hands riding up his shirt.
Joey realises he can’t do much to reciprocate from this position, standing and pawing at Jesse like an awkward virgin. He wasn’t a virgin, well, not with women. It shouldn’t be too different, right? I mean, Jesse is less soft than most girls Joey’s been lucky enough to bring home, more hard angles and hair gel than soft curves and giggles. Or maybe Jesse did giggle. Fuck, Jesse is there in front of him, touching him and Joey’s wasting time trying to rewrite the birds and the bees. It’s San Francisco. They’re drunk. They are in a shitty motel room. Joey’s pretty sure the gay sex just happens holistically now.
Still, he realises it might be a little more romantic with a bed involved and he backs Jesse to the bed with him with three awkward steps, grabbing his hand pulling him down with his weight. They knock heads when they land and the springs poke into Joey’s back but it’s intimately clumsy and they chuckle softly as they kiss, nipping lips and bumping noses together.
Part of Joey wishes he were sober for the first time, most likely the only time this would happen. But this was also so impulsive and hazy and wonderful, slightly fantastical. Jesse is straddling him, shirt and vest hanging open, sweating and panting. His pupils are blown and the neon lights filtering in through the window shine in them, make him look like a wild thing. Joey didn’t study anything fancy in college but Jesse looks like pure art straddling him and Joey needs to touch. He runs his wide hands up Jesse’s taught stomach, runs his thumbs idly through his happy trail as he creeps up. He feels each dip and edge of Jesse’s abdomen, traces a finger between his pectorals and then splays his hands out. Nipples. Okay, this is familiar sex territory. A little more flat, but he knows roughly what to do. He scrapes his nail lightly across Jesse’s left nipple, saves the little gasp Jesse lets out to memory, then rolls the tiny nub between his forefinger and thumb. Jesse shudders, rocks forward, and Joey short circuits at the friction. God, he could see how much Jesse loved the performance, loved the attention and it was making him rock hard. Every time Jesse drops his head back and groans Joey’s heart skips a beat, and he’s so caught up in how perfect he feels that he has to ask Jesse to repeat himself when he whispers hotly in his ear. “I said,” Jesse panted, “Have you ever done this before? Do you know what to do?”
So maybe the sex ed memories were more important than he thought. He didn’t know what to do. Not really. Like he knew what went where, but what he didn’t know was how to not to make it hurt for Jesse. How he should get someone ready. He wasn’t sure who was meant to take who, but he was getting a stronger and stronger idea that Jesse was a bit of a taker and Joey could count his gay experiences on one hand (and uncomfortable game of spin the bottle in college which ended in a very tight lipped kiss from a very awkward Danny). What was expected of him here? Were there social faux pas to gay sex? Would Jesse be offended if Joey asked him to use protection? Did either of them even have protection?
Apparently Jesse notices him spiralling into panic. He lifts one hand to Joey’s face, refocuses him, trace reassuring lines along his cheekbone.
“Cool the jets, scaredy cat. I aint judging. I just wanted to know how much to show you.”
Joey breathes out a sigh of relief. Then a low groan as Jesse grinds out long and hard against his groin. He centers his hands on Jesse’s hips and looks up into his eyes, lets himself be vulnerable. Jesse is his best friend. More than that now. And the last thing he wants to do is hurt this beautiful man.
“How do I… How do I make this not hurt for you?” Joey lets out earnestly, quietly and a hot shiver runs up from the base of Jesse’s spine. He lets out a small, hot whine and chuckles before responding.
“You big… sweet idiot. Of course that’s the part that’s scaring you. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you stranded here.” Jesse slips off Joey’s lap, making his panic high jump for a moment until Jesse hits him with a look that he’s pretty sure could impregnate. Jesse shrugs the rest of his shirt off and walks over to his overnight bag resting on the nightstand. He pulls out a small travel bottle of lube and a condom in one hand, and starts undoing his pants with the other.
“Just make sure to listen and I’ll show you the rest.”
Joey can barely mutter out a have mercy before Jesse is beside him on the bed in his underwear, sliding Joey’s pants off him. Joey takes the opportunity to reach over, grabbing an experimental handful of Jesse’s firm ass and getting a moan and smile in response. Hint taken. He slides a hand in under the material and traces his fingers down the cleft, watching Jesse’s face like a hawk for feedback. Before his fingers can explore any further Jesse stops him gently, leads Joey’s hand away and kisses his knuckles while he strips himself fully bare. He’s confused but he trusts Jesse, watches him as he straddles Joey’s thighs once again, popping the lube cap and dribbling a generous amount on two of his fingers. It drops onto Joey’s stomach and its surprisingly cold but it doesn’t seem to bother his counterpart, who reaches between his own legs and starts easing a finger in and out of his entrance. Jesse was a performer in every sense of the word and for once Joey was just letting himself be the audience, let himself learn and also become painfully erect. He starts to frantically unbutton his shirt, realising he’s still in a shirt and socks like mc’scrooge. He’s down to socks when Jesse wraps a hand around Joey’s cock and have goddamn fucking mercy does it feel good. He suddenly understands the catchphrase all too well as he hangs on by a thread, Jesse’s hand pumping his cock in slow, lax movements just to make sure he was as hard as he could be. “God, Jess, I need something…. I need to be inside you or on you or-“
Jesse shushes him and rolls a condom down Joey’s shaft, positions himself and then pushes the first few inches inside him. He hisses and Joey’s all panic city again. “Jess, are you okay? Did I hurt you I’m so sorry, we can stop-“ “Just gimme a minute, knucklehead” The insult isn’t meant, he’s smiling too softly through it and then he pushes down again and his eyes roll back in his skull. Fireworks go off behind Joey’s eyes and he can’t resist sinking in a little, grabs Jesse’s hips so tight he’s worried he might bruise. He still lets Jesse pick the pace, though, and before long they’re rocking into each other harder and wetter and louder. He’s heard Jesse sing but he’s never heard him make sounds like this. Even Joey can’t resist rambling, he always rambles in social situations and now he’s rambling every single dirty thought he has about Jesse into his ear. Jesse’s breaking new vocal ground, hitting new notes and getting so tight and Joey barely has time to warn him before he breaks like a dam, hears his own voice break as he comes inside his best friend in the whole world. Only a moment or two passes before Jesse lets out a cry, sticks their stomachs together with wet cum and goes soft in Joey’s hands.
They just hold each other for a second before collapsing in a heap on the cheap hotel mattress. Joey strokes Jesse’s hair and stares at the ceiling, scared to speak in case he ends the moment. Jesse is the one who breaks the silence. “Wow. Was that really your first time?”
Joey pauses, “Yeah. Was it really that not-mediocre?”
“Let’s just say,” Jesse sighs out “Have Mercy”
They chuckle together softly. Joey reaches beneath himself to pull out the hotel blanket and cover both of them. He hesitates for a moment before placing a kiss on the top of Jesse’s head. It’s too romantic, it has the potential to ruin everything but he might never get the chance again.
“Well if it was that good the first time,” Jesse clears his throat, speaks without meeting Joey’s eyes, “Imagine how good we’ll be at it next time”
It takes Joey’s brain a few moments to process, and then he stutters out;
“Next time?”
“If you’ll have me.” Joey wraps a possessive arm around Jesse’s shoulders, lets himself look into those hazy brown eyes.
“I’ll always have you.”
#full house#joey#jesse tanner#uncle joey uncle jesse#hi this is a very lonely hill to die on but its very comfortable#fanfic
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Wait for Me (Part One)
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: You and Tom become close friends, but you start to fall in love with him.
Warnings: Swearing bc it’s me, you WILL be dissatisfied with where I left this, just being honest.
Word Count: 1777
A/N: Hello! This is a series I’m going to start, and don’t worry, I already have the entire thing planned out. No, that doesn’t mean that I know how many chapters the full thing will have. Either five or six probably. Unless I really draw stuff out. We shall see. But I just... I really like where this ended?? Like it just seems natural to stop it here... But there’s almost no romancing yet. Soz
Your hands trembled as you clung to the script you’d been given. As the packet was only a few pages, you switched hands often, wiping your free hand on your trousers, trying not to destroy the papers you knew you’d have to return once you’d said your lines. You took a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time you’d auditioned for anything; you could do this.
“Y/N, your acting partner is going to be Tom Holland. You’re in the same year; maybe you know each other?”
“Yeah, of course,” you said, nodding to the acting director and your longtime friend, Alice.
Great. Sure, you’d met Tom, and he was nice, and you were a fine actor, but come on. This was the guy that had gone to the BRIT School, the guy who starred in Billy Elliot, the guy from The Impossible that was nearly nominated for an Academy Award. Swallowing the lump that had started forming in your throat, you made your way over to him. You stuck your hand out to him in greeting, and he took it.
“Would you like to go over these, or do you wanna just wing it?” you asked, skipping the greeting.
“We can read through them once, I guess,” he responded with a smile.
After exchanging some weird lines about a crazy mother and some casserole, you sat silently next to each other. He was busily texting someone you couldn’t care less about, and you’d pulled out your maths homework that was due at the end of the week. Until your names were called, not a single word was exchanged. He seemed like a decent acting partner, you had to admit.
“Tom Holland, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), center stage please!”
You set your work down mid-derivative and wiped your hands on your trousers again before grabbing your script and following Tom onstage. No matter how many times you performed, auditions always made you nervous. You could never put your finger on why. After flashing a smile to Alice, you began reading your lines.
Although neither of you had put much effort into the initial read-through, the performance on stage was electric, the two characters so alive that Alice was applauding you both before Tom finished the final like. “Bravo,” she said after you bowed together, “as if I am surprised.”
“Oh, please, Alice,” you and Tom said at the same time, causing you both to laugh very awkwardly.
“You’re both free to go. Get out of here.” Alice shooed you both offstage with a smile.
You gathered up your homework and put it back into your bag. As you slid the straps onto your shoulders, you noticed that Tom had waited for you. You raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You shrugged back at him, and, together, you made your way out of the community theater. On the way to Tom’s car, you made light conversation, and you decided that acting with him wasn’t going to be so bad. You were afraid that he’d be stuck up about acting, being a former Billy and all, but he was actually incredibly down to earth. After dropping him off at his car, you walked home, as you lived close enough to the community theater to enjoy the late-October afternoon.
The next evening, Alice called you to tell you that you’d been casted as the lead opposite Tom.
-
You and Tom gave each other so much shit during rehearsals, as you were very fast to warm up to each other. After all, you were on stage together the majority of every rehearsal, as the pair of you had nearly two thousand lines to memorize put together. It was a competition to see who could go off book first (Tom) and who could get a scene perfect with no reprimands from Alice first (you). About a week after Tom went off book (you were a fucking day too late—there was just that one scene that you couldn’t stop jumbling the words), you earned the “(Y/N), that was wonderful! Deliver your lines like that every time from now on!” while Tom received a “Now, sweetheart, I told you not to…” You couldn’t keep the smug grin off your face, even when you were walking him out to his car later.
“So, like, can we hang out now?” he asked you out of the blue.
“What?”
“Are we friends? Have we had enough group interaction that we can hang out?”
You were completely taken aback by his question. “Why, yeah, I’d say so.”
He smiled widely at you. “Great! When d’you wanna hang out then?”
Shrugging, you said, “Well, I was gonna bake cookies tonight for a friend, and you can come help me if you want.”
“I would love to!” His smile only grew brighter.
After that, you spent many evenings after practice at the other’s homes, growing ever closer.
-
One evening, it was very snowy, and you’d already planned on staying over at Tom’s. He’d invited you for a movie night, and there had been some sort of unspoken agreement that you were invited to stay over afterwards. Snuggled up in all the extra blankets Tom had found around the house, you watched a few of your personal favorites as well as a few of Tom’s. Before either of you knew it, it was nearly three in the morning, and you were passing yawns back and forth like it was a game of catch.
“I guess it’s about time for bed, aye?” Tom covered his mouth with both hands to stifle another yawn.
Stretching, you replied, “Yeah, guess so.”
“So practice is at ten tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I was gonna set an alarm for nine.” You reached for your phone and clicked the home button, only for nothing to show up. “Oh fuck, it’s died.”
Tom hopped up. “Not to worry; I’m sure we have extra chargers around here somewhere.”
You rifled through your bag, cursing yourself for forgetting one of the most important things to pack for an overnight stay. For goodness’ sake, you’d remembered your own toothpaste, but you’d forgotten your fucking charger next to your bed. Nice going, (Y/N). Giving up, you flopped back down on the couch, listening to Tom shuffle around his room, muttering expletives just loud enough for you to hear. He came back eventually, his mouth contorted in a yikes face.
“Sam, that little fucker, took my extra one I had. I know it was him because he’s the only one who knows where I hid it. And he and Harry are off at their mate’s for the night, so I have no idea where any extras are.”
You rose to pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, really.”
“Well, sure, but we both have to be up early. I dunno about you, but I’m not a morning person, so I’m not great at waking people up or being woken up.”
Chuckling, you said, “Yeah, I’m the same way.”
“We could both use my phone? And sleep in here?” He shrugged, telling you he didn’t mind.
“I mean, we could… But there’s one couch.”
“No big deal! I’ll take the floor.”
He grabbed a little more than half the blankets and threw them on the floor before cocooning up in them. Frowning a little, you laid down on the couch and snuggled up in the blankets, watching Tom get comfortable. He got up after a bit, coming back with—you div—his charger. Before he could lie back down, you peeped up.
“Hey, uh, Tom.” Your voice came out much smaller than usual.
“What’s up?”
“The couch is pretty damn big, y’know.”
Tom’s short laugh seemed loud in comparison to your whispers. “So?”
“Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable…sleeping on the couch?”
“You mean, with you?”
You felt your face get hot incredibly fast. “Y-yeah. Y’know, it’s just a suggestion.”
“You don’t think that’d be weird?”
“Not if you don’t make it weird, you weirdo.”
Tom laughed again, but it was much closer this time. Gently, he laid down on top of you, then sandwiched himself between you and the couch. You both wriggled around until the blankets were nice and comfortable. Nice and warm, you snuggled into the blankets and—as you were very suddenly aware—into Tom. You held your breath, but he didn’t say anything about the fact that you two were basically spooning each other, so you kept your mouth shut as well.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Tom whispered awkwardly. “Is this okay?”
He very slowly, very carefully, laid his arm across your body, which you were sure was much more comfortable for him given the way you were lying. Trying to steady your heart rate, you assured him that it was fine. You focused more on keeping your breathing steady than actually trying to go to sleep, and you felt very tired when the alarm went off. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were nearly positive that you hadn’t gotten much at all.
After that night, however, sleepovers were common. He stayed over at yours more often that you stayed at his because you lived in an apartment with a single roommate and he lived with his whole family. The first night he stayed over, though, you made it clear that sleeping over couldn’t be at all awkward ever. Then, neither of you had a problem snuggling up to the other in your bed.
-
One night—you really couldn’t remember when it was, Tom had come over after a rehearsal just to hang out with you and your roommate. The plan had been to work on a puzzle, but your roommate came back from work very frustrated, so it just turned into a night of chatting among the three of you. Hours upon hours passed, and you lost track of how many cups of tea you made. Before long, you were cuddled up to Tom (mostly because he was warm), and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You fell asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat. When he noticed you were sleeping, he bid your roommate goodnight and carried you off to your room.
“He’s a good one, that Holland,” your roommate told you the next morning after he’d left. “Don’t let that one go if you can help it.”
You brushed the comment off. “Oh, please, it’s not like that. He’s cute, but we’re friends.”
“Well, the blush on your face says otherwise.”
You didn’t know it then, but, when you looked back, you always pinned that night as the night you fell in love with him. Even though your brain hadn’t known it then, your heart was sure.
#my shit#is that my writing tag?? lmao it's been so long#anyways here's this#i have no idea when part two will come out#after i write my research paper LMAO#anyways goodnight
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